#i dont know if this is just a temporary mood or maybe im turning over a new leaf. new optimistic mindset about art

[fruitsyrups]

ive crossed over into an alternate dimension where side profiles are somehow sometimes easier to draw than other angles. bodies in side profile however... nooo thank you...

[thinger-strang]

the thoughts i keep to myself (are apparently the ones i should share)

happy pride everyone i figured id write a little blurb about having demi-romantic feelings and trying to navigate them! side note; i know there is a canon way that billys room is laid out but im ignoring that bc i dont care

this takes place a year or two after starcourt so billy is fully healed and him and steve have been friends for a long time

Billy's laying in the space between his bed and the wall, the only space in his room–other than the literal fucking closet–that keeps him hidden from the doorway.

He's locked in his room anyways.

Laying, just thinking, listening to the record he's got playing through his headphones. Just thinking. Trying to not drown.

Thinks about the way Steve smiles. Avoids that sinking feeling in his gut when he thinks about Steve for too long.

It snuck up on him, the sinking feeling, the feeling of dread when he thinks he might love someone. Dread because everyone talks about how great love feels and how exciting it is when it's just scary to Billy. Scary in a way that's very different from shadow monsters and Neil's bad moods.

Scary in a way that's not enough. Scary in a way that makes Billy feel awful and guilty for daring to feel love, deep good romantic love for someone.

Side A stops playing, has finished, and Billy holds his breath to listen for six seconds before sitting up to flip the record again, one eye on the door.

It's Steve's record. Billy doesn't even like Journey, just listens to it to feel closer to Steve.

Steve.

Fuck.

Billy takes a big deep breath and wills his eyes to dry. It doesn't work. Tears leak into his ears.

Figuring it out was the worst part. Because before he figured out what that mystery feeling was, Steve was just his friend–best friend.

It starts with trusting Steve and telling him too much. That melts into wanting to spend all his time with Steve, wanting to soak up his laugh and memorize his face. That leads to Steve being on his mind all the time.

This part isn't too bad, it's the part after, where Billy realizes and ruins their friendship that sucks.

Once it dawns on Billy that these are probably maybe potentially romantic feelings, suddenly all his thoughts are if Steve asked me to, I would kiss him

and

if Steve were to reach for my hand, I would hold his hand

and

I want to hold him to my chest when he can't sleep, is that bad?

and

I wonder if he thinks about me like I think about him?

But it comes and goes, these feelings, it's like light background noise one day, then waves crashing around his ears the next

And he still can't tell if what he's feeling is love

Billy presses his palms into his eyes as he remembers Steve's face when he tells him, (because he's an idiot who thought telling Steve about this stupid messed up jumble of feelings was smart)

Remembers the wide eyes when Billy said "I don't really know, I kinda can't tell"

Remembers the twitchy fingers when Billy says "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything"

Remembers the confused looks when Billy says "I think I love you"

But worst of all is Billy doesn't remember the look on Steve's face when he walks away from the conversation, embarrassed that he said anything and didn't look back.

Billy hates this feeling of being wrong and overwhelmed by feelings that everyone else craves.

Hates that he knows he's going to be alone for the rest of his life, that everyone around him will find real love, not this weird messed up fake love he feels, real love and leave him behind

He'll get used to it

There's a tapping on his window, soft and light, almost not there, and if it weren't for the fucking nerd herd making him learn morse code, he wouldn't have even noticed

Billy reaches up to turn off his turntable. Holds his breath and waits six seconds before sitting up and taking his headphones off and shuffles to his window.

Steve.

Steve's face is tucked into the corner of the window, all red and grinning.

Billy opens the window.

"What are you doing here?" he hisses.

"You ran away, we weren't done talking." Steve's voice is serious and Billy feels that sinking feeling in his gut again.

"Yes we were."

"No we weren't, can you come out here, I'll help you down?"

Billy rolls his eyes but swings a leg out the window anyways. Reaches back to pull his window mostly closed once hes on the ground.

Maybe they can still be friends. He'd be okay with that.

"Tell me more."

"About what?" Billy scrunches up his nose.

"About how you feel, I want to hear it again." Steve blushes and starts messing with his fingers.

"Are you fucking serious, is this some like ego thing? You're an asshole, you–"

"No I just want to figure it out, what's going on up there." Steve taps Billy's forehead and Billy slaps his hands away.

But tells him everything, much angrier, much faster, but it's everything.

Steve smiles that big smile Billy can't atop thinking about.

"So if I ask you out, like ask to start a romantic relationship with you, would you say yes?"

Billy just blinks.

"This isn't like a pity thing or like a gentle let-down, I've had pretty serious feelings for you for a while, I never asked because I didn't think you felt the same way but–"

"This can't be a temporary thing." Billy interrupts, finally recovering from the bomb Steve just dropped on him. "I can't do this we date for a while then break up thing, I love you, Steve. This is it for me but if this isn't it for you, that's fine, I just need to know now."

Steve reaches out and wiggles his fingers, knuckles bumping Billy's. Billy blushes but laces their hands together. Steve tugs him forward and rests his forehead onto Billy's.

Billy could cry, he didn't realize what he was missing.

"Dis you listen at all? I said 'serious feelings'. I know it didn't say....I didn't say what you said but I'm, Billy, I wanna like, do dishes with you and go grocery shopping with you and argue over who gets to play music when we drive places and pick out furniture and paint colors. I'm there, this is it for me too."

Thunder rumbles in the distance and Billy wants to live in this moment forever.

"Do you need to go back in or can I take you to get a milkshake from Benny's?" Steve whispers, thumb tracing small circles while the other hand traces Billy's fingers.

"Take me away, we can check off the 'arguing over music' on the way there."

Steve smiles and tugs Billy around the house.

okay so this is just my own personal shit about being demi-romantic, i absolutely do not speak for all demi-romantics, i just wanted to get this out there and maybe deal with some feeling im having too

[firstknightss]

GWAINCELOT ESSAY THREE???

[commentary voice] ah yes and this gwaincelot essay.... which turned into a fic was inspired by @nextstopparis and @little-ligi

GWAINE TEACHING LANCELOT HOW TO READ. and thats how they actually CONFESS.

imagine gwaine seeing lancelot trip up reading leon’s plan for the day, seeing him trying to understand it. and gwaines, hes a little in love. Hes. Hes a little hit with feelings for this Noble (tm) knight. So OF COURSE he CANT EMOTION and he tries to show his affection for lancelot without yknow being in ‘loVE’

he comes over with his swishy hair and bantery tone like “oooOhHh LANCELOT! Lancey! Hey! Hello! Can’t read leon’s goddamn awful handwriting huh?”

And Lancelots embarrassed and flushes red and gwaine thinks hes Fucked Up (and he really doesn’t want to fuck this up, this is the first time he’s actually felt emotions this deep for someone) and tries to fix it panickedly, like the Anxiety Clown He Is.

He keeps on saying sorry and apologising, and Lancelot, the EVER CALM KNIGHT GUY, goes “it’s fine, it’s okay. It’s nothing to do with you...” and then he hesitates. He HESITATES. “....it’s just that...” and then he BITES HIS LIP and gwaine thinks he might just faint there and then, “...i cant read.”

and now it hits him, gwaine, gwaine, who thought literacy was something trash and something he didn’t really need, realises how important it is. and so, yknow because hes kind of wrapped in those Emotions (tm), he pulls lancelot’s sleeve after practice, when they’re alone in the changing room. (and if lancelot wasn’t so tired and miserable, he would have easily seen gwaine BLUSH)

And he, shyly asks if lancelot wouldnt mind being tutored by him.

Now Lancelot is OVERJOYED, and he’s borderline CRYING because lancelot, poor old village boy lancelot who’d been kicked out of the knights of camelot, and had to become a MERCENARY and fight for masters who didn’t care for him, has NEVER HAD someone literally CARE about him so much. (Apart from Merlin. He loves merlin <3)

so now imagine lancelot waking up an hour early the next morning, and showing up into gwaine’s room. He knows gwaine literally doesnt sleep with a lock, so he just barges in, and starts shaking gwaine.

Now GWAINE sleeps like a Log (had so much shit going on irl, time to sleep it away) and when he opens his bleary eyes, seeing lancelot in one of his stupid v neck shirts over him, hes like “....h...helo??”

and lancelot’s all like. “We- werent YOU gonna give me reading lessons.” And gwaine nods, yawning (and in that moment lancelot thinks gwaine looks unimaginably cute, so cute that he wants to literally ruffle gwaine’s hair and run his hands through how silky and brown it is.)

THEN gwaine pulls on the dont care-ish mask, and makes his arms into a pillow under his head, as he leans against the wall behind his bed, in some kind of somewhat???flirty??? manner??? [i dont...i dont know what hes trying to do. On the other hand! Not does Lancelot :) ]

Lancelot, does not realise this is gwaine’s poor attempt at flirting - since he’s seen gwaine ACTUALLY flirting and this is like. Nothing. And its also poorly executed. Which is NOTHING like gwaine.

So he pulls gwaine’s arm, and half hauls him out of bed.

As gwaine’s head crashes into lancelot’s stomach, he can smell lancelot’s clothes. They smell of flowers, and cotton and everything so natural and gwaine, who literally smells of wine, and wood and Tavern. (And aftershave, or the 500AD equivalent)

[see here, see im trying to bring themes of dionysis okay. OkayyyyyyyyY. yours truly likes looking at greek mythology. And both these two complete dionysis]

Gwaine, in his sleepy stupor, nestles his head on Lancelot’s hip, who gives a sigh and stands there. One hand clutching gwaine’s, leaving the other free.....

....to rake through his soft, flowy brown hair. And twirl his fingers through its waves, and Gwaine cuddles in further.

And since Lancelot left the door open, Leon (the other bitch who wakes up at 4am to do idk nothing) sees them two...like that, illuminated by the SUNLIGHT behind them, and smiles a little.

And then he trips over the stairs, the moment is lost.

Gwaine and Lancelot pull away at the same time, and gwaine’s face turns back to “ha ha im a Jerk (tm)” and if he wasnt too busy trying to hide how flustered he was, he’d see Lancelot looking at him the way he used to look at GWEN.

They both blink and look at each other, understandingly, neither of them to speak of this again.

And then Gwaine drags himself out of bed, and Lancelot raises his eyebrows as he watches him (totally not checking him out) haul out a book from his cupboard.

Gwaine’s too sleepy for this, he keeps yawning and rubbing his eyes (looking like a cat, Lancelot notes) and Lancelot takes a deep breath, his eyes understanding.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“Lancelot, I love..” he bites his tongue, cursing his half asleep mind “..doing this, and love hanging out with you...I just cant stay up this early.”

Reading lessons, from now on, are at 1:30am-whenever Gwaine and Lancelot stop rambling about Odysseus and Circe and Telemachus

[i dont know any other ancient books apart from like. Ancient greek/Roman ones. So i guess. Its not historically accurate,,,,BUUIT this is a fanfic for a pair who had like no scenes together SO i think i can take some ✨creative liberties✨]

Lancelot has heard of the journey of Aneas from travelling bards, singing songs in his native old english. Gwaine’s eyes are quick at latin, and he learnt the flaws of Romulus and Remus in his pure latin. Gwaine’s a good teacher, and lancelot is a quick study, and it’s not long before they’re arguing over which Goddess caused the most harm in the Illiad.

Gwaine’s never met someone who he could reveal that he loved reading to, he loved doing.

Lancelot’s never met someone who he could tell he couldn’t read, and ask if they could teach him, love learning.

They make it work.

The other knights notice, of course they notice. Percival notices how Lancelot stumbles into the Gwaine’s room at night, bright eyed. Elyan notices Lancelot and Gwaine’s voices from Gwaine’s room opposite him; sometimes slow, Gwaine speaking slowly and Lancelot following; sometimes heated and passionate.

(They’re arguing. They’re arguing about how to pronounce Minerva)

Merlin finds the two, in the early hours of the morning - when the birds are figuring what song they sing today - on Gwaine’s bed.

Gwaine leaned against the bedframe, his trousered legs splayed over the sheets. Loosely braided, long brown hair fell over his closed eyelids, his mouth in a small smile.

And Merlin follows his arm draped over Lancelot, snuggled beside him, his head on his broad shoulder, every breath of wind pushing against curly black hair, making it almost /bounce/. His eyes are covered by the other man’s hair, and he looks...content. More content than Merlin has ever seen him.

He slips out as quietly as he came in, and smirks, hes gotta tell arthur they finally got their shit together oh GOD

Its no surprise to anyone but them, when Arthur pulls Lancelot out of training, and into his chambers.

“I’m glad you’ve found someone Lancelot.” He starts, his face geniune, his voice giving away hints of relief. (He thought he was never going to see his knight smile again after all the ordeals that had happened to him)

“Oh...” Lancelot’s heart sinks, “...how did you find out, Sire?”

Arthur blinks, taking in the change of mood in Lancelot, maybe it wasn’t anything important, maybe they were trying to keep it casual, hell they didnt want the king knowing.

“I- uh, I just noticed...” Goddamnit Merlin, and Goddamn his need to tell him everything he saw. (Merlin had advised him not to do this, as they sat on his bed after a long night. This was really his fault.)

Lancelot pales, and he places his hands down on the table beside him, palms slapping stone as he did so.

“Well, I guess I should tell you the whole truth then,” his voice is quiet, and Arthur steps closer, “Sire I am not of Noble birth, and was born in a village - as you know.”

Arthur nods, his arms crossed, but his Kingly Bravado fell away at the sight of his knight, and one of his closest friends, being this vulnerable.

“Yes I know, but what does this ha-“

“And we children in the village we-“ he falters, “-we were never taught to read.”

“Yes, no I understand, I-“ he pauses, Lancelot’s words hitting him a bit too late, this was about literacy?

This, this whole conversation was about literacy?

Not being gay?

Merlin was going to have a field day

“Sire?”

“I understand Lancelot, and is this why you feel a little out of place with the other knights?” He carries it on, with a smile, he has a few questions to ask merlin.

“Yes, and that’s why I asked Gwaine to tutor me from time to time, although, the sessions carry through late into the night, which may have been affecting my performance at practice. I’ll have you know that this is a temporary th-“

“It’s fine Lancelot,” Arthur places a hand on his shoulder, “You are still exceptional at practice,”

“Thank you Sire,” Lancelot twinkles.

✨

“Theyre, theyre not together?” Merlin cant stop laughing, tears streaming down his face, “theyre not TOGETHER?? oh my God arthur what did you DO”

They sit together on Arthur’s bed, drinking wine from stemless cups together, with Arthur recounting the events of the day; red faced.

“I mean, it was your idea Merlin.”

“I just saw them, and I assumed...I didnt...I didnt think youd ASK them.”

“What do you think I’d do then?? Let them be on their merry way.”

“Yes!”

✨

“Do you like me?” Gwaine asks, unexpectedly, one night, the moon vibrant against the loud sea.

“You’re...tolerable...” Lancelot says, a smile tugging at his lips, as the silver moonlight falls against his hair, a halo around him.

✨

The knights give them the look every morning, as the two of them stumbled out of the same room, more frequently than ever.

Sometimes Lancelot would throw on Gwaine’s shirt, when he’d crumpled his own beyond repair. Sometimes Gwaine would put some of Lancelot’s hair oil on, when his hair was frizzy.

They gave each other knowing looks when Gwaine and Lancelot started whispering and giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls.

✨

And then Stupid gwaine had to go get fucking stabbed, and their delicate dance was like trying to waltz through a minefield.

Lancelot clutches onto Gwaine’s arm as Merlin feels his forehead with shaking hands.

“He’s burning up.”

“Infection...?” Lancelot sounds broken, and nods, fumbling with his pack to find some bandages.

It was just a simple quest; a save the day, get the girl, do various harmless shenanigans type of quest.

He’d half expected Gwaine to get the girl, and he cant help but give out a half choked laugh. Gwaine had no idea what hit him when she turned out to be the evil one all along.

He tries to forget that Gwaine showed no interest in her, he tries to forget that Gwaine’s been less frequent at the Tavern, he tries to forget that he hasn’t seen Gwaine with anyone since months now.

Gwaine, his beautiful Gwaine was lying on his lap, hot red blood rushing from his side, staining his polished chainmail with dark, sticky blood.

He’s been out for nearly an hour now, and Lancelot remembers carrying him, through the entire forest, forgetting his sword and his helmet and just grabbing Gwaine and getting the shit out of there.

Gwaine’s lack of self preservation was really rubbing off on Lancelot nowadays.

Merlin watches as Lancelot holds back tears, his own eyes stinging. Gwaine can’t die like this, he can’t die like this....

“hælan beorn adl”

Merlin’s eyes flashed gold, and Lancelot could feel warmth coming back into the fingers he was grabbing.

He was coming back.

And then the weight of everything hits him.

He was in Fucking Love.

✨

“Hey.” Gwaine’s voice is rough from disuse, but Lancelot nearly sobs when he hears the voice.

“Don’t fucking do that to me again, amor meus.” He puts his head down on Gwaine’s chest; finding the hammering of his heart calming.

He shimmies onto Merlin’s bed, which Gwaine had been lying in for the past few days.

“Did you mean, ami meus?” Gwaine sounds tired, too tired to be awake.

“Huh? Did i say something else?” Lancelot decides to play dumb, a sparkle in his eyes,

“I thought I heard amor meus,” Gwaine pushes his nose into Lancelot’s hair, taking in the wonderful smell of coconut.

“Well then, at least your hearing’s okay, amor meus.”

Gwaine gulped, and was sure Lancelot could hear his loud swallow.

“Lancelot, I hope this isnt a big joke with me teachin you latin and all,” Gwaine’s voice is a little wobbly from the slee deprivation and the magic and the pain numbers, “because I’ll have you know that I really love you, and I cant go on like this any longer,”

“Its okay Gwaine, I learnt latin from the man I love, of course it’s not a joke.”

“The man you love? Who’s tha-“

Realisation hits him like a brick.

Oh.

Oh.

“Me?” His voice cracks, and Lancelot looks up, a smirk on his face.

“Of course dumbass.”

“Like I’m meant to know that,” Gwaine tries to keep his dont care-ish aura, but they both know he’s too exhausted to keep that up.

“mmm?”

Gwaine kisses him on the nose, and he wraps himself around him.

And thats how Merlin finds them later that day, eyes blinking as he stood there.

✨

“I’m glad you’ve found someone, Lancelot.” Arthur coughs.

“Is that what that whole talk was about???”

“Answer the question.” His words sound harsh, but he’s barely hiding a smile.

“I’m glad too, I’m Glad I found Gwaine too.” Lancelot blushes, turning to gwaine.

“Why are you asking anyway, Princess?”

“Oh just, making sure this time.”

[noritoshiikamo]

I know your blog is jjk dedicated but haikyuu thirst or fluff .. doesn't hurt? Does it?

I recently a few seasons of haikyuu and the moment i laid my eyes on the tall blondie *Tsukishima kei * i tell you all i can think about is him and what would he feel like being around. Idk if you are into him or not but i am head over heels for this guy and even though it's been not so long i simp. What i meant was like when he is mean or say salty my nosebleeds heart speeds up and i am wet💦😏. I am so into him being mean i even imagine what it would be like when he would be mean to me idk why. Uhmmm him and i we would make a good pair like a good angsty hot but a happy ending kinda story. I am grumpy though but not that often ( lying most of the times but still) he is a virgo and a perfect romantic the best match for anything and everything for pisces *me*. I mean damn how hot can a man be. And its like i am not even into blondies then this happened. Though i am 5'3 bit too short for him😪 idk if he would be into me or not. I am a massive nerd and he is like the popular hot athletic kid. He is perfect years older than me amd what not. 😪😪🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️ i am talking about things which cannot happen i can't find 2d men perfection in 3d men or even teleport myself in the manga ..never happening i am so dumb even thinking about the possibility. But i wish, life is so hard already i want to be happy too but i have nothing other than these kind of magical escapes to keep me going. They aren't real but do give me happiness and hope even though temporary that things might take a good turn for me too someday and that it will be fine someday.

Idk why and what shit i am blabbing here sorry i just ...so sorry. love you and your blog really you are amazing 💟💟

pls i love love letters hdjdjdjdj dont feel bad abt spamming (drop some if u have any thirsts im willing to indulge)

you sound so perfect for tsuki and here i am, completely knowing that i would cry if im ever put in the same room as kei. would i date someone like tsuki?? no but would i let him tap this ass for one night stand??? probably??? him being mean is such a turn off but i have anxiety, a slight change of his mood would throw me off fjxmksmd i see myself more of into dating a guy like akaashi, loud guys like bokuto drains me, i also would like to think i would bag a guy like kuroo, but maybe in my dreams.

hdjcncjcj i getchu bb, im always lost in the idea of daydreaming of what life would be for me if i ever dated 2d men, despite dating a 3d man for almost few years now. its just something about 2d men giving me such a huge boost of serotonin, thats why i enjoy writing so much.

[emybain]

Almost

im a sucker for the au where nova’s family lives,,,so here’s another fic that I wrote with no shame. I definitely plan on writing more fics where she’s younger, and I might have to make a masterpost for this au (I also need to update my current masterpost of all my fics bc,,,yikes I haven't updated that in forever.) anyway, here’s a little drabble where adrian’s family comes over for dinner and the two families haven't seen one another in FOREVER and nova hasn't talked to Adrian in a couple months soooo :)) I may have gotten a little angsty but that's not my problem. also yes I definitely played into the stereotypical teenage romance trope and I dont care

.     “I’m home,” Nova called out as she closed the front door behind her. The smell of onions and ginger hung in the air. Nova checked the time on the clock in the living room, setting her bag down beside Papà’s favorite armchair. It was only late afternoon, so she wasn’t hallucinating; her mom was making dinner early. Nova’s family tended to eat much later than the average family, usually in the late evening. According to Papà, that’s how he grew up, so it’s how Nova and her siblings would grow up. Maybe her mom was just cooking now so she wouldn’t have to later; she had done that a few times in the past. Nova shrugged it off. 

    From the kitchen, her mom called out to her in Tagalog, her first language. Another thing that made Nova frown; she rarely spoke in her first language unless it was for a specific reason. After all, English was the only language all five of the Artinos had in common. Nevertheless, Nova answered back in Tagalog to appease her mother, telling her how her day went. When her mom asked about her therapist appointment, though, Nova switched back to English so that her dad, who was probably in the kitchen as well, could understand. 

“Dr. Sterling says hi and that she-”

    Nova had just plopped her car keys down on a side table in the kitchen when she noticed that they had guests over. She faltered, biting back her usual report she would give to her parents following her therapist appointment. So that’s why Mom was speaking in her first language. 

    “No one told me we were having people over tonight.” Nova raised an awkward hand toward the Everhart-Westwood trio, not quite sure if she were speaking to her parents or their guests. Smoothing down her oversized tee shirt, Nova ignored the way her cheeks lit up at her appearance. An old shirt of her dad’s, workout shorts she had been in since her run that morning, and torn up tennis shoes with holes beginning to peak out in the toes. “I would’ve dressed nicer.”

    Hugh was the first to break the awkward silence, chuckling and beckoning Nova forward. She gave him and Simon a one-armed hug. 

    “It was sort of last minute,” Simon explained, looking Nova up and down. “After all, it’s been so long since we’ve all gotten together.” A smile lit up his face. “While I can’t say you’ve grown, you’ve definitely changed, Nova. Every time we see you, you look more and more like your mother.” He was right; it had been a while since the two families had spent time together. Nova hadn’t seen Adrian’s dads in months other than the occasional wave from across a room at headquarters. When she was younger, it seemed as if the two families had more time for one another. It was odd, when she considered it, how close her family was to the Everhart-Westwoods, all because of a series of events that occurred when Nova was no older than six. Her father had gone to the Renegades for protection from Nova’s uncle, and they promised to protect him and his family. After a failed attempt by Nova’s uncle to kill her entire family, they were sent to a temporary home where they would be much safer. Then after Ace Anarchy was defeated, Nova’s father went to work for the Renegades with a vision of making the world a better place. Now, he sat comfortably as head of the weapons department, something Nova knew he wasn’t necessarily proud of, but it brought in a decent amount of money for his family. And besides, the weapons were currently being used for good. At least, that was what her dad said to reassure himself and his family. 

    “Too bad I also got her height,” Nova retorted.

    “Nak, you’re perfect just the way you are,” Mom chided from the stove where she was stirring a pot of what looked like a soup or stew. Nova rolled her eyes, used to her mother lecturing her on her negative view of her appearance. 

    She turned to Adrian to hug him next, as it was expected, despite the sudden skip in her chest. It had been a few months since she had seen much of him or talked to him, both of them being held down by responsibilities and Renegade duties. Ever since they got their own teams a couple years ago, she had noticed how they began drifting apart. It was upsetting because they had been so close when they were young, but what could they do about it? Nova barely had enough time these days for her studies, something her parents were strict on her having. She supposed it was a good thing, seeing as she had developed confusing and distracting feelings for her childhood friend that went beyond friendship. And as her mom liked to say, people would enter and leave her life when she needed them, that they were there or not there for a reason. 

    It was hard not to breathe in or let her eyes fall shot when Nova wrapped both of her arms around Adrian’s shoulders, lifting up on the tips of her toes. She tried not to shiver as he bent down to meet her, arms encircling her waist. Then it was over too soon, and Nova hopped up on the kitchen counter beside where he stood. 

    “Get down from there,” Nova’s dad passed by her with a handful of bowls, swatting at her lightly once he set them down. Sharing a look with Adrian, who bit his lip to hold back his smile, she slid back down. 

    “So, what’s for dinner?” Nova leaned against the counter. 

    Papà opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Nova’s siblings came running through the kitchen, Thomas chasing after Evie with a red face and tears running down his cheeks. 

    “Give it back!” Thomas screeched. He managed to wrap a fist around Evie’s shirt before she ripped it from his grasp, dancing away. “Papà, tell Evie to give my action figure back!”

    Nova saw her father’s face age about ten years as he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. “Evie, give your brother his toy back, please.”

    “He wouldn’t leave me alone!” Evie stuck her tongue out at Thomas. “He kept opening my door and running away laughing, so now his stupid toy is mine.” 

    Nova shifted toward Adrian, who leaned down to listen as she mumbled, “She just got herself into huge trouble, watch.”

    Papà narrowed his eyes at Evie. “Evie Grace Artino, what have we said about closed doors in this house?” 

    Nova elbowed Adrian softly. 

    Evie faltered, her hand that was held over her head to keep the toy away from Thomas falling. “Did I say my bedroom door? I..I-I um...I meant-”

    “Give the toy back, and I’ll consider lightening your punishment for breaking the rules.”

    Evie groaned loudly and shoved the toy at Thomas, whose skin and hair, Nova noticed, was a soft shade of red. At this point, Nova was used to her brother’s recent discovery that he was a prodigy like her. It wasn’t much, seemingly, because he only changed colors depending on his mood. But Nova had a feeling that there was much more to it, and that he would learn more about himself in the coming years. 

    “It’s not fair! Nova’s allowed to have her door shut!” 

    Nova began to speak, retorting that she had earned that right, but Mom beat her to it.

    “Nova is five years older than you, Evie.” She brought the stirring pot over to the island where she set it on a hot pad. “And much more mature. She’s a leader in the Renegades and has nearly perfect grades in her studies and she does her chores and work without being asked. She’s earned that right, and you will too, once we see you trying in school and emptying the dishwasher on time and not after we’ve asked ten times.”

    “Explains why you’re always grounded every other week,” Evie grumbled, shoving past Nova. 

    “Anyway,” Mom took her apron off. “Dinner’s ready. And to answer your question, Nova, it’s Sinigang.”

    Nova smiled. Her favorite. 

______

    “No boys in bedrooms!” Mom called up the stairs as Nova led Adrian up. 

    “Oh darn, there goes my plan to seduce my best friend.” She shrugged at Adrian. “Sorry, maybe next time.” She pretended not to notice how he averted her gaze, cheeks red. 

    “I mean it, Nova Jean!” 

    “We’re just going to watch a movie or something, calm down!” 

    Even as she said it, she led Adrian to the back of the upstairs where her bedroom was. 

    “Didn’t your mom just say-”

    Nova reached for his hand, pulling him inside. “We’re not going to be in my room.” She nodded to her window. “The roof?”

    A smile crept onto Adrian’s face, understanding filling his eyes. He let Nova pull him to the window. She lifted it up and stepped out onto the sill, then pushed herself up onto the roof, an easy feat as the roof was slanted right beside her bedroom window. When they were little, she and Adrian would climb up there and talk for hours until Papà would have to go out in the backyard and yell up at them to come down because it was time for Adrian to go home. 

    The wind picked up slightly, and Nova peered back over her shoulder. “Grab a blanket from my bed.”

    She crawled to the center, their spot, and waited for Adrian. When he poked his head up, she grinned and caught the blanket thrown at her. She wrapped it around herself as he joined her. 

    “How’s your team doing?” She scooted closer to him, telling herself it was because she was cold and he radiated heat. “I saw Ruby the other day in the training hall. We ran a few laps together before she had to go.”

    “Good, I suppose.” He rested back on his elbows. “Danna misses you, by the way. She won’t shut up about how you two need to grab coffee or breakfast.”

    Nova chuckled. “I know! We’ve been texting, but our schedules just haven’t lined up in a while. I haven’t been able to relax much the past few months with this new schedule I’m on.” She let out a sigh, resting her chin on her knees. “Especially since I-” she stopped herself, shoulders tensing up. Adrian didn’t know about her therapist. In fact, no one knew that she had started going to therapy, not even Adèle or Ramona or Benton, some of the people she spent most of her time around. She didn’t need people thinking she was weak.

    “Since you what?” Even though she her back was to him, Nova could hear the frown in his voice. 

    “Nothing.” Nova chewed the inside of her cheek. “Forget I said anything.”

    Adrian sat up. “No, what?” When she didn’t give him an immediate answer, avoiding his piercing gaze, he nudged her gently. “Come on, Nova. We’ve been friends for almost ten years. You know you can tell me anything.”

    She picked at a hole in her leggings. “It’s not that I’m embarrassed or anything. It’s a completely normal thing people do. It’s just...not everyone would agree with me, and you know that I’m not the most liked person in Gatlon.” It wasn’t something she acknowledged often because it always left her in a sour mood; it always lingered at the bottom of her conscience, like how Evie would overstay her welcome in Nova’s room sometimes. Because of her uncle, because of what he did before his death, the Artino’s had to tread lightly in the city. Her parents, maybe not so much, since so many sympathized with them choosing to do the right thing and nearly losing their lives over it. And Evie presented no danger because she wasn’t a prodigy, and she was too young to even remember her uncle. Thomas was still a young child, despite being a prodigy, and didn’t even know how to divide numbers bigger than twenty without help. Nova, on the other hand, was kept under supervision by just about all of Gatlon. There were people who didn’t like the fact that she was a Renegade, much less a team leader for one of the best teams in the city. They didn’t like that she was friends with Adrian Everhart, son of the late Lady Indomitable and adopted son of the Dread Warden and Captain Chromium, all three being members on the Renegades Council. Rumors had been spread in the past of her true intentions with the Everhart boy, and how much she trained, and how intelligent she was. After all, she had known Ace Anarchy; he was her Uncle Alec. She had loved him and the gifts he brought her family. That was all before she knew who he truly was, of course. 

But even then, in recent years, she had been contacted by the living Anarchists, confronted by them in person sometimes. The Council didn’t know, and it was a secret Nova planned on taking to her grave, despite never acting on their kind words and suggestions to join them, that the Renegades were flawed and corrupt. She knew they only wanted her because of her bloodline. Their words were lies.

Nova couldn’t afford to make mistakes in this world with so many eyes on her. 

Adrian shifted closer, the movement almost subtle. He placed a hand on her back, and Nova tried to hide her shiver. “They can all go to Hell. No one knows you like I do, Nova. The media...the media will always find a way to twist good into bad, no matter how hard you try.” He traced a small pattern on her back. “If you don’t want to tell me, I get it, and I won’t press anymore, but you can trust me. I promise not to tell anyone.”

Nova allowed herself to sink into his touch, just a little. After a moment, she said quietly, “I started going to therapy. You know how I don’t need to sleep? How whenever I try, I’m taken back to that night?” Adrian nodded. She had told him the story years ago. “Well, I’ve been going for that, partly.” She cleared her throat. “I learned from my therapist that I have a decent amount of anxiety, and I’m pretty fucking depressed, so I’m going for that as well.”

His hand paused on her back, then shifted to take her hand. She didn’t even realize it had started shaking. “That’s good you’re seeing someone. You’ve never been good at opening up.” She had to let out a soft laugh at that. 

“Yeah.” She looked down at their joined hands, thought of how they would look better laced together. “But I mean, it’s helped a lot. She’s helping me work through the trauma and pain I deal with on a daily basis. And she’s patient, too, so if she makes a suggestion and it takes me weeks to act upon it, she’s not upset. She’s always happy to hear me try something new.”

“Like?” Adrian looked down at her. 

She hummed. “Well, at first it was little things, like making my team train during the day instead of at four in the morning.” When Adrian frowned, she continued. “I’ve always done that because I was insecure about people watching me, about what they would say. And then it kind of just became routine, so I didn’t bother changing it until she suggested I do.”

“There were a few times I remember seeing you train during the day,” Adrian said. “They weren’t often, and I always assumed it was because something changed in your schedule.”

Nova nodded. “I hated those days. Usually, I would just try to tune everyone out but myself and my team.” She bit her lip. “Now, it’s still a little weird, but I’m getting used to it every day.” A snort escaped her mouth. “And now people can stop saying I have something to hide because I train so early.” 

    “Stop worrying about what other people think.” He squeezed her hand gently, that stupid soft smile returning to his lips.

    “Gee,” Nova deadpanned, “I wish I would’ve thought of that. Thank you. I’m cured.” 

    “You know what I mean.”

    Nova tore her hand out of his, despite liking the way it felt, to push him gently. He was laughing at her now, so she pushed him again, this time a bit harder. It seemed to have no effect on him. Why was he so infuriating? Even from going months without seeing one another, even from drifting apart in recent years, he still had the audacity to be so comfortable around her while she was an awkward mess. She guessed that may also play a part in the reason why her pulse tended to quicken in his presence the past six or more months. She also guessed that was why she enjoyed her friendship with him as much as she did, and that he was debatably the closest person to her. They could always pick up right where they left off no matter how long they were apart, as if they had talked just the other day. 

    Adrian nudged her back with his arm playfully. They went back and forth like this, playing the game for another minute or so, the two of them erupting into quite giggles, before he grabbed both of her arms as they pushed against his chest. She tried to pull away, grinning widely, but her laughter died in her throat when she looked up to meet his eyes. They stared into hers with an intensity that brought color to her cheeks. Her smile faded. 

    “Nova, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now,” he breathed. Minutes ago, he had sounded so calm, so confident, and now she could hear the trembling in his voice, the uncertainty. She could’ve sworn she saw his eyelashes dip, eyes glancing at her gaping mouth. Instead of telling her, he inched his face closer to hers. 

    Inhaling sharply, Nova almost scrambled away. Was he...great skies. She remained still, though, and surprised herself by letting her eyes flutter shut, tilting in. After all, wasn’t this what she had been wanting for so long? Many nights had been spent tossing and turning in her bed, trying to make herself get at least a few minutes of sleep despite not needing it, wondering if he thought of her the way she thought of him. They weren’t kids anymore. Things had changed. 

    But they were still friends. Best friends. What if...whatever this was...would send them down a dangerous path? It could open up something new for both of them, or it could completely ruin a decade long friendship. And with her schedule, she didn’t have time for it, even though she really, really, truly wanted it. Wanted him. This was the first time they had actually hung out in months, and while they could pick up where they left off as friends, would it be the same in a relationship?

    Too many questions raced through her mind as Adrian’s lips brushed against hers, sending electricity down her spine. She had kissed Adrian before, nearly three years ago at a party where they played spin the bottle. Back then, it was an innocent kiss, an awkward and amateur exchange between two friends who had both just recently had the talk with their parents. She remembered their friends teasing them about it for months, and Nova and Adrian had mutually agreed that it held little meaning and that nothing would change in their friendship. 

    Body trembling, Nova swiveled her head to face the backyard before Adrian’s lips could press against hers and she would be lost in him. She concentrated her eyes on the old playset in the yard. 

    “Do you want to play I Spy?” From the corner of her eye, she could see Adrian blink at her, confused and deflated at her sudden rejection. She dared to peek back at him when he didn’t answer. “It was your favorite game once upon a time, right?”

    Adrian gulped, staring at her for what seemed like an eternity, before he nodded, almost as if he understood what she was trying to silently convey through her eyes. She was scared, terrified even, of a kiss and what it could mean. Their friendship was one of the only things tethering her to sanity some days, at least it seemed that way. 

Please, please, please don’t hate me. I need normal right now. 

He nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

[hysterialevi]

Abraham - A RDR2 Fanfic

Fanfic summary [NO SPOILERS]: Lyle Morgan and his eleven-year-old son have a conversation about Beatrice’s death, only for the boy to witness a second one.

Warning(s): Mild language

Author’s note: Bear with me if not everything in this story is correct. I’m not entirely sure where Arthur’s originally from (all I’ve heard is that he’s from somewhere in the north), so I just made something up lol. Also, this fic will only be one part. Anyway, hope you enjoy :)

From Lyle’s POV

A FOREST SOMEWHERE IN MONTANA

SUMMER, 1874

Strollin’ through the tall, thick grass, I led my mount around the forest at a casual pace while my son sat on top, consumed by his journal as always. It was an hour or two before midday, and right now, there was a radiant blanket o’ sunshine bathing the entire forest, painting everything with a golden tint. It was beautiful, and I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the day out here...but this feeling of annoyance just wouldn’t stop naggin’ me, and I knew exactly why.

I briefly glanced over my shoulder, peering at my son as he scribbled something down in the weathered pages of his journal.

A quick sigh escaped me.

I didn’t know who the hell Arthur got his interest in art from, or why Beatrice even bothered buying him that book, but that child just couldn’t seem to take his eyes away from it. Every time I came across the boy, he was always scratchin’ down some fantasy world of his, or creating images of a utopia I ain’t ever seen. It was pointless.

He spent more time daydreamin’ in that book than he did playing outside, or hunting, or fishing -- hell, he didn’t even know how to read -- and yet, Beatrice seemed perfectly content with it.

Or at least...she did.

Beatrice weren’t around no more. She was killed by bandits a few months ago. Robbed. Left on the side o’ the road for the crows to feed on. But Arthur didn’t know that. Sheriff told him it was a wild animal that took her. A wolf, to be exact. And he believed him.

I dragged a hand down my face, suddenly feelin’ exhausted just thinking about it.

Had I done the right thing, not tellin’ Arthur the truth about his own mother’s death, I wondered? I figured the kid didn’t need to know the morbid details, or even the entire truth, but I still felt like a piece of shit for not revealing the full story -- especially considering that them bandits who killed Beatrice...killed her ‘cause of me.

I had stolen something from them. Somethin’ valuable. And before it fell into their dirty hands, that “something” apparently belonged to a rich plantation owner who really wanted it back. Ended up gettin’ one of the bandits hanged, and left them thirsty for revenge. But they didn’t have the strength to go after the plantation owner. So, they came after me instead.

They chased me for quite a while. They chased me across the mountains, across the swamps, across the goddamned snow...until finally, they came to their senses and realized there were much better, more convenient ways of hurtin’ me. And thus, their paths diverted to my wife and son.

Those bastards managed to corner her while she was ridin’ to town to do some shopping. Found her on some secluded road between here and the nearest settlement, and ensured she would never return. That was when Arthur went lookin’ for help to find his missing mother hours later, and the sheriff assured him a wolf had gotten to Beatrice.

Christ. I really was a terrible father, weren’t I? Not only did I pay more attention to a bottle o’ whiskey than my own wife, I had also neglected Arthur for years on end, and indirectly gotten his mother killed. And the boy was only eleven.

He had spent half of his life not knowing a damned thing about where his daddy was, or even what he did, only to lose the one parent he already had before he could find out.

Lord...there had to be some way to make this up to him.

I looked back at the boy, suddenly feeling an urge to say something -- anything -- to him.

“Arthur,” I called out, catching the kid’s attention as his head perked up from behind the journal’s pages, “put that damned book away for a moment, will you?”

The boy hurriedly marked his place in the journal with a pen and shut it closed, resting the object on the saddle’s surface as he hung his head low in shame.

“...Sorry, sir.” He murmured.

I shook my head, lettin’ out a concerned breath.

“You spend far too much time in that journal. It was a mistake to buy it.”

Arthur’s eyes wandered to the trees towering around us.

“I’m sorry, dad,” he apologized timidly. “But I like drawing.”

I scoffed. “Yeah? Well, I like Poker. But I ain’t got time to play it. Too busy worryin’ about survival, and keeping the both of us fed. You can’t always do what you want, Arthur. You gotta provide. Things like drawing, gambling...they’re frivolous. We got better things to worry about.”

The child quirked a brow. “Friv-uh-less...? What’s that mean?”

“It means we don’t need to do it,” I explained. “What we do need, however, is to eat. So put that journal away and keep an eye out for deer. You was the one who suggested we come out here in the first place.”

Arthur frowned in a discouraged manner. “Yes, sir.”

I gave him a stern nod. “Good boy. Now...you said you seen a big buck out here?”

The boy pointed ahead. “Yeah. It was by the river.”

I gave the reins a little tug, urging my horse to follow me. “Then that’s where we’ll start. C’mon, Boadicea.”

Continuing our little hunting trip, Arthur and I traveled deeper into the lively woods as creatures of all types scurried around us, rustling blades of grass and alerting the tiny insects that hovered above the plants.

There was a rather peaceful mood to the forest today -- a welcome change considerin’ how chaotic my life usually was -- and I had to admit: some part of me enjoyed being here with Arthur. I rarely ever got to see the boy because of my work as an outlaw, and when I did, he always seemed reluctant to leave the house. Whether that was because he was more of an indoors person, or simply ‘cause he weren’t eager to spend time with me -- I didn’t know. But it was good to be with him regardless.

Approaching the large river, I came to a temporary halt as I crouched down and examined the ground, carefully searchin’ for any tracks that could’ve possibly led us to the buck.

The area here appeared undisturbed -- save for the fish flopping in and out of the babbling water -- and as far as I could tell, there weren’t no deer running around this section of the forest. Not at the moment, anyway. Maybe they were at a different part of the river.

I took a closer look at the grass, only to be torn away from my thoughts when Arthur raised a question.

“Dad?” He asked softly. “Can I...can I ask you something? About momma?”

I paused, thrown off-guard by the sudden change in tone.

“Momma?” I repeated, slowly turning towards the boy. “Why you wanna talk about her?”

Arthur’s expression sank with sorrow.

“It’s just...you knew her better than I did. Or longer, I guess. And I don’t remember her that good. ...Do you?”

I gazed at him in a puzzled manner, admittedly still a bit taken aback by the abrupt question.

“...Clear as day,” I replied, unwilling to sift through the painful memories. “But that don’t matter. She’s...she ain’t coming back, Arthur. No one does, once they die. Ain’t no point in lingerin’ in the past when it can only haunt you. All we can do is move on. You understand?”

Clearly a bit hurt by my response, Arthur dropped the subject and averted his eyes from me, peering over at a nearby gathering of flowers instead.

He slouched despondently. “...I understand.”

That wasn’t good enough for me. I took a step towards him.

“Look at me when you say that, Arthur,” I demanded. “It’s important you look people in the eye when you speak to them.”

The boy brought his line of sight back to me, his face veiled behind a very subtle layer of fear.

He straightened his back a bit. “I understand.”

I nodded in approval. “Good. Now...let’s get back to huntin’ this buck. You sure it was around the river?”

Arthur gazed around. “I saw it this morning when I was playing with Copper,” he confirmed. “It was drinkin’ water right here. That’s when I came to get you.”

I observed the dirt underneath me, squinting my eyes as I searched for clues. The grass in these parts was quite thick, so that made it even tougher to spot fur, or dung -- and I still didn’t see any deer tracks -- but it certainly looked like another animal had been around here.

I kneeled down, shuffling the grass outta the way with my hand.

“It looks like some wild horses might’ve passed through this area,” I examined. “But no sign of deer. Oh, well...the day is still young, and we have some time, so we’ll keep looking.” I gestured to a nearby bridge. “Let’s try over there.”

Grabbing my horse’s reins, I continued to guide it through the woods as Arthur scouted the area for me, his big blue eyes scanning the sharp horizon while the sun escalated in the sky. There was a certain determination in his temperament now, and the longer we carried on trying to locate this buck, the more my son seemed to be enjoying himself.

Perhaps there was hope for us, after all.

“...Dad?” The boy called again, making me flick my eyes to the side. “What if there are wolves out here?”

I encouraged him to stay calm. “Now, don’t you go worryin’ about that. If we see wolves out here, we’ll be fine. We’re armed, we’re fast, and we’re smart.”

Arthur wasn’t convinced. “...Momma was smart.”

I sighed in a melancholic tone at that. “Yes...she was. But...Momma was killed by a different type of wolf.”

He tilted his head in a puzzled manner. “What d’you mean?”

I gestured to my rifle. “Not all wolves are the same, Arthur. Some use their teeth, some use their guns, and some use their tongue. You gotta be able to identify them when you see ‘em.”

The kid didn’t say it flat out, but I could tell he knew what I was really talkin’ about.

“Those sound more like people.” He replied. I let out a gentle chuckle.

“People can be worse than wolves, Arthur. In fact, I’d prefer a wolf over some o’ the people I’ve met.”

Arthur leaned forward in the saddle, his body swaying along with Boadicea’s steady speed.

“What kinda people have you met?”

I lowered my voice, thinking back to the bandits who killed Beatrice.

“Killers. Thieves. Deceivers. Men who will constantly betray each other even though they share the same motive: greed.”

I turned to Arthur with a remorseful look, hopin’ to do at least one right thing in my life, and use myself as a cautionary tale that money weren’t as clean as it seemed.

“...Greed,” I told him, “it breaks people, Arthur. They may not realize it, ‘cause greed can get you far in this world...but the reward ain’t worth it. Not compared to the things you have to sacrifice. In the end, you’ll have tons of cash, only to realize that there are luxuries not even millionaires can afford.”

His innocence took over. “Then why do they do it?”

That was a question I asked myself everyday. I shrugged in a disheartened fashion.

“Because they don’t care. So long as their pockets is heavy, and their bellies is full, they’ll keep on going. But like I said, greed poisons you. It kills you. And you won’t even notice until you’re already sittin’ in a grave. So promise me, Arthur, promise me that when you get to my age...you won’t become a wolf.”

Despite evidently bein’ a little confused, the child was able to make some sense of what I just said and agreed to the promise, reassuring me with a small smile.

“I promise.”

“Good boy,” I praised, bringing my mind back to the main reason we came out here. “Anyway, here’s the bridge. Why don’t you hop down and help me find this buck?”

“Okay.”

Sliding down the saddle, Arthur effortlessly climbed down and joined me, scurrying ‘round like a mouse while he searched for any signs of the buck. But so far, there was nothing in sight.

“See anything?” I checked. The boy shook his head.

I wiped some sweat off my brow, letting out a fatigued sigh. This animal was certainly proving to be a challenge to hunt down. We had already been in this forest for a couple hours now, and our efforts still hadn’t paid off. Part o’ me was almost starting to suspect if Arthur even saw a deer in the first place, and not some other kinda animal.

I decided to take a short break, and turned to ask the boy.

“You positive the buck was roamin’ around in these parts? Or that it was a buck at all? I haven’t seen any tracks so far.”

A soft rustle suddenly reached my ears, interrupting my conversation with Arthur as I reached for my gun, only to be stopped by a sound I didn’t expect.

It was a man’s voice.

“...Don’t even think about it,” the stranger warned, cocking his own gun. “I will shoot if necessary.”

Freezing at the intrusion, I remained perfectly still and didn’t utter a single word as a pair of footsteps steadily approached me from behind, followed by two more men coming in from the front on horseback.

They were all dressed in similar outfits donned with Nevada hats, and I couldn’t help but notice the star-shaped badges shimmerin’ blatantly on their chests.

Shit. These were lawmen. What the hell were they doin’ out here? I never expected the law to travel this far into the country. This was definitely odd.

What really puzzled me though, weren’t the fact that there were three lawmen just...waitin’ for us out here -- it was more the fact that Arthur didn’t seem phased by any of this in the slightest. Just what exactly was goin’ on?

Trotting closer to me, one of the mounted men glowered in my direction as he ordered his deputy to restrain me, his firm, steel eyes never wavering.

I recognized him instantly.

“...Sheriff Buchanan.” I muttered through gritted teeth.

He returned the greeting, scowling from under his hat’s rim.

“Lyle Morgan.”

I shrugged at him, unsure of what to make of the situation.

“What is this shit? What’s the sheriff doing all the way out here?”

Buchanan glanced at Arthur, standing in front of him in a protective manner.

“I told you I’d use every option I had to get you behind bars, Morgan...and I meant it. You made the choice not to heed my warning.”

Taking a second to process what he just told me, the realization suddenly hit me like a bullet to the gut as I stared at Arthur with a sense of immense betrayal, unable to believe what was happening.

There never was no goddamned buck.

Things was never gonna work out for me and Arthur.

This was all a trap.

My own...son...had turned me in.

He was the bait, and Buchanan was the true hunter.

I clenched my jaw in rage, doing my absolute best to shield my emotions as the deputy kicked me to my knees.

“...A-Arthur...?” I whispered, my voice trembling.

The boy looked me straight in the eye, standing adamantly beside Buchanan as his deputies tied me up. I threw a glare at the sheriff, damning him till my last moments.

“You bastard, Buchanan...!” I cursed. “You turned my own damned son against me...?!”

The man showed no guilt and tightened his grip on his rifle, silently advising me to stay back.

“No need,” Buchanan denied. “You drove him to me all by yourself.”

He placed a gentle hand on Arthur’s shoulder and guided him towards the second deputy, ordering them to bring him back to town.

“Clayton, bring the boy back to the office. We’ll figure out where to send him later. For now though, just keep him safe, and look after him.”

“Right away, Sheriff.”

Preparing both his horse and mine for departure, the deputy left Arthur next to the sheriff as the boy stood firmly in place, his innocent yet damaged gaze never leavin’ mine.

Despite the hint of remorse clouding the child’s eyes, it was pretty obvious Arthur felt he made the right decision in turning me in. And just as Buchanan’s second deputy started to drag me away, I couldn’t help but notice a beautiful Whitetail buck wanderin’ around in the distance, its majestic antlers standing out like a crown on a monarch’s head as it bathed in the golden sunlight.

The animal swayed its head in my direction, almost as if trying to communicate with me.

“I’m sorry, dad,” Arthur whispered as he walked towards Clayton, blocking the buck in the process. “...But you made me promise.”

Taking his leave, the boy finally mounted up and steadily trotted away from the scene, only to reveal an empty spot where the buck once stood as he left the forest.

Well...I may have found the buck like I planned, but it weren’t my job to kill it.

And it certainly weren’t my place to look for it.

I could hunt them down to my heart’s content, and kill ‘em all I wanted for my own desires...but in the end, they would always be able to afford the one luxury I’d never obtained.

Peace.

[canadiankazz]

The Fourth Time - An L.A. by Night fanfic

Jasper and Annabelle's relationship has taken a lot of intimate steps lately, but when she lets him take the reins, so to speak, and let his more dominant side out, they manage to find a way to get even more pleasure out of it. 

SPOILERS for the end of Campaign 1 including the one-shots. This has gone off canon, so consider this an AU. It's worth reading Part 1 (The First Time), Part 2 (The Second Time) and Part 3 (The Third Time) before you read this. This fic takes place almost directly after The Third Time. This was written before the premiere of Season 2, Episode 2.

I lay no claim to owning any of the characters involved. Things are gonna get more kinky than they have been in this series so far from here on out. We are way past tame wrist biting now. We’re getting into some mild BDSM stuff in this part.

As always, special thanks to @cravatfiend for the support and encouragement during the writing of the drafts. When I asked them for a safe word, they picked the best one for Annabelle. I had the privilege of watching them read this for the first time and all they could say was "...Damn!" High praise, indeed. 

All my love, also, to @gokaiyellow for their additional input, @fluffy-wookiees for being adorable, and to everyone else who has enjoyed this series so far. There are many more parts to come after this one, no worries. (As of posting, I’m currently finishing writing part 8 with ideas for part 9!)

Also posted to the author's Ao3.

First posted Feb, 2, 2019.

The Entire ‘Feeds From’ Master List Can be Found Here

The Fourth Time

Annabelle was having a nightmare. She was running for her life through a dark sewer. Her shoes splashed through the filth. Rats squeaked and scattered in a panic as she charged forwards. Behind her, she could hear a dreadful snarling echoing through the tunnel. She couldn’t see the monster chasing her, but she could hear it. Its hungry growling was getting closer and closer. When, not if, but when it caught her, it was going to rip her apart and eat her alive. Her eyes scanned the walls and curved ceiling frantically for a ladder or escape hatch up to the streets above. There! A ladder appeared to her right. She climbed it as fast as she could, but right when she was about to push up through the manhole cover, she felt sharp claws grab her leg and pull her back down. She screamed.

Annabelle woke with a shudder. Her Beast strained in her chest and throat. The room she was in was dark. There were no windows. She was on her side facing a blank wall. She could feel someone else's body pressed against her back and a long arm curved cosily around her side and stomach that was not her own. There was no breath or body heat coming from the person behind her.

Then she remembered. She was in Jasper's sanctum again. In his bed, again. And he had fed on her last night, again. And now...

She tried to turn her head to look at him without disturbing him. His arm tightened around her a little.

“Jasper?” she whispered.

“Mm.”

He was awake. Annabelle relaxed a little and went back to looking at the wall. He seemed comfortable where he was and so was she, to her mild surprise. Their relationship had taken many great leaps these past few months.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hey,” he mumbled into her hair.

“Sleep well?”

“Like the dead.”

She rolled her eyes and poked his arm. “Ha. Ha.”

She heard him snarl softly in her ear as he smiled.

“You need a bigger bed,” she told him.

“Why?”

“Because we only barely fit on it.”

“I thought that this was only going to be a temporary thing,” he said, sounding amused. “Something to tie me over for a little while.”

“Well, clearly... it's not,” Annabelle said softly.

“We can't keep doing this forever,” he told her. His voice was gentle, but firm. “The others are going to find out, and... it's not a healthy relationship.”

Annabelle frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“What I mean is that...” he sighed, thinking of what to say. She felt him roll back slightly away from her. “It's one sided.”

“No... you feed from me sometimes and let me sleep in your bed sometimes, that's fair.”

“But you don't have to sleep here.”

“You don't have to feed from me either, but here we are,” Annabelle said pointedly. She sighed and touched his hand. “I don't want to argue with you. I... I am happy for this to continue as long as you want. I don't feel like it's one sided, Jasper. I thought you liked it... Liked me.”

“I do,” he admitted softly, “but that’s the problem. I think I’m liking it too much and... that scares me.”

Annabelle thought she understood now. He had told her that a Kindred feeding from another was a big deal and she got why now. Blood was more than just food for them, it was life, and sharing your life with someone else left a big impact. So too did someone forcibly taking it away. He had been trying to adjust to this new, kinder type of feeding and despite the fact that they had only done it three or four times in the past few months, maybe things were still, on an emotional level, going a little too fast for him. Annabelle awkwardly shifted, rolling over to face him. His hoodie was down. From what little light there was in the bedroom, she could see his pale, gaunt face. “It’s okay,” she said. “Don’t let it scare you. I think I get it though. We’ve been kind of going at my pace a little bit.”

Jasper remained quiet, but gave a slight nod. He could see she was more or less on the right track. He felt it in his blood.

“Okay,” Annabelle sighed slowly. “Do you want some emotional space?”

“I think so. To think things over.”

Annabelle nodded and stroked his arm. Her Vitae has done a good job healing him. “Okay,” she said. She didn’t want to make Jasper uncomfortable in this relationship. “How about this... if you want to do this again, you call me, okay? And we’ll do it however you want to.”

“Okay,” Jasper said. He lent forward a little and his forehead touched Annabelle’s for a brief, tender moment. “Thank you,” he whispered. Then he rolled over and got out of bed.

Annabelle stayed where she was, not wanting to get up yet. “You still owe me a boon, remember?”

“Mm. True.”

“And I've thought about what I want from you. If anything happens to me, anything really bad, I want you to take care of Mark and Elleanore for me.”

“What do you mean by 'take care of?'” he asked.

“Watch out for them. Make sure they don't get attacked, I guess? Just keep them safe, as best you can.” Her hand found her golden locket around her neck and held it.

Jasper considered this briefly and decided that it wasn't unreasonable. It was certainly less embarrassing than teaching X how to moonwalk. “Alright,” he nodded.

“Thank you,” Annabelle said tenderly.

Then Jasper stretched his long limbs. Annabelle could her his joints crack and pop. She sat up and sighed. She was hungry. She needed to go.

She packed up her laptop and the little plastic candles she had brought the night before. Jasper helped to collect them. “Will I see you again later?” She asked hopefully.

Jasper shrugged. “At some point, yes. I want to explore my labyrinth this week, and I know the others will be tracking down those other Kindred who attacked us the other night. We should help with that.”

Annabelle nodded. She was angry that her group had been attacked and she hadn't been there to help. At least she could help in the aftermath. She dreaded to think what would have become of Jasper if she hadn't gotten to him when she did. “Yeah.”

An invisible Jasper walked Annabelle to Griffith College, then they parted ways. They both had a lot to do.

**

Jasper kept himself busy over the next few weeks. He explored his labyrinth. He visited Eva. He received and carried out more jobs for Baron Abrams. All the while, Annabelle's movements and moods were in the back of his mind. The longer he went without feeding on her, the weaker his bond with her became. Part of him missed that. He found himself delaying finding another more permanent solution to his empty larder. He knew that eventually he would have to go back to his more aggressive feeding style, but he also knew he would miss having someone give him their honest and thoughtful consent. It made him feel a tiny bit less like a monster.

That got him thinking. Despite himself, he started to formulate a plan, purely hypothetical, of how his next feeding session with Annabelle could go. She had asked him to come back to her when he was ready to initiate things again and had said that they could do things his way if they wanted to. He had genuinely appreciated that. There was something dominant about him that was asking to be satisfied. Every time it came down to the act of feeding in the past, Jasper had been violent and dominant. Until Annabelle came along and offered herself to him, that is. That had changed things. Jasper had become what was for him, very submissive. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but it wasn't what he wanted to be doing all the time, every time.

He was curious, also, about how far he could push Annabelle's boundaries. She was the one who always wanted more and he had been holding back. He knew very well what he was physically capable of and what his Beast demanded of him. The thought of challenging Annabelle, daring her to keep up with him intrigued him. By the time Jasper finished planning the night he had in mind, he knew that he might regret it forever if he didn't try it. The worst that would happen was Annabelle would say no. He might be a little disappointed, but that was nothing new. He waited another few nights, then decided to set his plan in motion.

**

Annabelle was on her way home when she thought she heard something behind her. She paused, straining her senses, searching for something unseen. At first, there was nothing, then she heard Jasper’s disembodied voice in her ear. “Hey.”

She jumped. “God...!”

“No, just me.” Jasper sounded highly amused.

“Jasper, what are you doing?” She hissed, annoyed at being startled like that.

“I was going to ask you...” he started, then hesitated, possibly reconsidering his words. “Would like to come over tomorrow night for another round?”

Annabelle felt a ghost of a touch on her neck and shoulder, right where he had bitten her last time. She shivered and something deep in her core twisted in the memory of pleasure. “Uhhh... sure,” she said faintly. Her mouth was dry and she swallowed. “Can I ask why? I thought you might not want to any more.”

“I’d been thinking,” Jasper said in her ear with a light snarl, “that there are a few things I would like to try with a consenting individual such as yourself, and I don’t know when I will get the chance to do them again. I would be a fool to not ask.” He put special emphasis on the word ‘consenting.’ His voice was soft and sensual, unusually so, but it was undercut with a thirst that Annabelle recognised.

“Okay, um... how about I come over tomorrow and we’ll talk about it and... see where we go from there,” she said.

“Alright. Come by 3:00,” Jasper replied, “and bring those little plastic candles. And yes... you may sleep over as well.”

Annabelle nodded. “See you then.”

“Oh, one last thing...” she felt Jasper’s lips on her ear and she shivered again, despite herself. “In the meantime, can you think of a safe word, please?”

Annabelle’s eyes went very wide. What on earth could he be planning that would need a safe word? “Uh...” she stammered.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course. Well, I have to, for us to do this, right?”

“We don’t have to do this,” he reminded her.

“I know, but... I want to.” Annabelle swallowed nervously and steadied her nerves. “Okay. I’ll think of something.”

“Alright. See you tomorrow.”

She didn’t hear him leave, but she hadn’t heard him approach either. She stood there in mild shock for another little while with her hands over her mouth and cheeks. She cursed herself for being as excited as she was. This was going to be very, very interesting. She hurried the rest of the way home.

**

When Annabelle arrived once again at Jasper's sanctum the next night, she had her bag with her with the plastic candles and her laptop in it. She had fed earlier, as much as she could without killing any one. She was almost beside herself with nervous excitement. Part of her thought that she should be more apprehensive, that she should let someone know where she was just in case things went bad. But she trusted Jasper. He had been very good to her so far, very good indeed, and he didn't seem to want to ruin this relationship they had going. She trusted the control he had over himself. She still believed that, over-all, he wasn't a bad guy.

She knocked on his front door. Jasper answered it quickly. He had been waiting for her in the passage way on the other side again. He was wearing a different black hoodie this night. This one had fewer layers and just a straight zipper up and down. It was casual. Easy to get into and out of. Interesting.

They smiled at each other and Jasper invited her in. She followed him closely back down the long passage way, though she was sure by now she had the route memorised. They caught up with a little small talk. As they got closer to his rooms, Annabelle could hear faint music. It was classical, something with an orchestra and a choir. They weren't singing in English... Latin, maybe? Annabelle wasn't as knowledgeable on her classical pieces. “You're playing music?” She asked, pleased and surprised.

“Yeah, to set a mood.” Jasper smirked at her. She recognised her own line that she had used on him last time she was here.

“Oh, I see,” she chuckled. “What is it?”

“Mozart’s Requiem in D Minor.” Jasper licked his fangs. “Tell me... have you learned Blush of Life yet?”

“Um... yeah. Yes, I have.” Annabelle had used it very successfully around Elleanore. It gave her a pulse, warmed her skin, let her breathe and otherwise seem almost entirely human again. Annabelle tilted her head a little at Jasper, slowly working out what he had planned. “Why?”

His grin was sharp. “I would like you to use it tonight.”

“Oh... yeah, sure. Right now?”

“If you'd like, or we can wait until we get to the bedroom.”

“I'll wait,” she decided. So far, she liked where this was going.

In the bedroom, they set up her candles on the floor as they did last time. The room was soon full of artificial, warm candlelight. The classical music continued in the background, unobtrusive.

“Did you decide on a safe word?” Jasper inquired.

“Yeah. Um... are you familiar with the stoplight method?”

He considered it. “Red, yellow, green?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Green means go, yellow means slow down, and red means stop. It's basic, but effective.”

Jasper nodded. “Alright. We're going to use that tonight. Unless I hear you say 'yellow' or 'red,' I'm going to assume that everything is green.”

“No gags, then, please,” Annabelle specified.

“No,” Jasper agreed. That had never been a part of his plan for tonight.

Annabelle kept glancing at his fangs while he spoke. She couldn’t help it. His eyes had a hungry and excited gleam. She suspected that he and his Beast were working in near harmony tonight. Well, they had their safe word in place. Everything would be okay. She was feeling brave and keen to see how far Jasper was going to push things tonight.

When she was ready, Annabelle nodded and slipped off her red jacket, as was their custom by now. She had worn the good bra again. Jasper recognised the shape of it under her thin tank top. He snarled a little when he smiled.

“On the bed, please,” he gestured to the bed. Annabelle complied, her lips twitching into a little smile. She sat on the bed, then lay back. As she did so, she activated Blush of Life. Her Beast stirred a little, but was still mostly dormant. She glanced at Jasper. He was staring at her with an expression of incredible desire. He came over to her and sat on the bed. He held her hand and seemed to marvel for a few seconds at its warmth. Annabelle's body fell back into the natural rhythm of breathing. Jasper felt her pulse in her wrist. His fingers were very cold by comparison, and felt very dead. He snarled to himself, pleased.

“I don't have Blush of Life,” he explained softly. “I never bothered to learn how to do it. I mean... why would I? Who am I going to try to convince that I'm alive?”

“You still could learn,” Annabelle said. She could think of at least one person he might have used Blush of Life on, if he could, but bringing up that person was very likely going to ruin the mood, so she didn't.

He shook his head. “I could, but it's doubtful.” He seemed to be enjoying just feeling her hands for a moment. The classical music swelled and faded into a new piece of a similar feel to the last, but a faster tempo.

Jasper moved suddenly. With little warning, he was on top of Annabelle, straddling her hips. He had one knee pressed on either side of her ribs. He wasn't very heavy, especially not for a Brujah's strength to support. Annabelle's insides quivered in anticipation. She felt vulnerable, but she remembered all she had to do was say one or two words and he would stop. She understood finally what he had been planning. Jasper looked down at Annabelle, his icy eyes boring into hers. Her heartbeat sped up considerably. Her face flushed. She met his gaze, excited but steady. The degree to which she wanted this to continue bewildered her.

Slowly now, he peeled his hood off his head. Then his hands went to the zipper in the front of his hoodie and he slowly began to tug it down. Annabelle's eyes went wide as Jasper's chest was exposed. He was built of nothing but lean muscle. His flesh was as pale as death save for the starkly contrasting mass of black veins that criss-crossed his body like an insane roadway map. He had no body hair. He unzipped the hoodie down to the bottom, but didn't take it all the way off. This was a compromise, she realised. She had wanted to see what he looked like under his layers for a while, and he had always said no. This was an in-between he was allowing her.

She gave him a warm smile, but when she reached to touch him he stopped her. He gripped one hand in each of his and leaned down over her. He pinned her warm hands and wrists down with his deathly cold hands to the mattress above her head. He continued to watch her, as if daring her to say 'yellow' or 'red.' She didn't. His grip on her was strong. Their faces were close now. Annabelle was breathing hard.

Jasper bared his fangs and growled at her, as if trying to scare her. He was the monster from myth and legend, the deadly black shadow with razor sharp fangs who stalked helpless people at night and she was the young, naive victim. He was perhaps even trying to provoke her one last time into saying their safe word. She did look scared for a moment. There was fear in her eyes, in her Beast, but still she didn’t say either of the words that would make Jasper pull back. A true victim, she was no longer. Annabelle was allowing this to happen.

“Green?” he rasped, edging towards losing control.

“Green,” she nodded and tilted her head to expose her neck. Blood, warm blood, flowed there, and some of it at least, was his for the taking.

The music swelled again in the background as the choir reached a melodramatic crescendo. With a hungry snarl Jasper bit Annabelle hard in the throat. She gasped at the pain. Jasper had good aim. His long, wicked fangs had landed right on her jugular. He bit deep, and his mouth filled with Vitae. She was as sweet, strong and aroused as always, but this time her blood was body temperature. Jasper had never had warm Vitae from another Kindred before. His Beast exalted. He began to drink greedily, keeping an ear open for Annabelle wanting to end this early. He hoped she would not.

The pleasure of the Kiss soon followed, radiating out over Annabelle's body and making her moan. Her eyes rolled back in her skull. She flexed her arms against Jasper, but he still held her down, firmly pinning her to the mattress. Her body, still under the influence of Blush of Life, reacted as it normally would have to intense pleasure. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her pulse raced, sending vital blood into Jasper's hungry mouth. Her brain was very soon dizzy, but she didn't care. Her Beast scrambled, but was soundly ignored in the overwhelming wave of sensations. Annabelle didn't know if it was because of this new, intense situation or the anticipation that had led up to it, but the pleasure this time was near orgasmic. When she felt Jasper bite a little harder in his enthusiasm, it crossed that threshold and she crested with a cry. Annabelle's body trembled uncontrollably underneath Jasper's from her core outwards.

Jasper lingered on Annabelle's throat for a moment or two longer, then pulled his head back with a snarl. His fangs and tongue were painted a deep crimson. Annabelle only barely noticed this. She shivered when he licked her wound closed and he thought he heard her whimper. His Beast whispered at him to continue, that this had been the best he ever had, but he clenched his jaw and ignored it.

Jasper sat up and let her hands go. She didn't move them. She lay there still, breathing hard, eyes closed. Each exhale had a little moan attached to it. He watched her chest heave up and down for a minute. The music faded and changed again to a soprano singing backed by strings and a piano.

Annabelle opened her eyes and saw Jasper watching her. He was still straddling her hips. She smiled up at him. “Wow,” she mumbled. She lowered her hands and rested them on his knees on either side of her body. Jasper didn’t mind. He chuckled at her reaction. “I... mm...” Words were failing her as her blood-deprived brain swam in a haze of endorphins.

“Good?” Jasper confirmed.

Annabelle still couldn’t speak, but she nodded.

Jasper slid carefully off of her and sat on the bed next to her. He hadn't taken a lot of Vitae this time, but what he had taken was potent indeed. His head was also filled with endorphins, mainly from her, but he didn't have the Blush of Life to let his body do anything about it.

“I can't believe you let me do that,” he chuckled softly. He re-zipped up his hoodie, but only part way. He left the top third or so of it open. “I thought for sure you were going to stop me when I pinned you down.”

Annabelle stretched and smiled at him. Other than an internal scolding from her Beast, she was content, still reeling slightly from the pleasures she had been through. “But I didn't.”

Jasper relaxed down next to her on the narrow bed as best he could. He found himself playing a little with her long, black hair. Their bond had deepened again, he knew. At that moment, in that place, he did not care. “You liked it... rather a lot,” he remarked, still amused. His fangs, when Annabelle saw them, were clean now.

“Yeah...” Annabelle marvelled. She covered her face with her hands as embarrassment washed over her. The pleasure this time had been too, too much. “Oh my God!” he heard her muffled giggle.

“What?” Jasper inquired, though he was fully aware of what had happened to her body and why. He was having fun.

Annabelle peeked at him through her fingers. She was grinning. “Is that what you had planned?” she demanded.

“More or less, yes. I'm glad it worked.”

Annabelle groaned softly. “Did you know about... that I would...”

Jasper smirked. “I kind of suspected... but no, but it was a pleasant surprise.” He stroked a cold, pale hand down her arm to her chest, where it settled over her still-beating heart.

“Boy, I'll say,” Annabelle agreed.

Feeling Annabelle's magically enforced heartbeat made Jasper get very quiet and suddenly a little introverted. His eyes found the gold locket hanging around Annabelle's neck and the silver ring on her finger and he pulled his hand back. He got up and went to turn off the music and the lights so that they could settle into bed.

When dawn broke over the City of Angels, the majority of the population arose to begin their day of work and school and life, but Jasper and Annabelle were once again literally dead to the world. The two vampires shared the little bed, holding each other. Where their relationship would take them now, neither of them knew, but in that moment at least, they were content.

[iamsonyeondone]

prince!au // zhong chenle

☆+｡･ﾟfluffy!! and an itty bit angsty  

☆+｡･ﾟ 1.8k words

prince chenle was no doubt born to be someone of a high caliber

even if he didnt have that royal blood in him, everyone’s amazed by his abilities

the skills he has to play the piano at such a young age aS well as sing with the most angelic voice

and that he was meant to charm anyone and everyone who sees him, perform or just as he is

he is also such a hardworking student, as quoted by his tutors

and that anyone who has personally met him agreed that he’s really sweet and altogether a well-rounded person

not to mention how he makes the atmosphere much more calming and fun during balls

especially when he’s joined in by his other 6 best friends

everyone is torn between him and his brother when it comes to the better heir to the throne

but chenle doesnt make this topic of his utmost importance because he’s more than sure that his older brother was going to take over

and he’s completely fine with it, if not, more than proud to have the kingdom be taken by his sibling that he cares for

which also means that he has the choice of doing what he loves most

which was to perform and dazzle the crowd

he’s always performed for the balls held at the palace 

whether it was a symphonic piece on the piano, a heart-warming tune with his voice, or both!!

and he definitely loves the attention when everyone cheers for him at the top of their lungs

until you came along

you were the child of a duchess and you were very popular for being a violin prodigy

from little, you’ve always performed for balls too and from there, you were given the opportunity to learn it on an advanced level when you were scouted

and when you came to one of the certain royal ball wink wink chenle was a little dumbfounded when he found out that there was someone who was just as good as him at performing

but when he saw you perform, putting all your emotion into the violin while your movements remain precise

he cant help but be mesmerised

and you on the other hand, was glad that there was someone you could have a middle ground with

“good evening your majesty, your performance was amazing today,” you greeted him while the adults paired up on the dance floor

“you did pretty well yourself. i’m sorry but i’ve never seen you before,” he turned to look at you, an adorable smile on his face

“my family and i move around quite alot, probably why you’ve never seen me although i was born here,” you returned a smile back, taking a bite of one of the snacks from the table

“i see, so i bet you’ve seen some of my friends,”

“i’ve seen a lot of people of course, you’ve got to be more specific than that, your majesty,” you chuckled

and chenle takes a moment to get a better look at you 

“just call me chenle, its weird when a friend of mine calls me that,”

and from then onwards, the both of you laughed the night away

playing hide and seek on the palace grounds and sneaking some food from the kitchen as well as him showing you wround his favourite hiding places from the stuffy meetings

its safe to say that the both of you became very close friends at the end of the night

and chenle was quite upset when you hear your mother looking for you

“i have to go but i hope we get to meet again some time,” you smile, still giggling from the aftermath of causing quite a mess in the kitchen

“i do hope to see you when we hold another ball in about a month. it’ll be boring if you dont come so you better promise me that,”

chenle lifts up his pinky, wiggling it towards you with a wide grin

with your smile mirroring his, you intertwined your pinkies with his and waved goodbye

during that long painful month, chenle was really distracted by the thoughts of you

the way you laughed at his lame jokes or just by his own dolphin-like laugh, the little stories you tell him from your mansion while the look of disgust sticks onto your face

and maybe it was also the way you smiled at him with twinkles in your eyes

and the sound of your laugh which sounded far more angelic than the opera singers who come by to perform

chenle is scared to admit that he is in fact in love

while you were gladly accepting the strong feelings enveloping your heart

being reminded of his high-pitched laugh always gets you giggling during dinner

which raises eyebrows from your parents

and the way you would naturally squeal when you remember him smiling back at you with his pinky finger raised, makes your butler tease you about it every single day

and when the day comes that you attend the ball at the palace, youre spoiled for choice when your maids show you your choices

“which one looks better on me,Ms Lim?” you tilt your head thinking that it may give you a clearer decision

“the blue one looks amazing on you milady although all of them accentuates your beauty,” she smiled, while you groan in frustration when nothing comes to mind

“could you bring Mr Park in? he’s painfully straight-forwards sometimes but i think it’s actually beneficial in this case,” you sigh, flopping onto your bed while she fetched your butler

when you hear the familiar ‘yes milady?’ you shoot up from your spot and pouted

“Mr Park, i dont know which dress to choose for Chenl- the royal Zhong family ball,” 

and he stands there for a moment, ready to spit out a teasing remark before picking a more simpler outfit from the collection of choices

“contrary to popular belief, milady does in fact look better in something more simple. And im confident that prince chenle will agree,” he smile before bowing and taking his leave

and your face explodes in the colour red at his statement

you slipped into the outfit and twirled in front of your full-length mirror

until your mother knocked onto your door

“we need to talk,”

chenle waited anxiously in the corner of the ballroom, at the exact same spot the both of you had met

and while the other kings and queens from distant kingdoms as well as duch and duchesses greet him, he only had his eyes on finding you

so when you finally walked through the entrance with your family, his heart skipped a beat

and chenle had this big unstoppable grin on his face

that is until your eyes meet and the only thing he is met with is a sad smile

“why the long face?” he greeted you, still mustering a small smile as you curtsied

“its,,, nothing. but dont you think you hear the king and queen calling you over?” you chuckled, darting your gaze to his parents who had been calling him over by the piano

an indication that he started charming the crowds as usual

but with a bigger plan in mind

“did you bring your violin?” he asked excitedly, taking hold of your hand and squeezing it tightly

“of course, but why?” you raise a brow, suspicious of the next action of this mischievous boy

“get it quick, its going to be our first duet together,” he laughed, dragging you towards the growing crowd around the piano

once chenle adjusted himself on his seat and nodded as the cue, he began playing each note with care as you soon followed

the piano churned out a harmonious tune while your violin had a soft sadness undertone to it

and chenle finally had a hunch, even without having you to tell him explicitly

this was your first duet with him and it may be the last

once chenle ended the song, the both of you stood together to bow in front of the audience with your hand in his

and even though the crowd had already dispersed to continue waltzing around the room, chenle didnt let your hand go

“theres one more place i havent shown you yet,” he smiled cheekily as he sneaked his way around the palace guards

even with the numerous questions you had been showering him with, chenle simply shrugged and continued with a “you’ll see”

and when he pushes the heavy maroon curtain away to reveal the small secluded garden, you gasp in admiration

the garden was small yet bursting with life - roses blooming beautifully in the moonlight while the soft splashing of the water fountain came as a comforting lullaby

“i come here whenever i want to fully unwind,” he sighed, taking a seat on a bench that had been sheltered by a short tree yet its branches reached further than most 

“or did you mean when you’re being called to study?” you teased, taking a seat next to him, making him scrunch his nose in annoyance

and the both of you sit in silence for awhile, watching the stars twinkle in the navy blue sky

until a thought comes to you

because chenle, the boy with the loudest and highest-pitched laugh, was quiet

and you feel yourself growing more conscious of the situation

“so why did you bring me here? there must be a reason why since my ears havent bled yet,” 

and when you look at him, he’s not looking back and that once cheerful smile is nowhere to be seen

and maybe your eyes are just playing with you because theres this hint of pink on his cheeks

but maybe you’re just seeing things

“you mentioned that you move around a lot so how long will you be overseas this time?” 

and when he finally stares back into your eyes, sadness evident yet still attempting to smile, your heart shatters into a million pieces

youre silent for a moment, unsure of how to tell him about the news while you try your best to word it in your head

“i’m,,, i might not be coming back- but! ,,,,but its not final,” and chenle smiled, a little chuckle leaving his lips

“then until our next meeting, i’ll look at the sky and think of you. it’s not that hard trying to find some similarities between you and the moon yknow - a little grey-”

and the sad mood lightens up as you nudged him hard, knocking him over as his clumsiness only further pushed him off the bench

the night ended with laughter and giggles as always

and whenever you look at the night sky in your temporary home, you stifle a giggle when you’re reminded of the dolphin laugh you’ve come to love

a/n: ew this is so sappy but i hope you guys love sappy ksjhalfals tbh that last line is so full of crack and if you dont laugh at it, youre not human

[sharedheadspace]

(host reblogged a ‘gay ask meme’ to their personal + we were asked a few questions from it)

2. whats your “type”

jasper: generally, ‘farmers market hot’ masculine people who could probably kick my ass in a fight. theres plenty of exceptions, but thats the easiest way to tell, say, which character in a movie ill be automatically drawn to. when it comes to actually being interested in and dating someone, i like people i can rely on to tell me when im being an ass, but also help me through mood swings and bad brain days. honesty is the key trait

maura: the type of people where you look at them and just feel warmth and happiness radiating from them. maybe they don’t feel it themselves, in that moment, but they have a sort of, an aura of peace, i suppose

elliott: kindness, and the phrase “quiet strength”, come to mind

maur: knives, good hair, and a nice ass

6. describe your experience having sex for the first time (were you nervous? or was it easy peasy?)

jasper: really it depends on which life we’re talking about. like in fallout, i was definitely nervous, and we had to work around my scars being a major trigger for me, but overall it wasnt a terrible experience. saints row, on the other hand... ehh, theres a number of reasons i dont talk much about my sex life outside of my relationship with tsurin. my gray warden life was much the same, and im fairly certain in my other dragon age lives i was either drunk or dissociated anyways, so i wasnt even entirely present then

maura: a little nervous, but mostly excited and eager. i can remember that much

elliott: i do not, remember really, but. i would imagine it was uncomfortable, probably. lackluster. not that i, ever had much interest in sex, to begin with

8. opinion on nap dates?

elliott: the ideal

maur: boring as hell if im not already tired. i wanna do shit

10. dog gay or cat gay?

jasper, maura, and maur are dog people

elliott and kite vote cat

clara has no strong feelings one way or the other. she likes turtles though

14. what is a piece of advice you would give to your younger self

jasper: sex is only as important and necessary as you want it to be

maura: try to communicate more. make sure everyone is always on the same page, not just during sex

maur: just dont fuckin go to the imperial city. there aint nothin good there

clara: youre hot. use it

kite: you do not have to settle just because you believe you won’t find anything better. you are worth more. your family is

16. who is an ex you regret?

jasper: i dont know if johnny counts. technically we werent together, it was just. a one-off thing, yknow? and maybe if we’d both been in better headspaces at the time it couldve been more than sex, but we werent, so it wasnt, and it was more or less the end of whatever friendship we had. we just drifted apart after that until he died

maur: i still daydream of murderin tanger. feels good to crack his jaw in my head

clara: my first partner was actually a boy, and far too immature to be dating, much less to accept that his girlfriend of maybe a year was turning out to be a lesbian. he kept harassing me after we broke up until i finally decked him with a chair on the presidium. got in trouble with c-sec for starting a fight; dad wasnt happy until i explained it. watched the video jack recorded of it and gave me advice on how to more efficiently beat the jerks ass if he came back for a second round

18. who is one person you would “go straight” for

clara: who wouldnt date liam kosta? the mans a walking ray of sunshine

22. have you ever unknowingly asked out a straight person?

jasper: chances are yes

maura: bann alfstanna was very tragically heterosexual

clara: oh yes. several. i seem to attract them in a friend way, which makes it excessively difficult to be properly gay

kite: i had the misfortune of marrying one

24. have you ever been heartbroken?

jasper: probably. definitely. hard to think of examples that dont revolve around someone dying, but i dont doubt they happened

maura: oh yes, absolutely. i was with two people for several years, thought we were going to be together more or less forever, only to find out they both considered it a temporary arrangement and they got engaged behind my back. it was not a pretty breakup, i’m sure you can guess

elliott: yes. although, in their defense, i did literally die. i was, not supposed to re-enter their lives

maur: yeah. not always over a relationship, or at least the romantic-y kind, but yeah

clara: most likely. i have few memories but i doubt everything was sunshine and smiles all the time

kite: several times

[magmasliveblogs]

1.04 R

im back! sorry for the short hiatus after i said i would start regular posting again, classes are starting up again and frankly its been just as hectic as i remember. recap! last chapter erin played chess  against 100 antinium in a hive mind and gained a green skill! those are unique. 

as this is a ryoka chapter i will reiterate that i frankly cant stand perusa and wont be putting those sections in this except for notable moments. 

Ow.

Fuck.

Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ouch. Ow.

This is why painkillers were invented. Damn it. Stop moving.

Flip the page.

It’s hot. Why can’t people invent air conditioning in this stupid world already? And the common room of an inn is not the best place to read in peace. But it beats sitting in my room and listening to drunk people banging down the hall or having sex.

This is why I hate people.

well someone woke up on the right side of the bed today. but less sarcasm will reveal that the last time we saw ryoka perusa caused her leg to be broken via cart sooooooooo

Okay. Focus. Ignore them. What does it say?

‘…The incursion of the Antinium hives into the southern region of the continent led to the bloody year-long war known as the Incursion War, or more generally, the First Antinium War, in which hundreds of thousands of Antinium soldiers established huge colonies across the southern plains, razing cities and forcing Gnoll tribes to retreat into the lower plains regions.

Initially, the northern cities and allied confederacies were slow to react to the Antinium sweeping through the plateaus and rugged mountainous regions of the continent, underestimating the dangers of an entrenched Antinium hive and the true numbers of the Antinium concealed beneath the earth. It was only after five cities were lost that—’

GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! My foot!

Why, why, why did the stupid chair have to be right there? The pain!

ooo some history! it seems the antinium wars were similar to the world wars? also the north seems a bit lackluster when it comes to fast response 

Crap. Did I bust open the injury? Let me see.

It’s hard to scoot back from my table to peer underneath it, but I can see the heavy white gauze. It’s bloody, but no more than it was last time I checked. Wonderful.

And it still hurts. I’ve broken bones before but it never felt anything like this. But considering this injury—

Yeah.

Fuck.

One of the barmaids is looking at me. I stare right back at her and she turns away. I’m really not in the mood for attention. And thinking about the pain only wants to make me scream out loud. Half from the pain, half from searing rage. So. Back to the book.

Okay. Ignore the pain. What was that about Antinium? Are they still around? I flip through the pages.

Confederacy of states…hasty alliance…skip all that. Ah.

ryokas vocabulary of expletives seems a bit lacking, perhaps she could buy a local thesaurus or get some tutoring from some sort of [heckler]? 

‘The tide of the war only changed after the discovery of the Antinium’s fatal weakness. Using their newfound tactics, the Southern Alliance used long-range mage spells to assault Antinium hives and deter attacking forces.

Several hives were destroyed entirely before a temporary truce was formed between the Antinium Queens and the leaders of the city states. This peace was tenuous however and lasted for only eight years when the Antinium attacked again, leading to the Second Incursion War…’

Weakness. They had a weakness? Must have missed that bit.

Let’s see. Where would that be? And why haven’t I seen these ant-people around? Well, they’re pariahs or outcasts to most societies, so I guess that’s why. But do they have any useful features or are they just bug-people?

Oh, here’s the weakness.

I pause with my finger on the passage as I hear a cheerful voice calling my name above the hubbub of the inn. Oh. Oh no. Not her again.

retcon! only one hive was destroyed across both wars, and the queen survived 

Ryoka Griffin was sitting in the middle of an inn. It was not an extraordinary inn—just one of the many inns located in the human city of Celum.

She was reading and scowling. Because she was talented, she could do both at the same time. She was also sitting by herself, occasionally eating from a cold plate left in front of her. A cold glass of juice beaded with condensation on the table in front of her. That at least she regularly drank from, which was necessary in the crowded heat of the inn.

“Hey there, Ryoka!”

A cheerful voice drowned out the ambient noise of conversation and drew every head towards the person that had entered the inn. Ryoka looked up from her book and spotted the girl making her way towards her. Her expression didn’t change, but her eye twitched once.

“Hey, Ryoka, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine, Garia.”

Garia Strongheart slid into an empty chair at the table and smiled cheerfully at Ryoka. Her cheerfulness was not reciprocated in kind. Ryoka just glanced up at Garia and went back to reading.

Undeterred, Garia flagged down a barmaid and requested one of the local drinks, a strong, semi-alcoholic beverage that was cool and flavorful at the same time. In Ryoka’s opinion, it was a shame that the flavor in question was beer.

“So, how are you doing? Is your leg feeling any better?”

Ryoka glanced up and glared.

“Guess.”

Garia’s smiled faltered.

this may seem a bit rude but when im just having a bad day or am sick there is just something immensely satisfying about causing someone who is normally super cheerful to falter 

“Did you—did you go to see the [Healer] I told you about? She’s a good one. Works with us Runners all the time.”

“Couldn’t help. The bone’s too badly broken.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

Ryoka had a talent for shutting down conversations. Garia stared at her, and tried to surreptitiously glance at her bandaged leg. She winced, and covered her wince by changing the subject.

“Is that a book?”

Ryoka glanced up from her book. She eyed Garia.

“…Yes.”

“What’s it about?”

“History.”

“You mean, world history like you were asking me about the other day? Sorry I didn’t know more.”

Ryoka shook her head.

“The history of the cities.”

“Oh. Is it, um, interesting?”

“Not really.”

It was fascinating. Ryoka was no history buff, but it was amazing what being transported to another world did for her interest in mundane things like economics and politics.

“It must be nice, being able to read.”

The envy in Garia’s tone made Ryoka look up at last.

“…You can’t?”

Garia turned red.

“Not so much. I can do signs and math but – I mean, most folk can’t read too well. Not books or anything fancy like that. Fals can read, though. I’ve seen him reading books.”

Ryoka raised her eyebrows.

“Good for him.”

Again, Garia was forced to continue a mostly one-sided conversation.

“Where’d you get the book?”

“I bought it in the market. Didn’t cost much.”

“Really? I thought most books were several gold coins – at least.”

“Some sell for silver. Either way, it’s fine.”

Ryoka scowled as she chomped on another lukewarm slice of ham. The lack of any library in this city meant she had to buy any books she wanted to read, and some were annoyingly expensive. But she wasn’t about to get into a discussion of economics with Garia and fuel the conversation.

The problem was, Garia was more than capable of finding topics of interest by herself. The other girl stared at the pile of books on the table.

some people refuse to take the hint it seems 

“Are you going to read all of these, then?”

“Read ‘em.”

“What, all of them?”

“Not like I have anything else to do.”

Ryoka deliberately turned a page.

yep, this sort of mood typically means people want to be left alone. i dont care how extroverted you are just leave them alone 

I really wish she’d go away. Or do I? At least she’s keeping drunk guys from hitting on me.

I hate this. I hate her, I hate this inn, and I hate this entire world. If I could burn it down to the ground I’d—

Probably not. At least, she’s not the one I hate. So maybe destroy all the world except for a few people.

But the pain. And boredom, let’s not forget. It’s a sad day when Garia’s daily visit is the most interesting thing that happens to me.

It’s been one week since my ‘accident’. Another week of this and I might seriously snap. But my leg—

Damn it all. If I could kill every damned Street Runner in the world I would in an instant. Even if I had to stare into their eyes as I choked them to death. I will have vengeance, I swear it.

But until then, how the hell do I heal my leg? How, how, how? If it’s really beyond most normal magics—

Ask Garia. She might know of a better way, even if her first idea failed. Worth a shot, and I hope I have enough money for whatever I need. Crap, she’s been talking and I have no idea what she said. Better wing it.

Huh. That’s a crowd coming in right now. Hope they don’t want to share the table. They look familiar, though.

Who’s that? Another Runn—

Her.

Kill her. Stab her. Break her bones. Don’t do it. Do it. Hurt her. Smash her stupid face in. Kill. Killkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkill—

no sarcasm here, understandable attitude. 

its another perusa section, so moving on 

What might have happened next was anyone’s guess. Persua was still gloating, oblivious to the trouble, but Garia could see Ryoka glancing at a sharp knife sitting on her plate. The Street Runners behind Persua were numerous, but they were getting unfriendly looks from other inn patrons who might just relish a bar fight if it meant getting rid of unwanted strangers.

Garia was debating the merits of getting stabbed and preventing a fight, versus witnessing Persua’s death, regardless of whatever consequences it entailed.

But then the door opened again, and a hush fell over the room. Where the Street Runners had entered into the noise and chaos of the inn, the next group that entered brought silence with them.

Casual inn-goers of the variety of merchants, farmers, shopkeepers and so on scrambled out of the way as a huge, armored Minotaur strode into the room. He had a massive steel battleaxe strapped to his back, and he was followed by five more adventurers: three mages and two more warriors all armed to the teeth.

The Horns of Hammerad looked around and spotted Ryoka and Garia on the other side of the inn. Their leader immediately made a beeline for the two, walking in an open space of his own. No one wanted to get in the way of the Minotaur’s path.

Persua was still mocking Ryoka and Garia, oblivious to the newcomers in the inn. The Street Runners behind her were nervously eying the approaching adventurers, but they didn’t move from their spot.

The Minotaur named Calruz stopped in front of the Street Runners and glared down at them. Persua turned and let out a high pitched scream as she saw his face. He jerked one thumb and pointed.

“You. Runners. Out of the way.”

when a minotaur tells you to get out of the way, you get out of the way 

The Street Runners exchanged one glance and then shifted out of the way. Calruz snorted in contempt and brushed by them as they edged away.

Persua made a disgusted face and pinched at her nose as he passed by. But when one of the female mages glared at her, she shrank back as well. There was an unspoken difference in power between the Runners and the Adventurers, and once they realized the Horns of Hammerad had business with Ryoka, they decided to leave the inn quickly.

Garia gaped as the six adventurers stood in front of the table. They were all wearing armor, or robes of high-quality cloth. The two warriors standing behind Calruz wore shining chainmail, and the mages carried glowing staves and a wand that gave off ethereal fiery sparks.

That last bit was especially concerning to the innkeeper who nervously eyed the wand, but he didn’t make any vocal objections. The tall, mustached human warrior standing next to Calruz nodded at Ryoka and gave her a friendly smile.

“Ryoka Griffin? We’re part of the adventuring party, the Horns of Hammerad. You bailed us out of a tough situation last week. Do you mind if we sit?”

Ryoka stared up at the adventuring party. She didn’t appear overly impressed.

“You’re blocking my light.”

The vice-captain blinked. He exchanged glances with the other warrior while the mages frowned, but the Minotaur laughed.

“Hah! Spirited! It is good to see that in a Human at last!”

He stuck out a massive, gauntleted hand.

“I am Calruz of the Beriad. I lead the Horns of Hammerad, an adventuring party in these parts. I am in your debt, Ryoka Griffin. May we sit?”

Ryoka blinked in the face of this direct approach. She paused and then reluctantly nodded, shaking Calruz’s hand.

“Fine.”

Immediately, the Horns of Hammerad pulled up chairs and another table to sit next to Ryoka and Garia. Calruz had to sit perched in his chair which creaked ominously beneath him, but seemed happy enough.

Once all the adventurers were seated, a barmaid approached and they ordered drinks and food. Ryoka wasn’t hungry, and Garia, awestruck by the company, was too shy to eat.

In between the barmaids bustling around and delivering drinks and food, the vice-captain leaned forwards and addressed Ryoka.

“We owe you a debt of gratitude for that delivery you did for us a week ago. Without it, we’d all have been killed by that damned Lich. Thanks to you though, we managed to kill it and recover a lot of magical artifacts. Ceria’s got a new set of mage robes she owes all to you.”

One of the female mages nodded and gestured at her clothing. She was wearing a dark blue set of robes embroidered with glowing golden sigils around the hem and edges of the rich cloth.

It seemed foolish to bring such expensive clothing into an inn, but Ryoka noticed that when Calruz accidentally splattered the dress while reaching for a tankard, the liquid simply ran down the cloth and onto the ground. She was immediately impressed and wondered how much the magical cloth cost.

Garia looked around the table, wide-eyed.

“I just heard that Ryoka was doing a delivery to the Ruins. Was it that helpful?”

One of the warriors snorted.

“Delivery? Hah! She charged right past the Lich that had us pinned down and dropped the potions off right in the center of the battlefield! He was casting fireballs and lightning around her, but she even drew his fire as she left—gave us a chance to regroup!”

Ryoka shifted uncomfortably as Garia gaped at her. The problem with being in an inn was that other people were listening. Already she could tell patrons on the other tables were listening in on their conversation. She shrugged.

“Just doing my job.”

“Your job? No other Runner would have pulled off a feat like that. You saved our lives.”

She was having a hard time meeting the earnest vice-captain’s eyes. Ryoka shrugged and picked at her ham as he continued.

“Without the potions the best we could have hoped for would be a retreat where we didn’t lose too many of our party. In the worst-case scenario we’d have lost over half of our group and that’s if the Lich didn’t follow us.”

Calruz nodded.

“Instead, we managed to break that damn skeleton’s head in. The treasure we recovered more than made up for the expedition. And while the rest of our group is still healing from the battle, we’re here to repay the debt we owe.”

Ryoka raised her eyebrows. Minotaurs. Honor? They didn’t seem to go together, but either Calruz was an exception, or Minotaurs had quite a strong sense of right and wrong.

The vice-captain cleared his throat awkwardly.

“We expected to meet you again, since we heard you were a popular Runner around here. But when we heard about your injury, we decided to drop by.”

Garia looked surprised. It was a long way from the Ruins of Albez to Celum for someone who wasn’t a Runner.

“You came all the way here just to do that?”

Calruz nodded impatiently.

“Of course. What does distance matter? But let us introduce ourselves properly.”

He poked the female mage at his side and she jumped and glared at the Minotaur. The mage nodded to Ryoka and Garia. She was wearing a hat indoors which was presumably bad manners, but as she removed it they realized why.

Her ears were slightly pointed, and although she appeared human, this mage seemed subtly different from her companions. Ryoka noticed her skin was—rather than being paler, appeared subtly more vibrant. It was as if her body was simply realer and more vivid than the rest of the world. It was a slight thing, but grew more noticeable the longer Ryoka stared.

Her eyes tracked down to the young woman’s face. Again, her features were beautiful, but not simply aesthetically. They possessed another dimension she couldn’t explain that added to the exotic nature of the mage’s face. Ryoka saw that her eyes were pale yellow, but made no comment.

The mage stuck out one hand and Ryoka took it. She wasn’t an elf. But she wasn’t human either.

Half-elf.

“Ceria Springwalker.”

“…Ryoka Griffin.”

“I’m Garia Strongheart. Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

The rest of the company introduced themselves, but Ryoka was still thinking about Ceria. She shook hands mechanically, impassively nodding as the vice-captain expressed his admiration of how she’d saved them. She’d already forgotten his name.

“Enough of this.”

Calruz snapped impatiently as soon as the introductions were done. He pointed down towards Ryoka’s leg as it stuck out awkwardly.

“We didn’t come here to chat. We’re honor-bound to repay our debt, which is why we’re here. And you’re injured. How’d that happen?”

“Got run over by a cart.”

“What?”

The adventurers looked at Ryoka in frank disbelief.

“Getting run over by a cart I’d believe of normal people, but a Runner? I thought you lot were fast on your feet.”

Ryoka shrugged unhelpfully and stared at her plate. Uncertainly, Garia cleared her throat.

“It wasn’t—exactly an accident.”

She turned red as the Horns of Hammerad focused their attention on her. Calruz tapped a finger on the table.

“Explain, please.”

“Well, I don’t know how to say it, but Ryoka sort of broke an unspoken rule in the Runner’s Guild. She did this delivery and made a lot of folks mad—”

“—And they decided to run her over with a cart?”

The vice-captain stared incredulously at Garia.

“Are you serious?”

“Most of us didn’t know anything about it until it happened. But some of the Street Runners and City Runners – they’re part of a group that enforces the rules. I mean, they’re not real rules but we all obey them.”

Garia jumped as the mug in Calruz’s hand cracked and shattered in his grip. He angrily shoved the glass pieces aside and gritted his teeth.

“What pathetic, cowardly lot. I’d challenge them all to an honor duel in a moment if I had cause.”

calruz, it will not help your reputation to slaughter some runners 

Ceria shook her head as she put her hat back on.

“We don’t recognize duels under the law, and they’d run away if you looked at them sideways in any case. It sounds like there’s quite a lot of politics in the Runner’s Guild – and dangerous politics at that if this is what happens to people who disobey.”

The other adventurers murmured and grunted in disgust.

“Runners.”

“Money grubbing backstabbers.”

“Barely worth the coin we spend to hire them. And for the rates they charge, I could buy a new sword!”

Garia looked like she wanted to object to the insults, but she didn’t dare. Ryoka was interested.

“You don’t like Runners?”

One of the warriors shook his head.

“You we like. And your friend here doesn’t seem bad. But the rest of your lot are worthless pieces of waste as far as we’re concerned.”

“We’re not all bad.”

Garia protested weakly. The vice-captain and the mages shook their heads.

“You don’t understand, uh, Miss Garia was it? Most Runners don’t do deliveries to battlefields, and some of the ones that do only deliver after the battle ends. We could be in serious trouble, but your people won’t approach until all the monsters are gone. And even then, we have to pay triple—sometimes five times as much just for deliveries to areas we’ve already cleared.”

“Besides, Runners are only concerned about their pay, not anything else. They won’t stop to help even in emergencies unless we pay them. Even adventurers have more integrity than that.”

The Horns of Hammerad grumbled, but at least their ire wasn’t directed directly towards Garia and Ryoka. Ceria eyed the dispirited Garia and cleared her throat.

“That’s not to say all Runners are bad. I know a lot of you deliver goods quickly and for reasonable rates. It’s just that there are quite a few bad Runners in your Guilds, especially the ones that we have to deal with.”

She nodded at Ryoka.

“Case in point, your leg.”

Calruz snorted angrily as he grabbed another mug from a scared barmaid.

“This is intolerable. A good Runner shouldn’t be crippled. You. Mages. Can’t one of you lot heal her leg?”

Ceria eyed Ryoka’s leg as as the other mages shook their heads.

“None of us know advanced healing magic, Calruz. Besides, that looks like a complicated break.”

He grunted.

“So? What about a healing potion?”

The mages all made a face. The male mage holding the sparking wand shook his head.

“Oh, sure. If you want to fuse the bone back together that might work. But healing in that way is only good for quick fixes. I’ve seen fighters come back with bones attached the wrong way round, or off-center.”

“Is it just a broken bone?”

Ryoka shook her head and grimaced.

“Bone’s shattered. Splinters are in the flesh.”

All the people sitting at the table – and in earshot of the conversation – winced. Ceria however just nodded to herself and put a finger to her lips.

“I thought so. If they were trying to hurt you, they had to injure you badly enough that you wouldn’t be able to recover so easily.”

“Why don’t healing potions work? They fix people with stab wounds up in seconds. Why not bones?”

Ceria shrugged.

“Healing potions just accelerate the body’s natural healing. But this is far too complicated for a potion to fix. In situations like this, time or magic is the only solution.”

Ceria looked at Ryoka.

“What you need is a high-level [Healer]…no, better yet a [Cleric]. If there were any [Clerics] left alive, I mean. A [Healer] who also has a [Mage] class would be best.”

Garia looked confused. Ryoka was confused, but her expression didn’t change outwardly.

“What’s the difference? I thought they were both the same.”

Again, all the mages shook their heads. The female mage who owned the staff with the glowing orb whose name Ryoka had forgot answered.

“Most [Healers] just use herbs and minor spells to treat injuries. That’s fine, but if you want to heal this leg within the year, you need a real magic practiced by a mage. And a high-level one at that.”

“And how much would that cost?”

The female mage hesitated. Ceria looked glum as she answered for her.

“Something like that…that would cost at least a few hundred gold coins. And that’s only if you could find a high-level healer. And they’re very rare.”

Deathly silence fell over the table. Calruz was grimacing darkly, and the vice-captain reluctantly shook his head at him.

“Too bad.”

retcon, religious classes are pretty much unknown from what we see in the more modern chapters 

Ryoka pushed her chair back and stood up. She paused and winced as her bad foot touched the ground, but then began limping towards the stairwell. Garia, distressed, called out.

“Where are you going, Ryoka?”

The other girl didn’t look around.

“Sleep. I’m tired.”

Instantly, the vice-captain stood up.

“In that case allow me to help you up the stairs.”

Ryoka eyed the stairwell and looked back at him.

“I’ve got it.”

“I insist. Please, let me—”

“No.”

The vice-captain hesitated. He was looking from the steep stairwell to Ryoka’s splinted and bandaged leg. She set her jaw stubbornly.

“I don’t need help.”

“But—”

“Piss. Off.”

Ryoka brushed off his hands and began dragging herself up the stairs. She had a method for it; she walked backwards up the stairs so she didn’t have to move her bad leg more than necessary. It was awkward and cumbersome, but the look in her eyes dared anyone to give her a hand.

Crestfallen, the vice-captain returned to the table and sat down. The other warrior patted him on the back. Garia awkwardly apologized.

“Sorry. She’s just—unfriendly.”

“I like her.”

Everyone looked at Calruz. The Minotaur was watching Ryoka with approval as she swung herself up the stairs.

“She reminds me of females of my kind. Fiery. The ones who would stab any male that offends. Much better than the simpering human ones I keep meeting.”

He stood up. The vice-captain eyed him worriedly. Ceria leaned forwards and poked Calruz hard in the back.

“Calruz. I wouldn’t bother her. Human females aren’t like Minotaur females.”

He snorted dismissively.

“Bah. All that’s needed is courage and spirit to win her over.”

He knocked his chair back and walked over to the stairwell. The vice-captain looked like he wanted to say something, but lost the initiative. Calruz called over his shoulder.

“Don’t wait for me. I’ll find you at the Guild later.”

The remaining adventurers watched Calruz ascending the stairs and muttered amongst themselves.

“Should we stop him?”

“If we do, it’ll be a fight. You know what happens when he loses his temper.”

“Another destroyed inn? We’ll lose all the money we just earned!”

The vice-captain’s eyes narrowed. He drained his mug and stood up.

“This is unacceptable. I’m going up there.”

Ceria grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Calm down, Gerial.”

He glared at her.

“You’re letting him go? Are you mad?”

She shook her head.

“Calruz isn’t an idiot. He knows the law. He’ll go if he isn’t wanted, but that’s not what I meant. Ryoka Griffin can take care of herself. Or don’t you remember why we’re here?”

He hesitated, but then everyone downstairs heard Calruz’s unmistakable bass rumble. From downstairs, Garia could hear Ryoka’s annoyed voice. She hadn’t known Ryoka long, but Garia knew her well enough to guess what she was saying.

Garia started biting at her nails as Calruz’s voice rose and he made what sounded like an attempted joke. Ryoka snapped something but he kept talking.

this isnt going to go well 

Uncertainly, Garia stood up. None of the adventurers stopped her as she walked to the stairs and looked up. Both human and minotaur were standing outside her room, arguing. Well, Ryoka was arguing, while Calruz was…flirting.

Which was a mistake, Garia knew. She heard Ryoka’s voice as she snapped at Calruz.

“Get out.”

He said something in reply, and she pushed at him. Since he was wearing armor and outweighed her by at least two hundred pounds he didn’t move. Calruz captured Ryoka’s hand in his own. Garia saw Ryoka’s eyes narrow.

The patrons of the inn downstairs clearly heard the crack, and the bellow of pain from Calruz. From her position on the stairs, Garia saw and heard Ryoka punch the Minotaur in the face and then saw the Calruz’s form overbalance on the top of the stairs. She watched in slow motion as the massive figure of the Minotaur reeled back from the blow. He grabbed at the wall, but the wood splintered as it broke under his weight.

If. If Calruz hadn’t insisted on wearing plate armor. If Ryoka hadn’t hit him quite as hard. If the inn was newer and wasn’t so old. But there were no ifs. Calruz toppled down the stairs in a terrific crash of metal on wood, splintering the stairwell, and smashing the floorboards on the ground where he landed.

Everyone stared at the fallen Minotaur as he stared up at the ceiling. Half of the inn’s patrons were already making for the doors, while the other half waited for the ensuing bloodbath.

At the top of the stairs Ryoka raised her middle finger, flipped the prone Minotaur off, and then limped into her room. The door slammed behind her.

Calruz blinked up as the remaining pieces of the stairwell fell down around him and the innkeeper screamed in horror. He stared bemusedly up at Garia and the rest of his adventuring party. Then he grinned.

“Strong. I like her quite a lot.”

what else did you expect? 

aaaaaand thats the end! will the horns find ryoka a skilled enough healer? will perusa get her comupance? will garia eventually take the hint? 

see yall next post