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welllpthisishappening · 4 years ago

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Welllp These Are Books: the June 2021 Edition

I have read a lot of books this month. That should be stated upfront. Just an absolute metric ton of books. Some real good, some not-so good, some inadvertently hysterical. Also, I made that BINGO board. Because, like, you ever have a total crisis of writing-confidence and ignore that potential freakout and the tendency of your coworkers to miss deadlines by reading every free Amazon sports romance you can find? And several full YA series? In one month? No? My experiences are not universal, I understand. Anyway, there’s thoughts and opinions and spoilers under the cut. Everyone read the Once Upon a Con series, I’m begging you.

READ THIS SERIES! PLEASE! EVERY BOOK WAS SO CUTE! EVERYONE IN EVERY BOOK WAS SO CUTE! THE FANDOM STUFF DID NOT GIVE ME SECOND-HAND EMBARRASSMENT!

Geekerella by Ashley Poston Part romance, part love letter to nerd culture, and all totally adorbs, Geekerella is a fairy tale for anyone who believes in the magic of fandom. Geek girl Elle Wittimer lives and breathes Starfield, the classic sci-fi series she grew up watching with her late father. So when she sees a cosplay contest for a new Starfield movie, she has to enter. The prize? An invitation to the ExcelsiCon Cosplay Ball, and a meet-and-greet with the actor slated to play Federation Prince Carmindor in the reboot. With savings from her gig at the Magic Pumpkin food truck (and her dad’s old costume), Elle’s determined to win…unless her stepsisters get there first. Teen actor Darien Freeman used to live for cons—before he was famous. Now they’re nothing but autographs and awkward meet-and-greets. Playing Carmindor is all he’s ever wanted, but the Starfield fandom has written him off as just another dumb heartthrob. As ExcelsiCon draws near, Darien feels more and more like a fake—until he meets a girl who shows him otherwise.

The Princess and the Fangirl by Ashley Poston Imogen Lovelace is an ordinary fangirl on an impossible mission: to save her favorite Starfield character, Princess Amara, from being killed off. On the other hand, the actress who plays Amara wouldn’t mind being axed. Jessica Stone doesn’t even like being part of the Starfield franchise—and she’s desperate to leave the intense scrutiny of fandom behind. Though Imogen and Jess have nothing in common, they do look strangely similar to one another—and a case of mistaken identity at ExcelsiCon sets off a chain of events that will change both of their lives. When the script for the Starfield sequel leaks, with all signs pointing to Jess, she and Imogen must trade places to find the person responsible. The deal: Imogen will play Jess at her signings and panels, and Jess will help Imogen’s best friend run their booth. But as these “princesses” race to find the script leaker—in each other’s shoes—they’re up against more than they bargained for. From the darker side of fandom to unexpected crushes, Imogen and Jess must find a way to rescue themselves from their own expectations...and redefine what it means to live happily ever after.

Bookish and the Beast by Ashley Poston In this third book of the Once Upon a Con series, Rosie Thorne is feeling stuck—on her college application essays, in her small town, and on that mysterious General Sond cosplayer she met at ExcelsiCon. Most of all, she’s stuck in her grief over her mother’s death. Her only solace was her late mother’s library of rare Starfield novels, but even that disappeared when they sold it to pay off hospital bills. On the other hand, Vance Reigns has been Hollywood royalty for as long as he can remember—with all the privilege and scrutiny that entails. When a tabloid scandal catches up to him, he’s forced to hide out somewhere the paparazzi would never expect to find him: Small Town USA. At least there’s a library in the house. Too bad he doesn’t read. When Vance’s and Rosie’s paths collide, sparks do not fly. But as they begrudgingly get to know each other, their careful masks come off—and they may just find that there’s more risk in shutting each other out than in opening their hearts.

— I cannot possibly overstate what an absolute delight this series was. Cute and sweet and adorable. Like rot your teeth sweet with romances that my high-school self would have swooned over. (I would have been so in love with Darien Freeman as a 16 year old, it’s not even funny. Also, I would have been obsessed with Starfield.) Let’s be honest, my current self swooned quite a lot. Reading these books genuinely felt like a love letter to fandom. To the good and bad and trashy parts of it, and it made my heart swell thinking about these fictional kids and the community they found and how much they learned and then they FELL IN LOVE and, like, not to sound like an after-school special, but: THE REP IN THESE BOOKS?!?? HOLY S H I T. So good. So goddamn good. And not, like, shoved to the side. Like, Jess falls in love with a girl. And it gets its swoon-worthy moment as much as anyone else. Plus, bi-librarian dad who wears suspenders??? Sign. Me. Up. Twisting the fairy tales into the stories also worked really well in my opinion. Honestly my only gripe was that Darien found a cell phone number in the white pages, but, like, everything else was a joy. Please read these books. I promise they will make you smile.

IN WHICH I CAN NEVER TURN DOWN A BEAUTY AND THE BEAST ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

Cruel Beauty by Rosamund Hodge Betrothed to the evil ruler of her kingdom, Nyx has always known that her fate was to marry him, kill him, and free her people from his tyranny. But on her seventeenth birthday when she moves into his castle high on the kingdom's mountaintop, nothing is what she expected—particularly her charming and beguiling new husband. Nyx knows she must save her homeland at all costs, yet she can't resist the pull of her sworn enemy—who's gotten in her way by stealing her heart.

— Yo. YO. Everyone in this book was horrible! And it was wonderful! I figured out the twist approximately point two seconds after the potential for a twist was possibly introduced and it did not diminish my enjoyment of this book for one second. I am such a sucker for any Beauty and the Beast AU, but this was way different than anything I’d read before and Nyx was a blood-thirsty terror and I loved her. The magic and the world building was fascinating in that I really did not expect Greek gods and goddess, but it was also a welcome turn in a weird, huh, that’s interesting sort of way. And the banter was a-plus, top tier. Even when they were snarking at each other. Especially when they were snarking at each other. (Still a pretty quick turn from enemies to lovers, but I’m willing to overlook that based almost solely on the snark.) Plus, the castle was fascinating. And there were more twists aside from the main twist, none of which I figured out. All of which I gasped over. The end was like—chef’s kiss, fantastic. I would like a novel-length sequel to tell me how everything worked out.

...BUT THE LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD ONE WASN’T AS GOOD

Crimson Bound by Rosamund Hodge When Rachelle was fifteen she was good—apprenticed to her aunt and in training to protect her village from dark magic. But she was also reckless—straying from the forest path in search of a way to free her world from the threat of eternal darkness. After an illicit meeting goes dreadfully wrong, Rachelle is forced to make a terrible choice that binds her to the very evil she had hoped to defeat.Three years later, Rachelle has given her life to serving the realm, fighting deadly creatures in a vain effort to atone. When the king orders her to guard his son Armand—the man she hates most—Rachelle forces Armand to help her hunt for the legendary sword that might save their world. Together, they navigate the opulent world of the courtly elite, where beauty and power reign and no one can be trusted. And as the two become unexpected allies, they discover far-reaching conspiracies, hidden magic . . . and a love that may be their undoing. Within a palace built on unbelievable wealth and dangerous secrets, can Rachelle discover the truth and stop the fall of endless night?

— As much as I loved Cruel Beauty, I was like ehhhh on this one. Which is part Little Red Riding Hood (although that seems like a stretch, honestly) and part The Girl With No Hands, which is a fairy tale I have literally never heard of before. Rachelle was just—sorta whiny? Which, y’know, she was cursed and had fucked up her entire life, so fair, but also...annoying. I kept reading mostly to try and understand what the FUCK was going on with the magic. I like to consider myself a relatively intelligent person who can understand most YA novels, but this one was tough to keep track of. Like, sure, the imagery of the Dark Forest was cool, but also what is a Gladspring? I’m still not sure I know. Also, this kind of dragged in some places. Lots of patrolling the palace (whining about life) and not enough magic-fighting or establishing any sort of relationship between Rachelle and Armand. Which just sort of happened? Amidst, approximately, twenty-four different twists that were admittedly cool, but also felt like they came out of nowhere. Everything that happened in Cruel Beauty made sense. Most of what happened here felt like it was shoehorned in for shock value.

YOU WANT MORAL AMBIGUITY? BOY HAVE I GOT MORAL AMBIGUITY FOR YOU. IN GODDAMN SPADES.

The Firebird Series by Claudia Gray Marguerite Caine's physicist parents are known for their groundbreaking achievements. Their most astonishing invention, called the Firebird, allows users to jump into multiple universes—and promises to revolutionize science forever. But then Marguerite's father is murdered, and the killer—her parent's handsome, enigmatic assistant Paul— escapes into another dimension before the law can touch him.Marguerite refuses to let the man who destroyed her family go free. So she races after Paul through different universes, always leaping into another version of herself. But she also meets alternate versions of the people she knows—including Paul, whose life entangles with hers in increasingly familiar ways. Before long she begins to question Paul's guilt—as well as her own heart. And soon she discovers the truth behind her father's death is far more sinister than she expected.

— Guys. GUYS. These books, oh my G O D. Little known fact about me, but I am trash for cross-dimensional soulmates. The concept of “we’ll find each other anywhere” is one of my favorites, so I was so psyched about these books. And for awhile that’s what I thought I was going to get out of them. But. BUT! What I actually got was something, not totally different, but not entirely great, either. The problem here was that when anyone used one of the Firebird devices to jump dimensions they TOOK OVER THE BODY THEY JUMPED INTO. So, like, that consciousness got shoved to the side while whatever prime!person just took over. Living that body’s life. In a different dimension. And that’s kinda fucked up, right??? Brings in all sorts of questions about consent and morality and let me tell you, guys, this YA series DID NOT ADDRESS A SINGLE ONE OF THEM. Which is also super fucked up!! So, like, Marguerite is just bouncing around dimensions taking over people’s bodies and lives and leaving this, frankly, trail of destruction in her wake. And as if that wasn’t enough!!! In the second book Paul’s soul gets, like, split and she’s got to round up the pieces through dimensions, meeting all sorts of Pauls who are occasionally kind of shit people and he eventually just, like, CANNOT COPE. Seriously, I could not stop reading these. Partially for the moral ambiguity. Partially because I could not figure out why Paul loved Marguerite. Also, capitalism was the ultimate villain. AS IT SHOULD BE, REALLY.

CREEPY FAE WERE KIND OF CREEPY AND THAT’S NOT BAD, BUT LIKE MAYBE THIS WASN’T A GOOD BOOK?

An Enchantment of Ravens by Margaret Rogerson Isobel is an artistic prodigy with a dangerous set of clients: the sinister fair folk, immortal creatures who cannot bake bread or put a pen to paper without crumbling to dust. They crave human Craft with a terrible thirst, and Isobel’s paintings are highly prized. But when she receives her first royal patron—Rook, the autumn prince—she makes a terrible mistake. She paints mortal sorrow in his eyes—a weakness that could cost him his life. Furious, Rook spirits her away to his kingdom to stand trial for her crime. But something is seriously wrong in his world, and they are attacked from every side. With Isobel and Rook depending on each other for survival, their alliance blossoms into trust, then love—and that love violates the fair folks’ ruthless laws. Now both of their lives are forfeit, unless Isobel can use her skill as an artist to fight the fairy courts. Because secretly, her Craft represents a threat the fair folk have never faced in all the millennia of their unchanging lives: for the first time, her portraits have the power to make them feel.

— I’ve seen this book mentioned a lot. As good. And it wasn’t not good, but Isobel was pretty goddamn annoying and kind of dumb and a little self-important and I was mostly here for the creepy fae. That was fun. More fae should have antlers and stuff. Everything in this story happened ridiculously fast. I couldn’t believe it was over when it was over.

THE PROSE WAS VERY PRETTY. I’M NOT SURE WHY THE DRAGON HAD TO BE SUCH A MONUMENTAL DICK.

Uprooted by Naomi Novik Agnieszka loves her valley home, her quiet village, the forests and the bright shining river. But the corrupted Wood stands on the border, full of malevolent power, and its shadow lies over her life. Her people rely on the cold, driven wizard known only as the Dragon to keep its powers at bay. But he demands a terrible price for his help: one young woman handed over to serve him for ten years, a fate almost as terrible as falling to the Wood. The next choosing is fast approaching, and Agnieszka is afraid. She knows—everyone knows—that the Dragon will take Kasia: beautiful, graceful, brave Kasia, all the things Agnieszka isn’t, and her dearest friend in the world. And there is no way to save her. But Agnieszka fears the wrong things. For when the Dragon comes, it is not Kasia he will choose.

— Let me just say first off, that this should have been two books. Everything happened so quickly, I swear I got whiplash. That being said, as a heroine, I liked Agnieszka a lot. She was understandably freaked by everything that happened, but once she kind of settled, she didn’t take The Dragon’s shit and that was good because The Dragon was kind of shitty. This is why it should have been two books. Because everything The Dragon did felt like it needed some kind of explanation. Or at least some sort of reasoning for why he was such a monumental bastard. Which is why I was a little confused that Agnieszka was in love with him? He was such a dick, honestly. The last third or so of this book was the best because Novik really does know how to write action and the magic itself was pretty fascinating. (I wish it went into more depth, but I think I’m spoiled by fic and that’s not actually how the publishing world works.) Kasia might have been the most interesting person in this story. Girl went through it and just became a total badass. I loved her.

MARAUDER FEELINGS! MARAUDER FEELINGS! SO! MANY! MARAUDER! FEELINGS!

The Raven King by Maggie Stiefvater All her life, Blue has been warned that she will cause her true love's death. She doesn't believe in true love and never thought this would be a problem, but as her life becomes caught up in the strange and sinister world of the Raven Boys, she's not so sure anymore.

— RICHARD GANSEY, MY BELOVED. What a dweeb. A self-sacrificing, sorta sad dweeb. When he wrapped his jacket around Blue, my heart exploded. I think I spent the last fifteen or so chapters with disconcertingly wide eyes and possibly my hand over my mouth. Still not entirely sure why a Welsh king was in Virginia, but I loved it. Was real glad he was there. As promised by that one book rec list I read months ago, the Marauders vibes of these books were off the charts. It was a weird story with lots of weird things and I hope Mr. Grey gets to be happy one day and that Ronan and Adam make out some more eventually. I think they’ll both feel a lot better if they do. Like, about the world as a whole. Has anyone read the Ronan spinoff series? Should I read the Ronan spinoff series?

OK, THIS WASN’T THAT BAD, ACTUALLY

To Love Jason Thorn by Ella Maise Jason Thorn... My brother's childhood friend. Oh, how stupidly in love with that boy I was. He was the first boy that made me blush, my first official crush. Sounds beautiful so far, right? That excitement that bubbles up inside you, those famous butterflies you feel for the very first time--he was the reason for them all. But, you only get to live in that fairytale world until they crush your hopes and dreams and then stomp on your heart for good measure. And boy did he crush my little heart into pieces. After the stomping part he became the boy I did my best to stay away from--and let me tell you, it was pretty hard to do when he slept in the room right across from mine. When tragedy struck his family and they moved away, I was ready to forget he ever existed. Now he is a movie star, the one who makes women of all ages go into a screaming frenzy, the one who makes everyone swoon with that dimpled smile of his. Do you think that's dreamy? I certainly don't think so. How about me coming face to face with him? Nope still not dreamy. Not when I can't even manage to look him in the eye. Me? I'm Olive, a new writer. Actually, I'm THE writer of the book that inspired the movie he is about to star in on the big screen. As of late, I am also referred to as the oh-so-very-lucky girl who is about to become the wife of Jason Thorn. Maybe you're thinking yet again that this is all so dreamy? Nope, nothing dreamy going on here. Not even close.

— Ignoring the fact that this was almost blatant self-insert, this was a mostly good, occasionally trashy book with brother’s best friend and the one who got away tropes. Which, as we know, are my life’s blood. (Plus, surprise, fake marriage that isn’t really fake?!? Ok. OK!) My only eeek moment was when Olive got super drunk and wanted Jason to like—consummate the marriage and he was like, No Olive, you’re drunk. And then they ended up doing everything except having full-on sex, which felt a little creep and a lot sketch and then it was never mentioned again. Also, Olive needs to find some better friends, God.

EMERSON COD VOICE: HE’S STAAAAAALKING YOU

Marriage For One by Ella Maise Jack and I, we did everything backward. The day he lured me into his office-which was also the first day we met-he proposed. You'd think a guy who looked like him-a bit cold maybe, but still striking and very unattainable-would only ask the love of his life to marry him, right? You'd think he must be madly in love. Nope. It was me he asked. A complete stranger who had never even heard of him. A stranger who had been dumped by her fiancé only weeks before. You'd think I'd laugh in his face, call him insane-and a few other names-then walk away as quickly as possible. Well…I did all those things except the walking away part. It took him only minutes to talk me into a business deal…erm, I mean marriage, and only days for us to officially tie the knot. Happiest day of my life. Magical. Pop the champagne… Not. It was the worst day. Jack Hawthorne was nothing like what I'd imagined for myself. I blamed him for my lapse in judgment. I blamed his eyes, the ocean blue eyes that looked straight into mine unapologetically, and that frown on his face I had no idea I would become so fascinated with in time. It wasn't long after he said I was the biggest mistake of his life that things started to change. No, he still didn't talk much, but anyone can string a few words together. His actions spoke the loudest to me. And day after day my heart started to get a mind of its own.

— Ok, ok, ok, so I enjoyed the Jason Thorn book, right? Was, like, how bad could this other book be? And it wasn’t bad, but it was patently ridiculous. Let me explain what happened. Not entirely sorry for the spoilers. Jack the lawyer sees that Rose is only going to get the space for her coffee shop from her uncle’s will if she marries someone. She WAS engaged, but the guy split. For reasons no one can understand, especially Rose. She’s sad. She’s spent so much money on espresso machines! Enter Jack the lawyer who one random afternoon is like: HEY ROSE, YOU’RE MOSTLY A STRANGER, BUT I ALSO NEED TO GET MARRIED FOR REASONS I’LL ONLY SORTA EXPLAIN, LETS DO THAT. So they do???? And Jack the lawyer continues to be kinda weird and a little shady, but Rose has got the coffee shop and things are going well. Until! She’s got a leaky brain!!! That’s not a joke. Not a typo. Out of goddamn LEFT FIELD, Rose has got some horrible medical condition, so thank God she got married because Jack the lawyer’s got great health insurance. (this is ROMANTIC) and she’s got to have an operation and he stays with her and sleeps in the hospital chair and her coffee shop is somehow still going strong??? On Madison Avenue??? What sit-down coffee shop on Madison Avenue do you guys know that would succeed? None because it’s not downtown. I digress. Anyway, Rose makes a miraculous recovery, she and Jack the lawyer are now almost in love? At least having a shit ton of sex. They’re mostly happily married. Until, part two! The ex-fiance shows up and is like JACK THE LAWYER PAID ME TO BREAK UP WITH YOU. To which Rose is understandably flabbergasted. She confronts Jack the lawyer who fesses that he’s been seriously crushing on her since they met at her uncle’s Christmas party. She doesn’t remember this. He does. BECAUSE HE’S A STALKER. So, he knew about the will stipulation with marriage BACK THEN, which is why he used FIRM RESOURCES to investigate the ex-fiance and found out he was a con man, using Rose with plans to basically steal all her money. This infuriated Jack the lawyer because he thought Rose deserved better and then proceeded to basically con her himself, just in a different way. With marriage! He told her he needed to get married to show he was a family man to make partner. THAT WAS A LIE. He didn’t need it at all. He just—wanted to marry her??? To help her??? What a psycho. She leaves. He continues to lurk outside the coffee shop. They make up. No one mentions the stalking. The end.

I KEEP GIVING HELENA SECOND CHANCES AND SHE KEEPS...NOT DESERVING THEM

All In Series by Helena Hunting Sometimes I need an escape from the demands, the puck bunnies, and the notoriety that come with being an NHL team captain. I just want to be a normal guy for a few weeks. So when I leave Chicago for some peace and quiet, the last thing I expect is for a gorgeous woman to literally fall into my lap on a flight to Alaska. Even better, she has absolutely no idea who I am.Lainey is the perfect escape from my life. My plan for seclusion becomes a monthlong sex fest punctuated with domestic bliss. But it ends just as abruptly as it began. When I’m called away on a family emergency, I realize too late that I have no way to contact Lainey.A year later, a chance encounter throws Lainey and me together again. But I still have a lie hanging over my head, and Lainey’s keeping secrets of her own. With more than lust at stake, the truth may be our game changer.

— Last year I read a hockey romance by Helena Hunting that was very cute and traditionally published and she’s got a bunch more free Amazon books that, for some reason, I keep downloading and reading and they continue to be absolutely ridiculous. That first one was a not-so-secret accidental pregnancy (as previously discussed ONE TIME without a condom mention and bam pregnant) but the second one with Rook’s sister was actually pretty cute. I’m not sure why they all called him Rook. Almost all these series have at least one book with someone recovering from an injury and they inevitably fall in love with their physical therapist. So, that one was pretty ok. None of these, however, were quite as entertaining as (wait for it) QUEENIE AND KINGSTON. WHOSE FRIENDS AND TEAMMATES ALL CALL HIM KING. QUEENIE. AND. KING. Gag. I read it anyway. At least 99% of that decision was based solely on the fact that the story started just after King found out his sister was actually his mom. How am I supposed to stop reading THAT?!? I ask you. Highlights of Queenie and King’s romance included: him calling his mom/sister MOMSTER, Queenie being secretly married this whole time, WITHOUT KNOWING IT, his strawberry allergy that flared up because she’d had a strawberry milkshake and then GAVE HIM A BLOWJOB, her dad finding out they were dating because he was the GM of the team and saw that his starting goalie was having a MASSIVE allergic reaction, Queenie’s eventual ex-husband getting engaged to someone who previously tried to self-inseminate to trap Rook into a relationship (I am not making this up, I swear) and then when he found out that his fiancee’s kid wasn’t actually his, he got into a massive fight and earned a 20-game suspension. THAT’S A QUARTER OF AN NHL SEASON. Tom Wilson got fined five thousand dollars for practically killing Artemi Panarin on the ice! I did not read the last book in this series because it was MORE ACCIDENTAL PREGNANCY and because it was Queenie’s dad and King’s mom and that meant they’d share a sibling. Which is where I draw the line, guys.

THERE WERE SEVEN BOOKS IN THIS SERIES! EVERY SINGLE ONE HAD TO HAVE A SCENE WHERE THE DUDE UNDERSTOOD THAT PERIODS WERE A THING???? LIKE THAT WAS IMPRESSIVE SOMEHOW?!?!

Hot Jocks Series by Kendall Ryan I've never been so stupid in my entire life. My teammate's incredibly sweet and gorgeous younger sister should have been off-limits, but my hockey stick didn't get that memo. After our team won the championship, and plenty of alcohol, our flirting turned physical and I took her to bed. Shame sent her running the next morning from our catastrophic mistake. She thinks I don't remember that night—but every detail is burned into my brain so deeply, I’ll never forget. The feel of her in my arms, the soft whimpers of pleasure I coaxed from her perfect lips…And now I’ve spent three months trying to get her out of my head. Which has been futile, because I’m starting to understand she’s the only girl I’ll ever want. I have one shot to show her I can be exactly what she needs, but Elise won’t be easily convinced. That’s okay, because I’m good under pressure, and this time, I’m playing for keeps.

—I read all of these. All. Of. Them. They were exceptionally quick reads. Every single one had a copious amount of sex in it and a very weird, apparently required scene, where the dude had to be like I’M NOT SQUICKED OUT BY PERIODS AM I NOT THE ULTIMATE EXAMPLE OF MASCULINITY?? My favorite one was Grant and Ana’s, though, because it was so goddamn absurd I cannot believe someone wrote it. Basic gist was that Ana was dating someone on Grant’s team (he’s the captain, natch) but the guy was a dick and abusive and so one night Ana decides to leave, but she needs someone to help her and WHO DOES SHE TURN TO??? That’s right, reclusive captain Grant. Who’s spent the last few years watching his teammates marry-up and start families and he’s so jealous, but he can’t say anything because he’s a stoic MAN™. So he takes Ana and her dog (of course she’s got a dog) back to his super swanky bachelor pad and she just sort of...stays there? Video of the boyfriend accosting her at her job gets leaked and the boyfriend gets sent to the AHL which is not really how it would work, but fine. Naturally, Grant and Ana hook up. It’s emotional. Vaguely romantic. There’s no GODDAMN CONDOM. So, she gets pregnant. But, of course. Except! She doesn’t know if it’s dick boyfriend’s or Grant’s. Because he’s the male lead in a free sports romance on Amazon, Grant is the MOST understanding. He wants to help Ana. He would like to continue having sex with Ana. This is ready-made happily ever after. Only Ana’s like...eh?? She doesn’t want it to look like she bounced from one hockey player to the next, but also she sorta did and she kept telling Grant she just wanted to be friends, only to have sex, like, three chapters later. Then she just moved out! Just moved out. Seven months pregnant. Moving out. With her dog. Of course, this is a free sports romance on Amazon, so eventually she moved back in with Grant. Once she realized independence wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. And because he left practice to be there when she had the baby. Oh! And she got a DNA test after. To see whose kid it was. Grant ripped that ‘ish up. Just ripped it up. Which is cool, I guess. But, like, you didn’t want to double check? What if that kid has to go to the hospital? Did she put Grant’s name on the birth certificate? What are his parental rights?? Anyway, they’re all set to live HEA when....THE DICK BOYFRIEND DIES. Straight up. No explanation. Nothing. Just Grant tells Ana he’s dead, she’s like, oh wow that’s sad, they send some flowers to the funeral and that’s THAT. I assume this was to close any potential plot holes on the father of this baby, but it was hysterical and I cannot stop thinking about it. Strangely enough, the one where the couple made a secret sex tape in college and then got back together because it got released may have been the healthiest relationship in this series.

#book recs #book rec #book reccs #laura reads books #welllp these are books #i will not apologize for that bingo board #i think this is a highlight of accomplishments #like for me personally

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ktheist · 5 years ago

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thirteen.

chapters: 12 / 13 / 14

knight!jungkook x princess!reader

It’s a silent exchange.

The young guard does not say a word when he bows and unlocks the door to your knight’s sell. You nod in acknowledgement despite knowing his head is kept too low to see it, hand outstretched for the bags of shillings. It’s an established routine at this point.

“Can you smell the roses?” His back is on you, facing the minute window just inches from the ceiling, as though he could see what was beyond the pitch black of the night and the patches of grey in the scar.

The journey to the tower is lonelier than usual. The moon smiles behind dark clouds but the stars bear witness to your nightly schemes. Somewhere along the way, you pass the garden. Indeed, the roses are in full bloom.

“They’re not as pretty as the ones back home,” you set the basket of bread on the wooden bed, joining him on the ground.

He shrugs, a wistful smile on his lips as you wonder if he remembers what home is as the memory fades away for you with each passing day. That’s not to say you have more time to admire the gardens at home than you do here. A different kind of affair occupies your time. You’ve set foot in the village a few days ago; that’s more freedom you get than you first arrived.

The villagers were... tolerable for the most part. You don’t expect to run around in a circle with the maidens and sing hymns of peace when the aftermath of the war is still a fresh wound to most of them. Losing your face with a rotten tomato and eggs in your hair is something not too far off your imagination when you decide to step out of the castle’s gates.

“I heard she offered herself to the prince once she realized she’s losing. And now, she’s pregnant with Prince Taehyung’s heir. That’s the only reason for the royal marriage.”

“So it’s true. Didn’t her mother, the current Queen of her kingdom, come from a lowly noble family who enchanted her way into the King’s heart?”

That was when you heard a crack! against the back of your head.

“Go back to where you come from, whore!”

“Murderer! My brother died in the war because of you!”

“You will never be our Queen!”

The onslaught of rotten food being thrown at you only increased from then. Your face was bruise-free but you couldn’t say the same for your arms that you used to shield your face. The evening stroll turned to a run when you had to rush away from the town, having chosen to go by foot instead of a carriage that you could have escaped into.

“Who did this?” Taehyung’s heated demand reverberates against the walls of the dining hall when you showed up to dinner with a scarf around your head because Eunha was shaking while she washed your hair in fear for losing her job if she didn’t finish in time; she didn’t but you promised she was your maid and the only one who can fire her was you which you’d never do over uncleaned hair. He easily put two and two together having been the prince and someone who likes to stick his nose where he shouldn’t,“who dares commit a crime against the royal family?”

“Oh, sit down, son.” You were sure the Queen rolled her eyes at her son’s dramatic exclamation before feeding a piece of well-sliced steak into her mouth.

Taehyung’s reaction took you off guard but it’s easy to brush it off as an act of pride. Those who dared insult the Princess insulted the royal family as a whole. Not paying much heed to his extended inquiries in the bedroom, you disregarded his presence with a short, “it’s been a long day, your highness. I shall have my hot bath and rest.”

Your maid had picked up where she left off with your hair. It wasn’t too much work so she proceeded to massage your shoulders while you almost fell asleep in the tub.

By the time you thanked Eunha for her effort (to which she hurriedly credited it to her line of work), Taehyung was snoring softly beneath the sheets. He’s been getting better at doing whatever he wanted since Jungkook’s absence. You held your breath as the flickering candle that colored part of his unclothed chest a golden tan when you went to blow it off next to him.

It was a risk but you hadn’t seen Jungkook for five days, thus you deemed it a risk worth taking as you tip toed out of your chamber, cloaked in a black robe that assists you more than once to blend in with the shadows when you come across with the patrols.

Jungkook inhales the baked goods with zeal. Perhaps, this was the closest he’s been as a commoner if he hadn’t lead a vengeful life.

He brings a piece to your mouth, thumb lingering on your bottom lip a tad longer before his gaze makes you hot and shy all at once.

“Have you been trying to burn the royal kitchen?” He smirks, revealing the egg shell he picked from your hair.

“I went to the village nearest to the castle,” you swipe the shell piece off his hands and throw it behind you, “which is safer than trying to cook, thank you for worrying about the kitchen.”

“Doesn’t explain why you have egg shell in your hair,” he sets the bread on top of the mountain of pastries in the basket, shifting so his upper body is facing you.

You stay quiet, smiling at him somberly. It would do no good to burden him with the knowledge of the people - now, your people - and how they welcomed you but if you lied, he could see through it.

“They threw eggs at you,” his words are laced with a sort of venom that you’re no stranger to, if anything it reminds you of home, how within the walls of the castle you grew up in, Jungkook had sworn to protect but most of all, to kill those who dared came in your way.

“I’m not hurt,” you clarify as he cups your cheeks in inspection, “it’s my favorite dress being ruined that puts a bump on the evening.”

At that, Jungkook finally relents. Hands dropped onto your lap, caressing yours, he comments on your interest in dresses and the newfound information that you have a favorite.

“Besides the concerns of the citizens that Lord Park allowed me handle, there’s not much to do besides admiring the types of lace on a dress.”

Rueful silence hangs in the air for half a minute before Jungkook speaks again, “at least the crown treats you fairly well.”

“The crown is kind because I am of use to it,” you’re aware that your voice is shaking but you keep your gaze firm.

This silence is different yet telling. The kind of silence that doesn’t need you begging for a change, for an escape. You’ve known then and you know now but there’s a part of you, one that longs for freedom and a life without the chains of the blue in your blood.

Jungkook is the first to break eye contact this time. Those eyes that have always looked straight at you, peeled the deepest layer of you, has turned away from you. It doesn’t show - you make sure the hurt doesn’t show across your face.

“It is a duty to borne by every Queen,” he slowly speaks as if it isn’t a cruel expectation set by your predecessors.

“Is that all women are good for?” Oh, no. This isn’t good. The first tear wets your left cheek before another falls on the other, “to... to...”

The words gets choked in your throat. Just like the night you watched the flicker of flames licking the houses of the villagers, you try to push him away until you tire yourself. Jungkook’s arms are strong yet gentle as ever.

He holds you closest tonight and touches you softly. But his words are sparse. Jungkook never showers you with sugar coated words just to ease your heart. He says it for what it is or not at all for you are no fool and you of all people know what morning has in store.

“Your highness!” Eunha burst into the room with a couple of maids trailing behind her. They’re carrying trays of your breakfast.

When she saw Yerin, your recently appointed lady-in-waiting, was doing your hair, her head drops almost instantly as though coming face-to-face with her was a great sin. Yerin is part of the higher noble family. At some point, you heard from your resourceful maid, that she was to be paired with Taehyung who is now your husband. To serve the woman who she must have seen stolen her place was one thing, but you were understood that her father, a high ranking officer, had been maimed from the war and the family income had gone to treating his injury. That was why she volunteered to be a lady-in-waiting.

Naturally, she wouldn’t like Eunha or any commoner worker that acted familiar with you, the enemy-princess-turned-wife to the Prince. You dismiss Yerin as soon as she’s done with your hair, telling her that you would be in the office the King set up for your personal affair as you were more involved with the affairs of the kingdom, so you wouldn’t need the usual over-the-top royalty appearance.

“Your highness, have you heard?” Eunha is by your side in no time along with the other two maids.

You take a sip of the tea. It’s catered precisely to your liking. Sweet but not overly sweet.

“Certainly, I haven’t.”

“Prince Taehyung sent guards to the village. They carried away those suspected of disrespecting you yesterday!” She clasps her hand to her chest as she stares at you with stars in her eyes.

“Does he intend to punish them?” You set the teacup back on its causer with a sharp click that seems to have resonated through the maids’ growing gushes.

The breakfast remains untouched when you get up from the gold-encrusted armchair. You barely remember the maids leaping to their feet and dipping into a bow as you exit through the door.

You intersect Taehyung at the fountain. He waves his personal knight off as you approach, the conversation before you arrive too low for you to catch.

“To what do I owe this honor to/.” he acknowledges but without the smirk. You’ve seen glimpses of this side of him, mostly when he chooses to disregard your presence or have a more important matter to attend to.

“The commoners you had the guards force out of their homes,” the voice you use is smooth but the tightness of your face is not concealable, “what do you plan to do to them?”

“Do you not have your own work to do?” He’s referring to the concerns of the citizens. It was part of the Queen’s duties to listen to them but Lord Park had managed to convince the King to delegate some of the work to you.

If the Queen felt threatened by your taking over some of her work, she didn’t show. The curt dismissive tone she used to make her son shut up could mean anything. She might have truly felt irritated over the fuss made by her son over you.

“It couldn’t be that you missed me so much that you came all the way here just to see me,” there it is. The smirk. The silence you choose over entertaining his retort has invited another one, “I heard you spent the night at one of the maid’s rooms last night. You can’t run forever.”

At that, something stirs deep inside of you but you don’t allow your face to display more than what is already in the open. That doesn’t mean you don’t, all of a sudden, want to slap that smirk off his face.

“I don’t know what you are planning, your highness but the cruelty you show towards your people will not be beneficial for you,” his lips twitch but that’s it, so you go on, “keep in mind that Lord Min, your cousin has a claim over the throne. I pray that no revolt rises to roll you over. It will be an inconvenience for me.”

The last part is the truest. If he is ruined, if the people has had enough and knew of the recluse cousin of the Crown Prince and a chance for a kinder monarch, then you’d be ruined too.

“I shall take my leave, your highness.” You brush past his speechless figure. Whether the guards or maids who were around chooses to relay the lack of court etiquette displayed to the Prince, you have no control over it. But after the complete drop of the Prince’s smirk, you’re sure that you’ve gained what you came here to do.

Tonight, it’s safe for you sneak out of your chambers, hood cloaked around your body and a maid’s outfit underneath. Eunha had willingly lend it to you when you told her that you wished to step out of the palace’s walls without having eggs thrown at you. Or at least without anyone realizing the pearls and diamonds hanging off your dress screamed royalty.

...or so you thought.

Your body turns to ice at the figure standing in front of you. Unlike you, he didn’t look like he was caught red-handed though the wide eyes tells you he is surprised.

“You -”

His long strides takes him to you faster than you manage to get out any words past that. With a hand cupped on your mouth, he pulls you into a corridor and presses himself into the shadow. The only part of you that is visible is your ankle which you have no other space to squeeze it with the way the light slants across the tiny space.

The sound of footsteps causes you to involuntarily clutch his sleeve until they’re gone. You breathe out in relief only to have the goosebumps return at the sharp, accusing look peering down at you. With only the light from the flames burning behind you, the tug on his lips appear more sinister than it should.

“Look who lost her way.”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #bts fic #networkbangtan #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #jungkook fic #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #knight!jungkook #princess!reader

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the-omni-princess · 5 years ago

Text

Blood Bound [Chapter Six]

Author: @the-omni-princess

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky x Witch!Reader

Summary: Vampires and witches have been known enemies since the dark ages. Backstabbing, secrets, and magic turned supernatural brethren again each other. As a natural-born witch, you grew up on these stories, your own monsters under your bed. What happens when one of those sworn enemies claims that you are his blood mate, the vampire equivalent of a true mate? Will you give in to this man out of time? Or destroy him for the sake of your Coven?

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: fluff, angst, first time meetings, minor character death, minor injuries, near death, vampire stuff, blood, sacrifices, cursing, mature talk, sex talk (I think this is all the warnings if I missed something please let me know)

A/N:

Also, how do people like the “previously on” bit? Should I just erase it? Stop using it? (I don’t use the previously for word counts)

Also, AHHHHH my fav chapter so far, finally enough build-up TO DO SOEMTHIGN

[Series Masterlist] [My Masterlist] [Playlist Inspired by the Series]

----

Previously…

“Holy shit, I died in the Salem Witch Trials,” your voice rang out throughout the room. Bucky squeezed your hands gently, and you let him act as your tether to the mortal whelm. “We were killed by the very Council that had sworn to protect all witches, and you were saved by the vampires we were told by them to fear.”

“Well, this is just getting deeper and deeper. Before you know it, you’ll be telling me the Coven to the North died because they found out the Council has been killing Naturals.” Tony quipped from the side of the room.

The room froze, taking in the statement. “Well, it would explain a lot,” you murmured. “They were getting powerful, and dominant witches who don’t need as much energy to have magic aren’t easy to control.” That was the last connecting dot. The darkness in the distance wasn’t just some mythical monster. It was the very same man that stood in your living room and drank your tea just an hour ago.

“But all of that leads to the question of, where are Nebula and Gamora? Their bodies weren’t found with the Mountain Coven.” Maria rubbed behind Sasha’s ears, enjoying the cat’s insistent purring as she curled up on her lap.

“Mountains… Oh shit, if the Council is going to start investigating the Mountains, I need to warn Steve and Sam. Our hotel is right at the base of the mountains, the Council will blame us first.” Bucky’s grip on your hand faltered, nervously tapping his foot.

“That’s less than an hour away right? Go, bring them here.” It was a simple solution, and yet you had multiple people against it.

“We are not housing the bloodsuckers, y/n. No damn way.” Carol stood, puffing up her chest. It was most likely unconscious, as she tried to assert dominance, but you weren’t buying that.

“Listen, you trust me, I trust Bucky, Bucky trusts these two. The Council will murder them for even being in the vicinity of the Coven’s murders. Please, we have to. They’re his family.” Your hands started to spark, your emotions rising as you tried to plead with your sisters.

Most of them were not going to be happy about housing vampires, so you tried one last thing. “We have to be different than the Council.” That had Wanda and Maria turning away, Maria focusing solely on the cat, and Wanda finding the book she held open very interesting. Natasha and Pepper both were proud of you standing up for your Blood Mate, though the later still thought you were insane.

Carol had calmed down, enough that she saw your hands sparking, to which Bucky had no issue with. The usual burning sparks didn’t affect him as he gladly held onto you. That wasn’t supposed to happen. But at this point, it was going to join a long list of ‘things that were supposed to be impossible,’ right under reincarnation. She sighed softly, running her hand through her short hair before placing both hands in her overall pockets. “Fine. But I still don’t trust them.” She warned, narrowing her eyes at him.

Despite the literal death looks, Bucky beamed a goofy smile, elated to earn the, though hesitant, trust of your Coven. Looking up at him, your heart melted. Seeing his crystal clue eyes sparkle as he smiled made you wonder why the Council even started to hate Vampires in the first place. “Go. I’ll be here, waiting.”

“I’ll be just a minute. Promise, Sweetling,” he grinned, a peak of his fangs showing in his smile as he leaned slightly down and kissed your temple before rushing off.

“Okay, well how can I hate him if he’s that adorable?” Tony whined, wanting the attention he was currently lacking.

“You literally wanted to kill him twenty minutes ago, Tones,” you gave him a pointed look.

He simply shrugged, “That’s before he was calling you sweet names. I’m only protecting you, kid.”

You shot him an appreciative smile before pulling the book Wanda had shown you closer. God, that drawing did look like you. Charcoal with yellow aging lines in the paper, a few smudges, but it most definitely looked like you but in a pilgrim dress, complete with a bonnet covering your hair. While you grazed through the surrounding paragraphs, Bucky had arrived again, this time flanked by two very nervous looking vampires.

Now set on edge, the entire Coven was tense, staring down the newcomers. You stepped forward, giving them a small smile and stretching out your hand towards them. “Hello, welcome to my home, I’m y/n.”

The two new vamps gave each other a look before the darker-skinned man stepped forward. He took your hand and bowed, locking eyes with you as he kissed your knuckles. “A pleasure to meet you, miss. I’m Sam, and the blonde idiot behind me is Steve,” he smiled warmly, a hint of fangs peaking behind his lips.

You blinked a few times, unsure how to react before Bucky thankfully took over. “Okay, okay, we get it, you have good manners. Hands off my girl, or I’ll get the silver,” he growled playfully, taking your hand from Sam and pulling you against his chest protectively. You blushed, tugging yourself away while giving him a glare before looking towards the two new vampires, unsure how to explain the insanity that was currently your life.

The blonde, Steve, took a step forward, hands in his pocket as he assessed you with a once over. “So, you’re the infamous Theodosia?” He wondered aloud.

Sparks lit up behind your eyes for a split second, “Is there a problem with that?” You challenged, squaring your shoulders and standing a little straighter, chin a little higher. You wouldn’t admit it, but Steve was intimidating; tall, broad shoulders and the knowledge that human killing fangs were just beneath those plush lips gave him a darker aura. Yet you had a strong feeling he was just as much of a puppy dog as Bucky was so you didn’t let your fear show.

Steve smirked faintly, relaxing, “None at all. Just curious is all. I’ve always wondered about the woman Buck would talk about in his sleep.” Bucky went red at the statement, glaring daggers at his packmate.

You couldn’t help but laugh, smiling warmly. “Well, make yourself at home. Look out for Tony, he bites. If you need me, I’ll be looking for more spells for memory loss, or information on the Council, or on Soul Bindings,” you turned, Tony growling at the two, picking up a new book and plopping down on the windowsill. You frowned, quickly scanning through the pages, most of the Coven either joining you in looking for more information or in Carol’s case, practically interrogating Steve and Sam.

Bucky sat beside you, and you, not wanting to get distracted, kept flipping through pages while biting your lip. He slowly leaned his head against your shoulder, “You look cute when you're worried,” he murmured.

You couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on your face, “Well, I am worried. I’m hoping for some sort of improving memories spell. I want to remember you. Fully. Not just glimpses of the life we used to share.” You sighed softly, closing one book to open another. “I don’t want you to forget me again,” you admitted in a soft voice. It was selfish, after all, he didn’t choose to be turned, and yet, you were horrified this was all some joke. That you were being too trusting, or that it was all too good to be true, or, worse, there was something bigger and darker hiding in the shadows about to strike.

“I’m scared I’ll forget you too,” he admitted softly. Pausing between pages, the library now mostly empty, only Natasha quietly flipping through pages on the sofa, it felt more intimate. “I’m terrified. I just found you, I’m finally remembering again, and yet, I’m immortal. I’m just going to lose you again.”

Turning towards him, you tilted his chin up before cupping his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed as he leaned against your touch. “I’m not going anywhere, James. We’ll figure this out, I promise.” He nodded faintly, losing himself to your touch, smiling warmly. “You don’t want to turn me, do you?” You questioned lightly.

“God no. I wouldn’t wish this curse upon my worst enemy. I want you to live a long healthy, normal life.” He quickly responded.

“Alright, relax vampy, it was only a question,” you teased.

Comfortable silence surrounded you two, content in simply existing beside each other. You ran your hand through his hair tenderly, letting him lean against you as you skimmed pages. Hours passed like this, quiet and searching, satisfied in the small moments. You didn’t learn much, not enough information was being written about Naturals, and even less so about Soul Bound Naturals, but you got the jest. Powerful alone and lethal together. Threatening one tended to make the other go wild. Hurting one hurt the other. They were each other’s greatest strength and worst weakness. You also had read up on vampire history, learning a bit more about your current nap buddy. Speaking of, you were also fairly sure Bucky had fallen asleep against you, not that you minded much. You realized this morning he must not have fed in a while, and he must be drained. You absentmindedly started thinking of how to bring up the subject of feeding to him.

A sharp crash in the other room had both of you jumping to your feet. You must have dozed off, the book you were reading was on the ground, and your hair mused. Sharing a look, the two of you rushed to the sound, keeping pressed to the walls.

A Council Member, Jack Rollins, stood there, a dagger pressed against Maria’s throat. You froze in the doorway, just out of sight, pressing your hand against Bucky, pushing him back through the door. Rollins was surrounded by the Coven, each with eyes burning straight into the man before them. Tony had his fangs bared, Sam and Steve beside him, fangs also bared, eyes red. Maria herself looked almost bored, rolling her eyes at the man’s threats, despite the blade against her throat.

“This isn’t that difficult, just give us the girl and her little Leech and we can get this over with. She’s a traitor who worked with bloodsuckers to kill the Mountain Coven, last chance. Turn her in.” He warned, a sick smile on his face as the dagger dug into Maria’s throat, making her whimper softly as the knife dug deeper, a trickle of blood dripping down her neck.

“She’s not here, just leave Maria alone!” Wanda’s eyes glowed red, hands swirling in burgundy, the Coven beside her, each witch faintly glowing in power, standing their ground.

“It’s either her or this little witch,” the man snarled, taking a step back and dragging Maria by her hair.

“Stay here, please,” you begged Bucky.

He gave you a glare, whisper yelling a response. “Fuck no, I can’t just-“

“Bucky, please. They’ll need you to figure out the memories, I can handle him.” You insisted, eyes boring into him, pleading for him to understand.

He finally nodded, albeit, hesitantly. “Please stay safe, Little Witch,” he murmured, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. The air was tense, his face only centimeters away from yours, and if Maria wasn’t about to get her throat slit in the other room, you would probably have had enough guts to kiss him. And yet, Maria needed you. Your Coven needed you.

Taking a step into the room, you let your electricity crawl up your spine, down your palms, the sparks gathering everyone’s attention. “Hey asshole, I’m right here. Let her go and get out of my house.” The sparks turned hot blue, your eyes most likely reflected the same color.

He simply laughed, tugging Maria against his chest as a human shield. “Where’s your little Blood Sucker? Got rid of you that easy? Eh, whatever, doesn’t matter. Let’s go, Natural.”

You swallowed against the bile in your throat. Him saying that out loud send a wave of anxiety through your body. “Let. Her. Go.” You countered.

He tossed a pair of cuffs at you, and you caught them easily, making sure they didn’t fall to the ground. “Wear those first.”

“Cuffs? Kinky, but I’m seriously not interested in you like that. Sorry, Darlin’”

“They’re power dampeners. Either put them on and come with me, or witchy savior here will be a reenactment of the Red Wedding,” he responded, growing frustrated.

Seeing no choice, and pointedly ignoring your sisters, you put the cuffs on, the sparks from your body dying out with a fizzle. Your coven had protected you since you were little, it was time to take responsibility. It was time to protect them. It was an easy decision really, you would die for your sisters without a second thought. “All cuffed up, my safe word is Pumpernickle. Now, let my sister go.”

He simply replied with a wicked smirk, the silver dagger moving away from Maria as he tossed her aside. Rough calloused hands grabbed onto you, the knife now lodged against your throat. “Sorry, not into knife play, darlin’” you snarled, squirming in his grip.

“God, do you ever shut up?!” He scowled, clearly getting more agitated.

“Nope, and you didn’t bring a gag so you're out of luck!” You ignored the faint burn of the dagger as it turned into your neck.

“Hush, unless you want your coven to know what the inside of your throat looks like,” he growled into your ear, fear shooting through your body. Nat took a step forward, gripping her own knives. “Take another step and she won’t be the only witch I kill tonight,” he warned. “Let’s go, fight and I’ll just pick one of them,” he nodded towards the vampires. He dragged you backward and at the last moment, Natasha took another careful step forward.

Time seemed to slow as you watched in horror. Rollins threw the knife, with absolute precision. It hurled towards Natasha, and yet a blur intersected its path towards its target. Bucky fell to the ground, the silver dagger buried in his chest, graphite grey veins and skin starting to grow outwards from the wound. Silver could kill vampires.

You cried out, a feral screech clawing from your throat as you let your emotions consume you. Electricity crackled, and you abruptly realized the cuffs around your wrists were broken and smoking on the ground at your feet. Agony shot through your chest as you leaped forward, kneeling beside Bucky.

“No, no, no, no. Why would you do that, you absolute idiot!” You cried out, tugging him into your body protectively, your hands struggling to find purchase near the blade. His own body was unaffected by the electricity sparking in your hands as you lost control. Vampires didn’t bleed, but they could turn ashen and die. And as Bucky started to turn grey, his veins turning lead, you realized this could be it. He would die trying to protect your Coven from the people who took you from him in the first place.

“I know what it’s like to lose family, y/n…” He gulped faintly, words starting to slur as he pulled the dagger out, tossing it aside. “Losing your Coven would devastate you. I couldn’t let you live like that.” He tenderly pushed a curl of hair behind your ear before running his thumb across your cheekbone.

Your vision blurred, practically sobbing as you held his hand closer to your face. “But I can’t lose you when we just found each other again. James, please,” you pleaded, your hands starting to tremble. Agonizing anguish started to fill your chest, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You tried to keep calm, tried to think of ways to fix this.

“You always were the stronger one, Theo. I promised to keep you safe, and yet you protected yourself. You’re strong, Little Witch. You’ll move on just fine without me,” His voice was getting weaker, and you were vaguely aware of Nat trying to calm you with her powers from across the room, and the fact that where Rollins was standing there was only a pile of ash and scorch marks on the carpet.

“But I don’t want to. Bucky, please,” you pleaded, hot wet tears streaming your cheeks. “Not without you.” You were most definitely shaking now, grief clouding your mind. “I haven’t told you that I’m falling in love with you. This lifetime, right here, right now. My goofy and mischievous, tenderhearted vampire.” You murmured, his cool hand pressed against your cheek. The words echoed in your ears. Vampire. “James?”

Your voice was meek, and his hand twitched, weak in your arms as he replied. “Yes, Little Witch?”

“Fed from me,” you whispered.

“I can’t use you like that…” he groaned softly, the grey veins climbing his neck. “I might not be able to stop, Y/n,” he warned.

You nodded, sniffling softly. “I trust you, Bucky. The ultimate trust, right? I trust you to stop, and even if you don’t…” The words were unspoken but were understood between the two of you. ‘I would die for you.’

“Okay, Sweetling,” he conceded, body too weak to fight your stubbornness.

You raised your wrist to his mouth, “All yours, Angel Eyes,” you whispered softly. He kissed your pulse point, sending a shiver down your spine. For a starving and dying vampire, he showed an immense amount of restraint and control. The artery in his neck turned light grey, the strain shown in his features. You glanced at your coven sisters, all of which were showing a variety of reactions. Mostly surprise you would do this, but Nat and you locked eyes. She could always feel your emotions the best out of the entire coven, and now all she felt was desperation and hope, yet she also felt an unspoken emotion. Love.

Looking back down at Bucky as he bared his fangs, he looked up at you before sinking them into your wrist, his vampire instincts taking over as he slowly drank from your lifeline. The coloring returned to his face, grey lines and skin disappearing completely. But he kept drinking, practically growling into your arm as his eyes flashed red before closing them, concentrated in what he was doing. You ran your free hand through his hair weakly as black spots filled your vision. “I love you, Bucky,” you murmured incoherently just as the black abyss pulled you into unconsciousness. An overwhelming sense of calm filling you.

---

Soft, enchanting humming pulled you into the world of the living. The velvet cushioning of your favorite blanket was wrapped around you, a cool arm draped across your waist, your face pressed into a chilled body. Even groggy you realized exactly who it was, and you didn’t hesitate to nuzzle deeper into his arms.

“James,” you murmured, your voice sounded raspy, wrecked. You most unquestionably noticed the satisfying feeling in your chest, as if being wrapped in his arms was the only place on Earth you belonged in.

“I’m sorry, Little Witch. I should have stopped sooner,” he whispered softly. You noticed he was playing with the ends of your hair, twirling the curls around his finger.

“I told you,” you managed to speak in a small voice, “I trusted you to stop. Even if you didn’t, I made that choice.”

He chuckled faintly, “Thought Tony was going to murder me, definitely looked ready to. Natasha stopped him, said you felt at peace.” He sighed as he pulled away gently, tilting your chin up to lock eyes with him. You absentmindedly noticed you were alone in your room, laying on top of the covers of your bed, contentedly cuddled close. “You were ready to die to save me.”

“You were dying to save my Coven sister.” You let your eyes close as you leaned against his touch, your own hands pressed against his chest. “I would blame it on my emotions, but I would do it again without hesitation.” You smiled faintly into his touch, kissing his palm that rested against your cheek. “My Angel Eyes.”

Your eyes fluttered open, everything felt at ease with him here. You caught him glancing down at your lips, making your smile widen. “Bucky?” He hummed in response as you leaned your forehead against his. “Please kiss me.”

His responding smile set your heart on fire. “As you wish, Sweetling,” he murmured, closing the distance and kissing you. He held your face in his hands tenderly, his own soft lips perfectly slotting against your own. You leaned forward as you deepened the kiss, running your tongue along his bottom lip. He groaned softly in response, pushing forward as he took control of the kiss, which sent a warm spark down your spine. His breathing hitched, and beneath your fingertips, you felt a small thump. You both froze, eyes widening as you pulled away.

“Did… Did your heart just beat?” you murmured softly, trying not to notice how his lips were starting to get kiss swollen.

He nodded, eyes just as wide as yours. “I thought I imagined that.”

You shook your head, the words of one of the Binding books coming back to you. “Bound are each other’s strengths and weaknesses. A heartbeat is a weakness for a vamp.” You tried to reason.

He chuckled, “And here I thought I was going to reason that you’re my life and found your way back to me.”

Blushing, you couldn’t stop the smile from lighting up your features. You also finally realized you were all alone, the house quiet. “How long was I out?”

“A few hours. Everyone went to Pepper’s house. Wanda said something about giving us space.” He shrugged, still busy thinking about the implications of a heartbeat. Was he becoming alive again?

“Hey, Bucky?” You whispered softly.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me again.” He obliged, closing the distance to kiss you again. He was the one to deepen the kiss first, gentle yet dominating, demanding your full attention. You got lost in his touch, pressed against him as his hand around your waist pulled you tighter against him. “James,” you practically purred against his lips.

He groaned softly, smirking. “I love it when you say my name.” His lips brushed against yours, easily pulling your mouth back on his.

“Then I’ll keep saying it, Angel Eyes,” you murmured, pulling far enough off of him to run a hand through his fluffed up and mused hair. He groaned softly, making you grin as you lightly traced your fingertips against his scalp. “I want to remember, Bucky. Help me remember and I help you remember? All of it? From the beginning? I know a witch from another Coven who can help us.”

He leaned his forehead against yours, lips brushing past yours as he nodded. “All of it, Sweetling. From the beginning. And Theo?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

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frostysprinklez · 4 years ago

Text

When Star Vs. The Forces of Evil meets Cyberpunk

Summary Overview of Cyberpunk

This is an upcoming fan-fictional story of The Cyberpunk Chronicles: Project Maximus based on Star Vs. The Forces of Evil and Cyberpunk tabletop RPG game created by Mike Pondsmith's vision of a dystopian American future.

This fictional story takes place in an alternate timeline where America was once a great superpower has fallen from grace; leaving millions of Americans to defend themselves. They were either perished during a state of emergency, or were forced to join with a group of tribes calling themselves the Nomads. The rest of the world like China, Japan, and Europe maintain their economic status as they began to thrive for technology and cybernetic augmentations.

The bad news is half of the country became a desolate wasteland due to the lack of resources and decimating towns and cities of what's left of America. The New United States America (NUCA) was established after the collapse; under the dictatorship rule by President Elizabeth Kress. A former military officer who's been serving more than six consecutive terms while the government ignores the president's terms as long as she remains in power. The good news is some states like Alaska, North California, South California, Utah, Nevada, and The Republic of Texas have made a decision to exceed the NUSA to become independent and run their own governed state. In the year 1995, a new civilization has sprung up from America's ashes located in the Northern State of California called "Conorado City," which the city has changed to "Night City" after its predecessor Richard Night was assassinated from his newly constructed penthouse.

His vision was to create Night City into a place of sanctuary and establish law and order to keep people safe; hoping one day that humanity will thrive to rebuild the old world. However his vision was slipped away only to be snatched by a bullet. In the year 2021, Militech and Arasaka have declared war. The war was split into two factions and fought tooth and nail to obtain corporate's assets in order to become the toughest Megacorp in the century. This war has costed millions of lives and the world was ravaged by two powerful megacorporations; tearing the planet itself apart. They began deploying mercenary troops, tanks, aerodyne assault drop ships, armored vehicles, edge runners, and solos who are on the edge of cyberp psychosis. A mental illness caused by too many cybernetic implants after they were driven insane and went on a killing spree, which this mental illness was discovered by it's true nature for someone to loose their sense of human identity and costed their lives to become a psychotic killing machine.

The Fourth Corporate Wars lasted for four years until Night City was decimated by a pocket nuke after the Arasaka twin towers were obliterated. This city has become another bloody chapter of Night City's grim past and costed thousands and thousands of augmented souls. Their human civilization has proved themselves to show pure ignorance for their flaws and failed to repeat the same mistakes. Life goes on.

Decades have passed after The Fourth Corporate Wars, a rockerboy name Marco M. Kojima and his posergang members are trying to survive in a dystopian society of Night City's most dangerous city in America, against corporate cops, booster gangs, cultists, mercenaries, and cyber psychos.

Main Story & Focus on Marco's Posergang

The story focuses on Marco's lifepath before he became a Rockerboy and the events took place in Night City. Marco was adopted by a corpo family living in Tokyo, Japan. They raised him as their son for years until they were eventually murdered by corporate mercenaries. He ended up living in Night City for most of his life, but he also used to be part of a Nomad Clan and Valentino's gang.

He's also the lead singer musician and the leader of a booster gang calling themselves The Sons of Hellfire (Reference tv show of Sons of Anarchy) after performing his first gig at Night City High School. His gang's logo is a demon girl with a shape of a flaming heart that surrounds her (Hekapoo). Her appearance has pale skin (white) with fangs on her teeth and her forearms has spikes and claws on her hands. She has orange pupils and dark yellow sclera eyes, which she also has red hair and wears a fancy dress that matches her eyes. The demon girl also wields a pair of scissors, which Marco has on his possession. Marco's posergang members will cosplay as greasers from an 80s film, which they prefer with hair pomade and apply their hairstyle to pose someone who's famous. Many members will wear leather jackets modified with kevlar armor linen on the interior, and shoulder plates on the exterior, but sometimes they'll have a red collar around the back of the neck which protects them from getting hacked by netrunners. Some of Marco's gang are former booster gangs, solos, techies, Nomads, smugglers, and former corporate mercenaries. His members are consistent at least 30+ members for a relatively small group. Their list of gang activities mostly involves neighborhood watch (guardians), muscle-for-hire, street racing (either on road or off road), burgarly, and game activities (like poker, caravan, dominoes, five finger fillet, and blackjack).

Their headquarters is located somewhere in Night City where they live closer to the combat zone and they usually hangout at a local junkyard at a fancy 80s restaurant called "Johnny Rockets." The owner who runs the bar is Danse and they mostly serve alcohol, soft drinks, and milkshakes. They mostly rely with switchblades and armed with pre-war weapons, sometimes they prefer to carry heavy pistols and assault rifles, or shotguns. Their cyber bikes are customized that represents their gang logo, which they prefer to travel in large packs at least six-12 members and use highways to get around in Night City.

They're currently into conflict with the Malstrom gang since they don't appreciate their hostility for treating one of their members for being an "inferior human" and The Valentino's gang also has beef with Marco. A long time ago, Marco was once an initiate after his roommate Miguel encoueaged him to join their gang. Its not because he was concerned about choosing a side, but he also has a secret crush with Vaggie (Valentine Guerrero) despite she can be "gruff" with the boys sometimes. He stayed with them for over a year until Carlos and his friends caught a teenage straggler named Luke after stealing money from their gang. He handed the pistol to Marco and ordered him to kill Luke. He had two choices: He can become part of a gang member, or be left in the streets to fend for himself. Marco couldn't pull the trigger, but Carlos had no patience for pu#%$#s like him, so he decided to do it for himself. Marco decided to pull the trigger and shot Carlos in the leg. He didn't want to hurt anyone but he didn't want to become a murderer either, so Miguel told him to run and they escape.

The Valentino's gang and The Sons of Hellfire have been tearing each other's throats since day one, but none of them decided to start a gang war. Marco didn't want that, so the two factions mostly settle a dispute with street fights. One day, Marco was in a school cafeteria until he got into someone's face who didn't appreciate showing his face around here. They got into a fight while everyone was chanting the word "fight." When the fight was over. Marco didn't know that was Vaggie's girlfriend and she witnessed what happened. He pleaded Vaggie that it was an "accident" after breaking her friend's ribcage, but her response was "you're done."

Marco's History

Marco has no memory of who he is or where'd he come from. The only few mementos he had on him was two pairs of fancy scissors and an ancient samurai sword after his adopted parents discovered a baby crib sitting outside of their patio front door. Marco's scissors bows had a shape of a hear with a dark-purple color, a golden blade that looks rusted for decades, and the middle of the bolt has a logo of a fireball. The other scissors bows also has a shape of a fireball colored in red, similar to Marco's, the middle of the bolt is also shaded in yellow, and the end of the white blade has a shape of a dagger that looks sheathed.

The samurai sword he had in his possession was made out of copper and steel: On the collar it had holes that look like it had shapes of fins, the guard was a shape of a dragon that spews out a fireball, and the handle was decorated with skulls vertically. Although, the steel blade has been rusted overtime and hasn't been cleaned for ages, which there was no point of attempting to repair it. His father was kind enough to reconstruct his sword from the ground up and hired a blacksmith who knows him well. Marco now carries his father's sword that was recently been melted down from his old samurai sword. The sword itself has a Red, blood-like, Damascus blade with a copper plated collar of a dragon. The handle's linen exterior was black and red; decorated and shape like diamonds with a four-part symbol vertically.

His father decided to give him the name Marco because of the scissors he carried that was rusted has a signature that says "MARCO" engraved on his name, and gave him the middle name "Maximus," which comes from a latin greek name that means "Greatest" or "Largest." His father passed onto his adopted son's last name Kojima, named after his father before him, and the Kojima family has been working for Arasaka since World War II.

Marco's Personality & Estrange Powers

His personality has a combination of Berserk (brave, but emotionless), Nathan Drake (from Uncharted: funny, but can be a sarcastic jerk sometimes), and Ponyboy (The Outsiders: Cares about his friends and his loved ones). He can be a sarcastic jerk sometimes when he greets with his peers, even his sworn enemies. His life caused him to go through a tough depression after losing his adopted parents, but he had someone who gives him love and support. The only thing that fears him the most is his last name. If anyone found out that Marco was raised by a corpo family working for Arasaka. Many of his members and fans will shunned him. He didn't want everyone to know who he is, so he mostly keeps his secrets to himself except his girlfriend. His love of Johnny Silverhand's music inspired him to become part of a rebellion against Arasaka. He utilizes his musical lyrics to voice his anger and manipulates his fans to gain leverage and go against a specific group or person.

During Marco's early childhood, he had some kind of entity living inside of him. Whenever he feels agitated or angry, his orange pupils will glow brighter as a sun and his fangs will pop out from his teeth as a sign of anger. Marco has never lost control of himself since it's common to deal with local street punks and wannabe gangsters. His adopted parents have treated him with love and respect no matter how he looks different than the other humans.

If someone tries to harm him or his friends that puts them in danger. He'll beat them senseless and shows no mercy until they're either knocked out unconscious or they'll loses a tooth with a few broken bones. Many Night City residents and booster gangsters refer to him as: Hell Boy, El Diablo, Lucifer, Morningstar, and Mad Max.

Is SVTFOE a Crossover of Cyberpunk?

Yes, this is part of a fan-fiction story portrayed by some characters featured in Cyberpunk from Star Vs. The Forces Of Evil. There's also going to be some familiar faces added on my story, new enemies, and different scenarios. This story will focus on the main characters, including the gangs of Night City, Nomad Clans, and Megacorporations.

Disclaimer:

I never watched the show of SVTFOE, but I have read some fictional comic books made by independent authors and so as the creators who made this show.

What is Cyberpunk?

Cyberpunk is an old-fashioned genre that appeared in the 1950s or 60s by a group of RPG game fanatics who had a vision idea of a dystopian society: The difference between "dystopia" and "dystopian" have two different meanings, but they sound similar. The word "Dystopia" is a place or a community society under a utopia illusion that looks more frightening and unstable ruled by a powerful government or entity; which is inspired by Thomas More published from his book in the 1500s called: Utopia. Another word of "Dystopian" is a prediction that foresees a person's perspective of what our society will look like in the grim future (or The Dark Future).

The word "Cyber" is part of a metal gimmick or amputee of a cybernetic augmentation that's replaced with an artificial limb that looks fake, except it's manufactured by a company who makes them. In the world of cyberpunk, many war veterans have lost their limbs before the collapse. Many Megacorporations have began manufacturing cybernetic limbs that were in high demand, and benefited many disabled people to replace their lost limbs for cybernetics.

However this game didn't featured with interface plugs to connect with computers or machines back then until Mike Pondsmith released his first tabletop game of Cyberpunk 2020 in the late 80s. The word "Punk" is an old fashion style that people will wear flashy weird-looking clothes, leather jackets, metal piercings, crazy hairstyles, colors, boots, chains, and testosterone. Most people will design their own fashion clothing with many, many styles of their own design. When you see a posergang wearing flashy clothes, they'll dressed and match with weird-looking accessories, sometimes you'll noticed their facial and body features will not resemble as human. They can depict someone as a conehead, a furry animal, or a mythical creature.

Cyberpsychosis

In the world of cyberpunk, many solos and booster gangs will upgrade their implants and become superhumans to push their limits in order to survive, or to prove themselves worthy, but due to their mental illness of Cyberpsychosis. Their mental health has slowly deteriorated and became unstable. They will stop their daily routines (like eat, sleep, socialize, sex, or love interest) and become distant with friends and family. Soon, they'll see themselves more like a machine as they loose their human identity. And later afterwards, they'll become aggressive and see humans as "weaker" and "inferior." As a result, their psychotic rampage will caused them to go insane and lost the ability to reason.

Night City has become a dangerous place to live in America for decades, and Cyberpsychosis has become a big problem since the 2000s. Most state-sponsored organizations offer patients for treatment to recover from their mental illness, but it has become increasingly difficult to transfer patients to become a stable human being. The Night City Police Department has created a new division department called: NCPD Psycho Squad or Maximum Force Tactical Division (MAX-TAC). They have the best gear and equipment they need with heavily combats vehicles and AV-9s, with at least six highly trained SWAT members and one Officer in the field, but they sometimes do require to be cybernetically enhanced before deployment. They're mostly referred to as C-SWAT (Cybernetic Special Weapons & Tactical Squad) and are extremely aggressive when dealing with these cyber psycho threats. They will sent C-SWAT to kill or subdue cyber psychos if possible. If a SWAT unit fails, then they'll dispatch MAX-TAC units to take care of it.

What's it like Living in Night City?

Night City was an inspiration to rebuild a utopia city; free from government corruption and lawlessness. Richard Night's goal was to establish an independent City where everyone can live freely, but he was mysteriously murdered by a monster family. Megacorporations and private military like Militech and Arasaka have taken Richard Night's place and began expanding their business across Night City districts. The Night City Police Department is established and are divided into seven divisions, which they're privately funded by Megacorporations and are sent to patrol in each district zone "only to the highest bidder."

Although, some district zones where there's constant battles between factions and are crawling with booster gangs, cultist maniacs, cyber psychos, and street scum are called "Combat Zones." A combat zone is part of Night City's district located at the Pacifica district sector. Combat zones is a lawless place and are a no go. Law enforcement is limited or non-existent, and no emergency services to call for help. Traveling through the combat zone is not recommended and are controlled by a heavily armed booster gang running the district. If you happen to live near the combat zone where it's close to home. Many corporate cops and business executives tend to avoid that area and would not risk collecting tax money from residents who reside there. Sometimes booster gangsters will offer protection money for landlords and neighborhood tenants in case if there's trouble on the homefront. Some sponsored programs do offer licensing to work as police freelancers, neighborhood watchers, and bodyguards. Although there are some limitations to use some utilization of authority.

Night City's life of crime has two working class citizens: You have the higher-class rich family living in high-end corporate zones with corporate security and private militia, and you have the lower-class losers living in low-end district slums surrounded by booster gangs and violent crime in the streets. The middle-class is non-existent in Night City. It's not everyone's favorite choice, but people have decided live in those city slums these days. It's also a common routine for Night City resident to carry with weapons and firearms, and sometimes they'll modify their clothing to add kevlar and armor plates for body protection. Some cybernetic augs will also have implants to carry their weapon concealed like the mantis blades or a plasma cannon. The problem with Night City's lack of infrastructure and protection for their citizens only cared about "corporate interests" and can care less about their citizens unless their corporate business puts them on jeopardy. They're equally as evil and corrupt compare to some business executives.

Is This Story Starco related?

Actually, no. This story is related to a Markapoo timeline when Hekapoo falls in love with Marco. I read one of the creator's fan-fiction comic books from his patreon page (Zaicomaster14) and was interested about their love story. Marco is a reincarnation of Hekapoo, but his powers are limited in an alternate timeline because of his human form.

What Inspired You to Create a Fictional Story of Cyberpunk?

I first watch the trailer of Cyberpunk 2077's E3 trailer back in 2013 when they featured a video by CDProjekt Red. They're a small conservative polish company located in Europe and they're a big fan of Mike Pondsmith's work, so they offer him to turn his life's work into a video game that inspires people who play RPG games.

I have watched films that are based on science fiction and fantasy, and I have read a few books like Altered Life. If you have watched the movie Blade Runner and Altered Carbon (Netflix Series) that's based on cyberpunk. You'll get a clear painting picture of Night City's dystopian society where violence and oppression are the norm. A city being controlled by a powerful government or megacorporation that shares a common goal only for themselves, but not for the people who want a brighter future.

#star vs the forces of evil #svfoe #cyberpunk #cyberpunk 2077 #dystopia #dark future #project maximus

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xathia-89 · 6 years ago

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Overcoming the Past

Azuchi was as lively as ever. Kenshin had brought me along since it was turning into a long-term allegiance with Nobunaga to chase down Kennyo and all of his network. He feared that leaving me behind would make me an obvious target for the former Abbott, especially since both him and Shingen really needed to be here to ensure that everything was going to be lead from this point. It would give Kenshin a better piece of mind at least, though Hideyoshi had taken the same sort of shine to me as well for some bizarre reason.

I had been visiting Sasuke when we’d both been sucked into a wormhole. We were friends from high school, and despite all outward appearances, we were always close. Yukimura had initially decided that I was trying to con Sasuke into a romantic relationship, then as he saw us constantly he realised that I had never even considered anything on that scale. I even humoured the vassal as I simply kept myself aloof of Shingen’s flirting techniques. Takeda was persistent, and I was constantly on my guard around the man. I took to spending my time mostly with Kenshin anyway since the God of War was too busy focusing on his next battle to understand what the castle needed for its smooth operation in his absence.

It was rare that I went anywhere near a battlefield. It wasn’t in my interest nor my nature. I was much happier being left back at Kasugayama and making sure that there was always a home for them all to return to. Takeda had been threatened after a couple of days of listening to me complain about the visiting warlord by Kenshin, and Shingen decided to listen to it from what I had experienced afterwards at least. So it meant that I could do all the homey things without sending the wrong intentions to the Kai warlord.

Yukimura and Sasuke were practically joined at the hip, even if most of what Sasuke said flew over the vassal’s head. And it was a comfort to me to have Sasuke so close. I had no idea how he survived for four years without me, I was floundering for the half an hour that he wasn’t present when I arrived in the Sengoku.

I had been formally introduced to the staff and anyone vaguely near Azuchi castle as an Uesugi Princess, so a lot of the maids were both scared of my connection to Kenshin and very curious. It didn’t bother me what they thought or said about it since it wasn’t like I would be living at Azuchi forever. Kenshin had gotten a gut instinct that leaving me behind without protection would leave Kennyo with an option of forcing battle before they were all ready and had stubbornly made me pack things whilst my horse had been saddled up. Sasuke and Yukimura found it very amusing to listen to me telling Kenshin off for treating me as though I was a thing to order about. Shingen found it endearing and tried to flirt with me which left him with a red palm print across his cheek.

“Kenshin,” I whined at him as he entered after another long day in council with his least favourite people.

“Don’t start,” he barked, though nodding in thanks after I poured his sake out.

“It’s boring! And you forced me to come with you, but I’m not allowed anywhere without an escort, and all the escorts are in the same meeting as you are,” I sulked. “Don’t they have any seamstresses here?”

“I’ll ask tomorrow for you,” Kenshin sighed, and then patted me on the head. It was a sibling-kind of affection between us, just as it was between me and Sasuke. “I had to get the most annoying Chatelaine-Princess in all of Japan,” he smiled.

“Well if you didn’t have me, then you’d be bored,” I beamed. “Has anyone seen him?” I switched to a serious note.

“We’ve had rumours. Sasuke is working with Mitsuhide to collaborate on where we need to go. You’ll be staying here with Hideyoshi as your guard,” the mismatched eyes were momentarily glaring at me.

“Hey, I never said I needed a guard,” I argued and pushed the pickled plums towards the warlord. “That was your decision and wording.”

“Only because I made the stupid decision to bring you with me onto the battlefield once, and Kennyo saw you as the weak spot he could exploit,” Kenshin shook his head. It wasn’t regret anymore, it was a simple fact. Kennyo was the current problem, and that needed addressing. Unfortunately for everyone involved it meant joining up with his sworn enemy Nobunaga Oda. I was useless with a sword, and more likely to hurt myself than anyone else, every attempt at teaching me self-defence had gone more than a little awry and we found out that I wasn’t much better at being a healer. “Go and get some sleep, I’ll see if Nobunaga or Hideyoshi can help solve your boredom before Sasuke gets wind of it and gets you out of safety.”

I wasn’t that surprised to find Toyotomi knocking on my door around midday. He was surprisingly accepting of me into Azuchi, probably because he’d seen first hand what I was like around a sword, and then had to bandage my arm up as well. I’d heard all the jokes that Hideyoshi was the mother hen of the castle, but then he was pleasantly surprised when it turned out that I was competent in my role as Chatelaine at Kasugayama. I was taken down to the seamstress area, where I learnt that Kenshin had been praising my skills to keep all of the staff inline after Ieyasu had slipped a comment about me being his little slip of a side thing.

“You two never act like you’re together,” the vassal admitted as we approached the lower parts of the castle.

“Lord Kenshin is just my big brother really,” I smiled. “There’s nothing romantic going on.”

“Now that’s the perfect introduction for me,” a man with an eyepatch smoothly appeared and went to put his arm over my shoulder. I instantly slapped him before he could finish the move and hid the other side of Hideyoshi, who was torn between telling me off and telling off the stranger. “That’s a good arm lass,” he chuckled, rubbing his very red cheek.

“Masamune!” Toyotomi had finally decided that his ally required the first scolding. “And don’t think you’re off the hook either Natsuki,” he frowned over his shoulder at me.

“Maybe not, but he might learn to not do that to me,” I shrugged as the door to the sewing area was opened for me, and Hideyoshi’s look told the one-eyed dragon to not follow, though it was evidently ignored as I was introduced to all of the seamstresses.

Masamune went to casually lean over and try to corner me, as I then picked up the fabric scissors to ‘examine’ them. I heard the audible gulp, and Hideyoshi was then trying to hide his amusement by coughing over a laugh. The girls were absolutely lovely and so eager to gain another set of hands for my stay as the two warlords returned to the council that was taking up everyone’s time.

Kenshin was frowning at his smirking ally. Shingen had overheard the previous evening about Masamune’s introduction to Natsuki, and how much of a failure it had been. There was still a faint outline on Date’s cheek from where he had been slapped, which did amuse the other warlords just as much.

“Natsuki didn’t like your attempts then?” Shingen was taunting Masamune, the two womanisers of the room trying to size each other up already.

“She did the same to you every time you’ve tried,” Kenshin was trying to stop the obvious before it started. “You had to get your saddle repaired from the last one because you fell off your horse.”

“She’s always around you or Sasuke though, and she’s not got her guard around Yukimura,” Takeda was practically pouting at the discussion.

“Because we don’t flirt with her,” Uesugi replied through gritted teeth.

“I bet she likes a different approach,” Mitsuhide and Sasuke had returned in the middle of the night, and Akechi was enjoying being the stirrer in this far too much.

“First one to get a kiss off our lovely Chatelaine has the rest of the warlords' sake reserves,” Shingen stated in overconfidence.

“Natsuki isn’t a toy,” Hideyoshi frowned. “Just because she won’t flirt with you or Masamune doesn’t mean she’s to be played with.”

“Maybe she likes someone, and doesn’t want to admit it?” Mitsunari was innocent in his actions and words, but he got all of the men fired up unintentionally.

“That’s a stupid bet,” I snorted as Sasuke caught me up on the commotions that had happened during the day. We were sharing some sake next to the brazier that warmed up all around. “And as lovely as Mitsunari is, that sentence just guaranteed that I’m going to be avoiding most of the castle.”

“Mm, I haven’t even told Lord Kenshin about your past,” the ninja murmured. “It’s not my story to tell.”

“He knows bits and pieces, the outline of it,” I shrugged uncomfortably. “I hate telling people. They either get overly sympathetic and start treating me like I’m a broken porcelain doll, or they get all up in my face wanting me to ‘try it with them’ as though it’ll fix all of the panic attacks,” I frowned.

“You’ve been pretty good with handling Shingen I had to admit,” Sasuke smiled proudly.

“I have been a little deceitful about the whole healing side though,” I sheepishly added.

“It keeps you away from the battlefield, your intentions are solid, and it does give myself and Lord Kenshin less to worry about if you’re safely holed up in a castle rather than back in the camps,” the man nodded his head. “Have you met all of the Azuchi warlords yet then?”

“Nearly all of them, I haven’t met Ieyasu,” I shrugged. “Apparently he’s just prickly and all that so it’s not like I’m missing out on a lot.”

I could hear the argument already forming in my friend’s mind as I smirked against my cup of sake. Sasuke had always been a fanatical history buff, and he could probably tell anyone more about the lives of these warlords than they could tell you themselves. I refilled our cups as Kenshin let himself into the room, looking as irritated as Sasuke had on his arrival.

“If you brought the pickled plums, we have the sake,” I smiled, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

“Good,” the warlord grumped, and immediately held his cup out for me to fill.

It was a comfortable silence between us, and then I was surprised when Hideyoshi came to find me and tell me about the bet.

“I’ll just be going,” Toyotomi was nervous, and it made me chuckle.

“Or you could join in with the sake drinking?” I offered, knowing that Sasuke would be fangirling on the inside at least.

Uesugi was glaring at me, but I merely smiled at the warlord in response. This was my room, and it was, therefore, my invitation that he couldn’t overrule. Hideyoshi uneasily sat between me and Sasuke, the ninja struggling to come to terms with being in such close proximity with one of his favourite warlords. I was trying to suppress all my instincts to grin wickedly at my long-term friend as I focused on the sake.

“I need a favour with this bet,” I eventually broke what was most likely half an hour of silence. “How I’ve been with Shingen and Masamune isn’t unusual, it’s my standard reaction to anyone trying to become anything more than friends,” I slowly started, circling the sake cup in my hand and staring at the clear liquid. “Sasuke knows all this, but when I was a lot younger, I did have a long-term partner. He died, and it was my fault,” I smiled tightly.

“It wasn’t your fault Natsuki,” I was surprised that the ninja had found his tongue in the presence of Hideyoshi. “He was in an accident on the way to see you, that doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”

“I begged him to come and see me,” I smiled wryly.

“He would be berating you terribly if he could see how you avoided all romance now. He’d want you to be happy,” Sasuke stoically replied.

“I am happy. I like to not get involved romantically,” I argued. “I begged him to come and see me, and he died on the way, if I hadn’t begged for him to come and see me, then he wouldn’t have died.”

Both the warlords were studying me quietly, as though things were making sense to them.

“What happened the last time someone managed to get close to you?” Kenshin asked, his eyes narrowed slightly.

Sasuke choked on his sake with laughter. “She beat them black and blue,” he grinned, a proud look on his face. “And then broke down in tears and it took me a while to get anything to make sense,” his face fell. I was busy staring at my cup, the panic attacks were never fun. “So, if we could all try and help Natsuki to avoid anyone getting too close then I think it’s best for all involved.”

Hideyoshi nodded first, which surprised me, as Kenshin gave the ninja a look which told him that he was an idiot for thinking otherwise.

Sasuke shoved me into the library suddenly a few days later. Hideyoshi and Kenshin had been brilliant in helping me avoid all of the other warlords, and I swore that I’d heard Toyotomi scolding Nobunaga for trying to trick me. I blinked as I overheard an elaborate lie coming out of the ninja’s mouth to Shingen, whilst I held in a chuckle and decided to have a look around the room I was in.

I had been studying classical Japanese scripture with Sasuke during my stay, but I wasn’t fully confident in it without someone to help. It hadn’t stopped my curiosity though as I went to get a book off the shelf, only to find it was just out of my reach and caused me to topple backwards.

I closed my eyes and braced myself for the impact, only to find that my cushion was in the grasp of an unknown man. The book fell at our feet and flopped open to show the various healing properties of a plant.

“I didn’t think that Kenshin’s Chatelaine knew any healing,” the man bristled, immediately uprighting me and turning away.

“Sasuke claimed that I just never corrected what was said,” I replied, bending over to get the book before looking at the man in question. My breath caught in my throat. He was a great likeness for Ryoma, down to the stand-offish way he abruptly addressed me. My heart was going to burst through my chest if I wasn’t careful.

“Why would you do that?” He snorted, already judging me heavily as I glanced down to the book in my hands.

“So I didn’t get under their feet on the battlefield. If I don’t know how to fight properly or heal, then there’s no point in bringing me along,” I calmly stated. “Plus if I’m not on the battlefield then Lord Kenshin can’t worry about a weakling like me,” I shrugged, and looked around to find that the only reading spot in the room was next to the strange man.

I dropped myself down onto the furthest cushion away from him and balanced the book across my lap. I was sat in the modern western manner instead of the traditional Japanese style, it was easier to not need a table if you were only reading.

“If you wanted some table space then you should have just asked,” I heard after a few minutes. It was a huffy tone, and I was struggling to keep my thoughts going straight. It reminded of the times when Ryoma and I were studying, and I’d end up in his lap whilst we went through things together that I didn’t understand.

“Thank you,” was all that I could utter, though I made sure that I wasn’t encroaching on anything the strange man had out on the table.

The book was snatched out of my hands after a short while, and I was surprised to see the man glancing over it. “This is too advance scripture for you,” it wasn’t a question, just a statement as I frowned at him. “So why are you trying to read it?”

“Sasuke, Hideyoshi or Kenshin would have come to fetch me if it was safe for me to leave, so I might as well find something to test myself with since I can’t just twiddle my thumbs for however long,” I replied, curious as to his intentions.

“I shouldn’t be surprised that Hideyoshi joined in on playing mother hen,” the blonde snorted. “Do you want help reading this or not?” He clicked before I moved next to him, and decided to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Natsuki,” Shingen’s voice called out and made me freeze up as the door to the library opened.

“She’s not here,” the male next to me stood up and glowered at the imposing warlord, whilst stopping him from being able to see around the bookcases.

“You’re no fun now Ieyasu,” Takeda darkly chuckled. “Our darling princess hasn’t been seen all day and she’s not in her room or with the seamstresses, and this is the last place in the castle to be checked.”

“Maybe she’s avoiding you all because of that stupid bet,” the blonde bristled. “She’s good friends with Kenshin’s ninja, so he’s probably helping her and they’re crawling through the roof or something,” he was trying to get Shingen to leave as I relaxed a little.

“Fine,” Shingen was clearly sulking from the tone in his voice.

I didn’t dare to breathe until his footsteps faded away, and I was still reluctant to talk, though Ieyasu simply picked the book up and resumed the lesson. It was a combination of medicine and scripture, and I was finding it soothing that everything in him was reminiscent of Ryoma. I understood what he said against what he meant, and his teaching technique was a mirror of his as well.

A soft thud and a pressure against his shoulder made the blonde stop, and he tried to not smile at the sight. The princess had fallen asleep against him. It was adorable that she apparently let her guard down around him, and her ability to understand exactly what he meant was endearing as well. There was a quiet knock at the door, which put him on edge.

Sasuke gave an apologetic bow to the warlord. “Many apologies Lord Ieyasu,” he murmured. “Lord Kenshin and Hideyoshi will appreciate that she managed to avoid Shingen, Masamune and Mitsuhide today,” he smiled and went to pick her up, only to find that Tokugawa already had the small female in his arms.

“Might as well take her back to her room right?” He abrupted said and then stared at the smiling ninja. “What?”

“I think I understand now why she let her guard down around you,” Sasuke smiled and bowed again.

“Well, she’s not annoying like most I suppose,” the blonde grumbled, already walking towards the guest quarters with the sleeping princess.

I tried to go about my days as normal, only to find out that slapping warlords was now apparently part of it. Nobunaga, Masamune, Shingen, Mitsuhide and on occasions I had found that Mitsunari was easily led astray. The staff were more amazed that I hadn’t been put in the dungeons as all of them were preparing to leave for war. I avoided Ieyasu as much as possible, it was easier than trying to constantly remind myself it wasn’t Ryoma. My emotions were definitely on a knife’s edge and it was much simpler to throw myself in to all of the sewing work that had accumulated.

Then I was called to the war council, by Nobunaga Oda of all people.

“Ieyasu let slip a piece of interesting information that Kenshin didn’t even know,” the man looked cocky and intrigued in one good. “That your knowledge and understanding of medicine matches his. Yet you keep away from all aspects of it from what I’ve heard.”

“If I get taken to the battlefield, then I just become a liability,” I replied sharply, feeling strangely wounded by the fact that Tokugawa had shared the tidbit. “So I feign no knowledge and get left behind to keep home safe for them all to return to instead. Otherwise, someone might get an idea in his head about kidnapping me,” I cooly finished, looking straight at Oda as he realised I was talking about him.

I stormed off when I was dismissed aloofly by the dark haired male. Kenshin would be questioning me later, but right now I was justifiably angry. I wanted to punch Ieyasu’s handsome face as I decided to risk everything, and ran out into the deep parts of the garden, not taking a note of my path.

“Has she been found yet?” Kenshin was frowning as his ninja dropped down soundlessly from the ceiling with a shake of his head. “We’ve emptied the castle out, and we were the last ones who saw her,” he pondered, his mismatched eyes gazing around them. “What would she normally do in anger?” He asked Sasuke, their mutual concern clear.

“She’d get out of the place and away from the people who were causing the stress,” Sasuke replied, lowering his mask to respond. “But I’m not certain that she’d find what she was looking for around here,” he frowned.

“And what would she be looking for?” The warlord pressed.

“A lake, or a river, or some form of water,” the ninja explained. “She finds it soothing.”

“Then we get the others to search for them and the surrounding areas,” Kenshin turned around promptly, his silent instruction clear as he left his ninja to do his speciality.

I didn’t remember falling asleep, as I rubbed my eyes and slowly sat up. Then a haori fell off me, and I frowned at it. It wasn’t one I recognised, as a scoff I did broke the soothing sounds of the running water.

“You’ve got everyone searching for you,” Ieyasu was abrupt. “You’re mad because I told them you’re good at medicine, and I don’t understand why it’s bothering me that you’re upset about it.”

“I’m upset because I don’t want to be dragged onto the battlefield and become a liability. I’m a weakling, leave me behind and let me do what I’m good at,” I snipped at him, already gathering his haori up to hand back to him. “And now everyone knows I’m good at medicine, they’re going to want me on the field and I’m just going to get in the way.”

“No, you won’t,” I wasn’t expecting Tokugawa to argue back with me, his face level with mine. Tears were threatening as everything was just a hark back to my relationship. I could feel the distance closing, and I was torn in two.

His lips were soft against mine. It was reminding me of everything that I’d missed since Ryoma had gone, with Ieyasu’s slender fingers gently holding my jaw up. His tongue explored every part of my mouth, as though desperate to remember my exact taste as a wanton moan escaped before I had a chance to stop it.

“What brought that on?” I breathed, our foreheads resting against each other.

“You looked like you wanted it,” Tokugawa grumbled, as I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well then, I will just need to make sure my expressions are for you only,” I smiled.

“How did Ieyasu win?!” Was shouted across the river, and both of us instantly froze up at the sound of Masamune’s voice.

“Oh, that stupid bet,” Tokugawa rubbed his forehead.

“I know you didn’t just kiss me because of that, otherwise you’d have done so in the library,” I replied, getting him to look me in the eyes, and trying to ignore my impending panic attack.

I was swaddled in warmth, as I blinked in surprise before realising that I was wrapped up in Ieyasu’s arms under his haori. My head was resting against his chest as I listened to his breathing to set mine to.

“I could see you beginning to panic,” the blonde mumbled, keen to keep his voice out of reach of the now approaching warlords.

“Thank you,” I quietly responded, not letting my grip go from around his waist.

Kenshin was watching his Chatelaine with avid interest. She was quietly cooped up in the corner of the main hall with Ieyasu, both of them eating the stupidly spicy food that Tokugawa liked as on occasions the heat would get too much for Natsuki, and she’d neck down a large amount of sake.

“I think we lost our princess,” Shingen was being a sore loser and pouting. Though he wasn’t alone as Masamune was half-heartedly glaring at the sight.

“No, she’s just found out where she needs to be,” Uesugi corrected his ally and toasted his cup to the woman who had glanced over in his direction with an apologetic smile.

#ikesen #Ikémen Sengoku #ikemen sengoku #Ieyasu Tokugawa

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operationrainfall · 6 years ago

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Title Dragon Marked for Death Developer INTI CREATES CO., LTD. Publisher INTI CREATES CO., LTD. Release Date January 31st, 2019 Genre Action RPG Platform Switch Age Rating T for Teen Official Website

Editor’s Note: For simplicity, the italicized sections represent Marisa’s impressions, while the regular ones represent Steve’s.

I recently spent some time with the latest offering from Inti Creates, Dragon Marked for Death. I went into this one expecting your standard Action RPG with some different classes and some ho hum missions. What we got was way beyond what I expected. You will hear from both myself and my partner in crime for this review, Marisa. We’ll answer the most important question of all, was this game fun?

In this game you take control of a member of the Dragonblood Clan. This was a group of humans that were caught up in the war between the Celestials and the Astral Dragons. They were saved by the blood of a dying dragon named Atruum. Why he decided to give them his blood is not known, but anyone born into the clan from this day forward would bear the Dragon Scar on their body and worship Atruum. In present day, your clan has sworn revenge on the Medius Empire for destroying your home, but first you will have to prove your place in this world as the clan isn’t seen in the best light.

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When purchasing the game, you have a couple of different options. You can take the fighter pack which contains the Empress and Warrior, or play more strategically with the Shinobi and Witch. These packs cost $14.99 each and you can purchase both if you want to have access to all four different classes. I played with the Warrior mostly, but I did check out the Empress as well. They are very similar, but the Empress seems to be a bit faster than the Warrior. She also seems to do a little less damage, but that could’ve been because the weapon I had equipped wasn’t as good as his currently equipped axe.

In terms of raw gameplay, the game does a decent job in tailoring a smooth and quick experience. Combat moves typically don’t have huge amounts of delay and it’s simple enough to access the menu and use equipped items. Characters themselves are also easy enough to understand that with practice, using their abilities is basically second-nature. Even the Witch, which relies on incantations based on repeated button inputs, is not complicated to play as. Speaking of characters, there are four different characters, two designated as Frontline attackers and two as Advanced attackers. Each has a specific playstyle, ranging from brute force to utility. This means that a party of four has tailored roles to support the group.

After the tutorial mission you will find yourself in town. Here you can visit shops, take items out of your truck and take on quests. The shops in town will provide you with weapons, accessories and consumables that will be vital to your survival. You do need to watch out when purchasing equipment, as a certain level is required to use most of it. Once you setup all your gear, it’s time to take on a quest. The objectives of these are widely varied. They can be anything from clean out the monster dens to catching up with a floating balloon. While some of these are less fun than others, variety is the spice of life and this certainly works in the game’s favor.

Combat and exploration is perhaps the game’s best attribute. Quest areas typically have treasure chests to find, along with other secrets. As usual for Inti Creates games, enemies have specific reasons behind their attacks. Like the frog enemy may suddenly do a tongue attack at times, but will only do so if you are close enough for it to trigger. For bosses, they can either have a specific pattern for attacks or have a specific animation to tell what they are about to do. As such, fighting enemies and bosses is not typically a chore. Quests themselves also help to keep gameplay variety.

Quests are where the majority of EXP and gold are received from. They can range from merely going from point A to point B, to gathering a certain amount of items, and protecting civilians. For the most part, the requirements to complete a quest are lenient. The actual main concern is the time limit. For some quests, particularly if you are playing single-player, the time limit can be exceptionally tight. If you don’t rush for the goal, you might merely have a minute or so to spare. Combined with at times bulky enemies, this aspect of the game can be rather annoying.

Unfortunately, the game’s progression can require a bit of extra work. The EXP granted from defeating enemies is typically merely a fraction of the EXP gained in a quest. Even then, much of the time completing a quest typically won’t give a level up even if your level is that suggested for the quest. What makes the issue worse is that you can only keep accessories and weapons found if you have successfully completed the quest. If you are having a difficult time completing quests, either due to running out of lives or time, minimal progress will be made. Even if you can complete quests in one go, it feels like you have to do every quest available to even keep up with the level curve. It would be best if enemies gave better EXP as to not have players feel they have to grind slowly to level up or do every quest imaginable just to complete the game.

Graphically, this is one of the best looking sprite based titles I’ve seen in quite a while. This came as no surprise to me when I found that the character designer was Toru Nakayama, known for his work on the Megaman Zero franchise. Throw in graphics designer Hirokatsu Maeda, who worked on the Gunvolt series and Blaster Master Zero, and it’s no wonder Dragon Marked for Death looks amazing.

The character designs are richly detailed and you can customize your avatar with a few colors. Enemy models are equally impressive, especially some of the bosses. That first big ogre you fight is massive and he bites the head off some guy right off the bat. I think the most impressive thing are the actual levels themselves. Some span many areas, from forest to caves, and onward to castle interiors. They are all masterfully crafted and look amazing. It really makes you want to explore each level thoroughly, not to loot items, but to take in all the amazing level design.

The soundtrack here is top notch. Most of the tracks are a mix of something you’d find in a medieval fantasy movie and a classic samurai film. The two styles mix together very well, and I found myself humming along often as I laid waste to all of the foes before me. The sound effects are pretty much what you would expect for a title like this, and you can customize the voice of your created avatar. While a few more voice choices would’ve been welcome, there is enough here to get the job done.

Combat here is your typical side scrolling hack ‘n slash. You will run around slicing up all enemies in your path. You do have some dragon skills that will allow you to do things like guard attacks, gives you some buffs or restore a bit of HP. You can also hold down the attack button to charge up for larger attacks. These usually cover more ground and do lots of damage. The odds are very much stacked against you most of the time. This is where the items you brought with you really save your bacon. The enemies will also drop some items that may fix your status aliments, give buffs or maybe even restore a bit of HP. This is all about luck and ironically, your luck stat plays into how often you get drops.

Now, this game is meant to be played with other players. Indeed, the game is best played with other people as it makes the time limit and bulky enemies much less of an issue. Having played with another online, it’s safe to say that the game runs smoothly as ever with very few issues. There was rarely a hint of lag while playing, not to mention the game’s balance became much more appropriate. That said, there were times where the other player would just disappear from the screen but was still registered on the minimap. This hasn’t affected the gameplay at all, but it was a notable visual issue hinting at an improper connection. The main issue in the end however is not so much the multiplayer itself, but rather that the game is specifically balanced around multiplayer. This is why single player is not as balanced. What could’ve been done is that if played in single player, the game merely auto-adjusts values to level the playing field.

The problem I found with the fighter classes is they simply take too much damage. The weapons have little range, so you have to be up close and personal with monsters to take them out. You do way more damage than the ranged fighters, but item management and effective dodging are very much key to staying alive. Though in general, this game is not really all that much fun in single player because of the difficulty. I highly recommended you play this one with friends via local multiplayer or the internet. Having even just one more party member that is ranged class makes a huge difference. You basically cancel out each others weaknesses and can fight as one well-oiled machine. Marisa and I played this quite a bit online and there was zero lag, and we had no issues finding each other to party up. Honestly, this is one of the smoothest online experiences I’ve had.

While I think Dragon Marked for Death isn’t balanced very well for a single player game, I think the online play more than makes up for that. There is a ton of quest variety, the levels have tons of depth and the game is just simply a blast to play with a friend. I’m not even a big fan of multiplayer games like this, and if I had more time I’d still be playing right now. I think the amount of quests here and replay value more than justify the inexpensive entry price, and hack and slash fans should grab a friend and be all over this one.

[easyreview cat1title=”Overall” cat1detail=”” cat1rating=”4.0″]

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Game provided by the publisher for review purposes.

REVIEW: Dragon Marked for Death Title Dragon Marked for Death

#Action RPG #Dragon Marked for Death #Inti Creates #Sprite Work

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robininthelabyrinth · 7 years ago

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Nocturne (FFXV) - 1/30

Fic: Nocturne (1/30) - Ao3 Link

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Pairings: Mostly Gen (variety later to come)

Summary: In which Cor Leonis loses his temper, accidentally acquires a kid, and tries to single-handedly dismantle the Lucian immigration system – and that’s before he and his lawyers find out about this Prophecy business. If the Astrals think Cor’s going to let his kid’s best friend die without a fight, they’ve gotten the wrong cheetah ‘taur.

(a young adult novel set in @kickingshoes' 'taur AU)

A/N: Some background almost certainly necessary here for those who aren't yet familiar with @kickingshoes' wonderful 'taur AU:

In this AU, everyone in FFXV is a 'taur of some sort, 'taur being short for "centaur" but not limited to horses: there are cattaurs, dog-taurs, deer-taurs, the traditional horse-taurs, etc. Each 'taur has a human head, arms and torso extending up from the bend in the spine, and the lower half of some sort of animal, including all four legs and tail. See the art for that here!

They've even gone ahead and create anatomical drawings for the 'taurs, including interesting features such as two hearts: one located in the "human" chest (the supernal heart) and one located in the "animal" body (the infernal heart). See the art for that here!

For context: a 'taur baby is called a "kitling" (general term) or after their type (kittens, puppies, etc.), then they grow up into being children, and then teenagers, and then adults.

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A seat on the King’s Council is a rare privilege, typically given to individuals who have given many years of service to the royal family of Lucis. An offer to take a seat at the Council is more than a mere honor – it is a request to share one's wisdom and experience with the King and so, in turn, with Lucis itself. It is a position of both power and influence, and of great prestige, and it is widely coveted by those who would be in the center of the seat of power. Wise kings of the past have sought to protect the Council from those who would befriend young and impressionable Princes in search of a seat at the table, decreeing that only those with a minimum of a decade of extraordinary service to the Crown would be permitted to join the august body.

Unfortunately, they didn’t really account for the problem of prodigies.

After all, if one counts his years first in the Crownsguard, then as part of the personal bodyguard of King Mors, then as the personal bodyguard of Prince, later King, Regis, and now most recently in his appointment as Marshal of the Crownsguard, there is no question that Cor Leonis, nicknamed "The Immortal", has served the throne loyally and with distinction for the required ten year period, despite the fact that he is currently still only twenty-three, and a young-looking twenty-three at that.

Indeed, although there was some grumbling about his age, mostly from the older scions of the nobility, there was widespread approval among the populace when the news spread that their beloved Immortal would be joining the Council: his skill at fighting, now honed by caution and discretion after his experience in the Tempering Grounds; his extraordinary and intuitive grasp of tactics and strategy; and his surprising talents in the management and organization of armies were all considered extremely valuable additions to the Council’s wisdom.

It’s just that Clarus sometimes wishes his young friend had learned a little bit more diplomacy alongside his undeniable martial skills.

“You’ve got me all wrong,” Cor says mildly, his hands laced together in front of him. His manner is easy, his shoulders relaxed, his face habitually stern but almost casually neutral; if Clarus had never seen Cor mid-battle, that same expression of mild concentration on his face as his sword destroyed the enemy, he might even be deluded into thinking that Cor is just making friendly conversation. Unfortunately, Clarus does know better. “Entirely wrong, even. It’s not that I have a problem with taxonomy – after all, as we all know, there are many benefits to classifying species, both sentient and non-sentient, natural and daemonic, by easily identified typological traits –”

The esteemed Councilor Cor is speaking with – Taceo Dovinius, who was appointed in the days of King Mors and who has not ever seen Cor fight – looks pleased by what he mistakenly thinks is acquiescence, smiling condescendingly at his younger colleague across the table.

“– it’s just that I think it’s a crock of shit,” Cor concludes.

The smile vanishes.

“Listen here, young kit,” Taceo snaps, “you might think that you’re some hotshot because you can swing a sword well, but swinging a sword doesn’t change the facts of the world: the people of Lucis are felidaetaurs, or cattaurs, the upright taurus cousins of the family Felidae, while our sworn enemies of Niflheim are canidaetaurs, or dogtaurs, who are more akin to the family Canidae, and as anyone can tell from looking at nature itself –”

“Yes, yes, we’re cats, they’re dogs, ‘fighting like cats and dog’ is axiomatic, I’m familiar,” Cor says, his calm voice cutting through Taceo’s rising voice as sharply as his sword would. “But that’s irrelevant, and not just because the scientific community has largely replaced the Felidae classification with Feliformia and Canidae with Caniformia. It’s irrelevant because it is absolutely useless for making any determinations about sentient individuals such as ‘taurs. A person with the hindquarters of a cat can be a traitor and one with those of a dog a friend, if that’s what they decide to be; that’s what sentience means. And even if you were planning on going entirely by pure animal taxonomy, there’s no system of classification that even makes any rational sense – would you condemn every person with the legs of a fox as an enemy, and accept every hyena as a friend, just because that’s how science has arbitrarily broken them down? Why do we get the mongooses and the civets, and they the weasels and raccoons? And what does any of that say about our ungulaetaur friends from Tenebrae, with their goats and deer and elks? Where do they fall?”

“You’re splitting hairs,” Taceo snaps.

“Hardly,” Cor says. “Since your proposal is that we differentiate our treatment of individuals based on the species they resemble – indeed, not merely their treatment but their access to the very rights to which they are entitled under the Charter of Lucis – and given both the known arbitrariness of nature itself and the historical unreliability of taxonomical science, my question is quite to the point: who, exactly, should be entitled to make so important a decision as to which person is classified as what?”

Taceo has gone pale with rage. “Our taxonomists –”

“Oh, taxonomists,” Cor says, and for the first time his voice is actively scornful. “Yes, they know so much, don’t they, with their always excellent classification that always right on the first try, and never any issues. Is that right? Or need I remind you of my own history with taxonomists?”

Clarus winces, as do many of the others at the table.

It’s all rather notorious now, of course. Being born (or at least, found) within the Crown City, Cor, a foundling orphan left on the doorsteps of the city foster home, had been immediately taken to the nearest hospital to be given the standard taxonomic analysis.

The taxonomic analysis program has its origins in the insurance system, given the fact that different ‘taur breeds often have vastly different medical requirements even within the same family or sub-family. After all, genetic drift and mutations exist: a pair of felidaetaurs would generally have a felidaetaur child, of course, but while it is still common for a two-tiger pair like Clarus and his wife to have another tiger as a child, or two lynxes a lynx, it is perfectly possible for a child of two species-alike parents to come out as a different felideataur species entirely, like a bobcat or a puma. Even if you exclusively married other ‘taurs of the same felidaetaur breed and had for generations, you could end up having a different-breed felidaetaur child, just because of the drift. After all, even the Lucis Caelum line, which is rather famously almost all lions and almost always married other lions, has supposedly sometimes produced a non-lion child that modern genetic tests confirmed to be their own natural child.

The insurance system therefore developed taxonomic analysis as a method of testing for and classifying species at birth. The system became even more popular once the scientists definitively established that ‘taurs are not bound by any cross-species breeding restrictions the way that their animal cousins are, enabling any 'taur of any variety to have children with any other variety of 'taur, and, around the same time, any remaining legal prejudice against mixed-species relationships was definitively eliminated. Of course, in the face of all scientific knowledge, such prejudice hasn’t entirely disappeared as a cultural phenomenon – a lingering bigotry of a less enlightened age, when genetic drift wasn't as well understood and paternity tests were not trusted as much as they should have been, and there were accusations of infidelity every time a ‘taur came out a different type.

Of course, the principles of genetic dominance means that a mixed-species child will look like a single animal species, no matter how mixed, and will generally take wholly after one parent or the other in terms of their appearance, but that just means there is even more of a chance of species variation – Clarus’ own mother was a bear, as it happened, but he himself took after his father the tiger, and he married another tiger in his wife Cyrella, and his son Gladio is also a tiger despite there being a decent chance of him being a bear like his grandmother. While mixed-species relationships are still a minority, they are a sizeable one, and have been for generations and generations, and that means that no matter what you are or who you marry, you could end up with a surprise.

Given that, and given the wide range of medical treatments – not to mention medical insurance requirements – that depended on knowing what your little kitling is from the moment of birth, the taxonomic analysis is therefore considered crucial. Even though the kitlings and, later, children who are so classified run the risk of being stereotyped simply because of their classification, parents regularly opt for analysis in order to better prepare for the future, especially as Insomnia grows increasingly more cosmopolitan.

And so the taxonomic analysis system remains in place, with all of its benefits and drawbacks.

In Cor’s case, of course, it was mostly drawbacks.

At the time of his initial testing, Cor was stamped with the standard Felis catus taurus (domestic housecat 'taur) designation that the majority of the population of Lucis has – out of sheer laziness, Clarus presumes, since well before the time Cor was officially re-tested at age fifteen, it was obvious to everyone with a pair of eyes that he was actually an Acinonyx jubatus taurus, the far rarer (indeed, almost unheard of) cheetah ‘taur.

It might not have been such a big deal if Cor wasn’t quite so famous: the great prodigy of the Crownsguard and, by the age of fifteen, already starting to be widely known as the Immortal for his daring, almost suicidal feats of bravery and his equally amazing ability to survive them. Indeed, if Cor had been any other child, growing up in relative poverty as he had, he likely wouldn’t have had any choice but to take what he was initially offered: his designation quietly changed on the books without anyone in the medical or insurance industries having to admit that they’d made a mistake and thereby open the door to incurring liability.

But Cor was not any other child, and he was not exactly inclined to take insults lying down – especially not at fifteen, mere months before he’d gone to the Tempering Grounds, back when he’d been a regular firecracker, hotheaded and rash and so very, very angry at the world. After all, he’d received years and years of incorrect medical care as a result of his misclassification; worse, his foster parents had turned him out of their house when the expense of his medical requirements turned out to be considerably greater than what was allowed for under his category of insurance, and he’d lived for some months (no one is quite certain as to the exact timeline, and Cor won’t say a word about it) on the streets of Insomnia before he’d forced his way into the Crownsguard by lying about his age and only revealing the (incredibly obvious) truth when he’d already beaten the tests and defeated four current Crownsguard members in one-on-one duels. So instead of simply agreeing to a change of classification, he’d demanded an official recognition of his misclassification.

A court-sanctioned recognition.

The medical and insurance industries had (unwisely) decided that instead of admitting the mistake and opening the door to future suits by misclassified individuals, they would simply refuse to reclassify him, arguing instead that they’d been right the whole time and that he was actually simply a spotted tabby with a peculiar resemblance to a cheetah.

It was a scandal, of course; the entire city was appalled at the obvious untruth being spouted by otherwise respectable doctors, especially with Cor visibly growing into the so-characteristic spots and infamous speed of his species. It didn't help that Cor, being a foundling, was surnamed Leonis, the traditional foundling surname in honor of the royal family of Lucis (all lions, of course).

A cheetah named after a lion being misclassified as a housecat? The political cartoons all but drew themselves.

Realizing belatedly that they had seriously thrown their own credibility into jeopardy, the medical and insurance agencies quickly retracted the argument, but the damage was done and Cor’s lawyers proceeded to definitively rip them apart in court.

All together, that history makes for a pretty strong argument against Taceo’s profiling proposal on Cor’s part, especially given the fact that Cor virtually never makes reference to his past in any context, much less as a rhetorical argument. In fact, Clarus doesn’t think Cor has so much as mentioned the lawsuit since the day he won an unconditional victory in the courthouses.

Taceo seems to realize that he’s losing his audience, as many of the other Councilors are nodding in agreement with Cor, so he quickly says, “You misunderstand the nature of my proposal, young Marshal –”

“Just Marshal is fine,” Cor says, his voice reverting back to pleasant. “You lost all rights to refer to my age when you called me a kitten. But please, do go on.”

“You act as though I were suggesting that we rely exclusively on speciesist assumptions and stereotypes,” Taceo says, pretending as though he hasn’t heard the interruption. “Nothing could be further from the truth! I merely suggest that given the limits of our resources and the well-known fact that our enemy is largely canine, that we focus our security forces on examining individuals with canine characteristics –”

Cor arches his eyebrows. “Still sounds a lot like discriminatory stereotyping to me, oddly enough,” he drawls. “You’re aware, of course, of the large numbers of refugees that have come to our city are canidaetaurs?”

“That’s precisely my point!” Taceo exclaims. “The influx of refugees is a perfect opportunity for a Niflheim spy to –”

“If I were an idiot,” Cor says flatly, “and I assure you I’m not, even then I would still have the bright idea of seeking out my spies via the usual method of recruiting dissatisfied individuals already living here instead of trying to sneak them in as refugees – without money, without food, hurt and alone and having lost everything. Your suggestion is little more than anti-immigrant bigotry dressed up for public consumption.”

“Now listen here, you impertinent little youngster – ” Taceo starts.

“Cor,” Regis says from the head of the table. “That was uncalled for.”

Cor bows his head. “You are correct, of course,” he says. “I spoke too hastily. The fact that the idea is based on no science, no reasonable rationale, and would undoubtedly result in increased internal strife within the city boundaries is obviously no reason why we should not continue to entertain the idea suggested by Councilor Taedeo –”

“Taceo!” Taceo roars, rearing back on his haunches.

“Really?” Cor asks, blinking. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Clarus very nearly chokes trying to keep himself from laughing. The root of Taceo’s name comes from the old word for ‘silent’, while the similar-sounding ‘taedeo’ originates from the word for ‘disgusting’; a fact that Cor is well aware of, given that as a teenager, he briefly all but moved into the library to make up for his missed education, at least whenever he wasn’t on the training field.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Regis says quickly, though Clarus can tell from the way that his lips are pressed together that he’s also having trouble keeping from laughing. He rises, his lion's tail flicking majestically behind him, and everyone automatically rises as well. “Our time is up, and unfortunately I have another appointment following this one. Perhaps we can take up the subject again next week?”

Cor smiles with teeth, his hands behind his back in military style. “Certainly, your Majesty. Anytime.”

Taceo stalks off with stiff legs, his wildcat tail stiff with anger; the other Councilors disperse as well, most of them shaking their heads in amusement or disapproval, depending on where their politics fall. Cor heads off back to the Crownsguard grounds without another word, shrugging off the traditional Council cloak almost before he reaches the door.

Regis nods at Clarus before heading back towards the throne room, an obvious hint, and Clarus falls into step beside his king. They’re of a size – Regis is, of course, a lion, and Clarus a tiger – and it makes it a little easier than it might have otherwise been. Of course, ‘taur physiology means that no matter what species make up their lower halves, people are generally proportionate to their upright humanoid halves, typically ranging between five to six feet tall, but Clarus distinctly remembers how annoying Cid found the casual walk-and-talk style generally prevalent in Insomnia, his jackrabbit stride being totally out of sync with their relaxed feline prowl. While that certainly wasn’t the reason he was no longer really talking with them, Clarus can’t help but think it might have contributed to his decision never to visit, at least a little.

“What do you think?” Regis asks.

“Of Taceo’s proposal to focus our security on profiling canidaetaurs? Absurd, of course; the second Niflheim got wind of any such rule, no matter how secretly implemented, they would double their efforts to conquer territory which is primarily felidaetaur, and we obviously don’t want that. Not to mention the effect it would have on morale in the local non-felidaetaur population –”

“I meant Cor,” Regis says, amused. “I’m aware of the flaws in Taceo’s proposal.”

“What about Cor?”

“He was speaking,” Regis says. “Quite a bit, if you’ve noticed; I think the amount of words he uttered in session today is about equal to everything he said the first month he was assigned to travel with us.”

Clarus doesn’t disagree. Cor tends towards silence, most of the time, whether due to shyness, as it was when he was just a kit of fifteen, following along and trying to protect a group of 'taurs at least ten years his senior, or to sternness, as after his experiences in the Tempering Grounds. The only exception is when he loses that fiery temper of his – rarer after his experience with the Tempering Grounds, but definitely not gone for good.

Still, Clarus isn’t sure what Regis is getting at.

“He has good reason to be especially bothered by proposals that hinge on classification,” Clarus points out.

“Bothered, yes,” Regis says. “But such a proposal has no room in my kingdom and he knows it. There was no reason for such an outsized reaction.”

“You have a theory,” Clarus interprets. He knows his friend well.

“I have a theory,” Regis agrees.

“Would you be interested in sharing that theory?”

Regis snorts. “He’s twenty-three, Clarus.”

“So?”

“Do you remember being twenty-three?” Regis asks. “When all those adolescent hormones have finally started evening out –”

“He would’ve told us if he was going to go into a premature heat,” Clarus hisses, face flushing. “Honestly, Regis!”

“I’m not concerned about his heat schedule,” Regis says dismissively. “Besides, you know for a fact he wouldn’t tell us a thing about it – you remember that time with the mesmenir den in Duscae?”

“Six, do I remember Duscae,” Clarus mutters, conceding the point: Cor had technically been on heat-leave at the time, bedding down in an abandoned mesmenir den while they continued onwards, but that hadn’t stopped him from going straight into battle against the Niflheim forces in the area when they’d ambushed the rest of the party, and never mind that it had made him the target of every single Niflheim soldier out there. Yes, his intervention was likely the only reason they’d survived that particular ambush, but still…“Then what are you suggesting, Regis? Stop pussyfooting around the issue already.”

Regis rolls his eyes at Clarus. “He’s the only one of us without a mate or a child, Clarus. I have Aulea and Noctis, you have your lovely Cyrella and little Gladiolus – Six, Cid has a granddaughter already. And Cor certainly doesn’t mind playing with them when we’re having dinner, for all that he likes to loudly claim an inability to understand how children function.”

“Weskham doesn’t have kids, if I recall,” Clarus grumbles, though now that he thinks about it, Cor has been vaguely antsy recently, in what could be interpreted as a courting-season sort of way but is probably, in Clarus’ view, more of a Cor-sometimes-loses-his-temper sort of way. “I take your point. But I thought that Cor isn’t interested in courting?”

“He’s not yet, according to him,” Regis says dryly. “That doesn’t mean his biological clock hasn’t started in on him – and you know how his anxiety issues act up when he’s dealing with his body doing things he doesn’t agree with.”

Clarus makes a face. Cor is perhaps typical for a cheetah, brutally efficient and terrifyingly fast, but paying the price in heightened perceptiveness that often manifests as severe anxiety. When Cor is anxious, he doesn’t eat; when he doesn’t eat, he's grouchy; when he's grouchy, he snaps at people – much like he did in the Council chamber earlier today.

Damn, it probably is an anxiety issue. And yet the stupid ‘taur refuses to see a regular shrink about a single one of his issues, despite being dragged to a first visit with at least half a dozen in the last few years. Not that Clarus could really blame him, what with his experience with doctors…

It doesn’t mean the rest of them don’t worry about him, as his friends and colleagues. Or, for Regis, as his king.

“He’s too young for baby kitlings, anyway,” Clarus adds, still grumbling and unwilling to admit he missed this. “Not counting Cid, who had kitlings before we ever met him, the oldest one Cor knows is my Gladio, and he’s only two. And we’re both well over ten years older than him!”

“Only twelve years, Clarus; we’re not ancient. Regardless, he’s a cheetah; you know what they say –”

“Fast to grow, fast to bed; fast to run, fast to wed,” Clarus recites the old poem with an eyeroll. “Didn’t we just get out of a meeting discussing why we should not apply traditional species-based stereotypes to people? You just want it to be all about romance, you old tomcat.”

“Says the person who keeps trying to pair him up with company for the Chocobo Festival?”

Clarus coughs. “Enjoying some pleasant company and having a mate are two totally separate things,” he says archly. “A ‘taur’s needs are not all intellectual upper heart, you know; the secondary lower heart, the animal instinct, also needs to be satisfied…have you considered that he may just be lonely, Regis, and not necessarily for want of a mate? There aren’t many other cheetahs in the city – and none quite like him.”

“Perhaps,” Regis concedes. “But at any rate, we need to do something about it. Get him to exercise all that restlessness out, something like that.”

“Exercise,” Clarus says dryly. “The head of the Crownsguard doesn’t get enough exercise.”

Regis makes a face. “Oh, you know what I mean.”

They enter the throne room. Instead of going to the throne, Regis heads towards the windows overlooking the Crownsguard training arena. Clarus joins him and looks down to where Cor is – well, to be frank, where Cor is kicking the ass of ten highly regarded Crownsguard.

At once.

“He’s going to be unpopular if he keeps up with that,” Clarus observes.

“I know,” Regis says with a sigh. “Perhaps some time outside the Wall will do him good.”

“You just named him the Marshal of the Crownsguard,” Clarus reminds Regis. “You can’t just reassign him.”

“Not reassign him, no. Perhaps a covert mission of some variety...?”

Clarus snorts. “That’s a terrible reason to send someone on a covert mission,” he warns, but he can already feel himself giving in. He’s always been protective of Cor, ever since old King Mors had come back from his travels with an overgrown fluffball at his side as his bodyguard, of all preposterous things; Clarus hadn’t believed it until Cor had demonstrated at some length why Clarus ought to let Cor guard him instead of the other way around. Clarus still secretly thought it more than a little ridiculous; ridiculous prodigy or not, best fighter in the kingdom or not, thirteen years old is far too young to be on the front lines of a war. “Very well; we can pick a mission for him to go on, something reasonable…hmm. We did get that one letter from Niflheim, do you recall – the one about the factories?”

“Didn’t we think it was some sort of trap?”

“We thought it was likely a trap of some sort, yes,” Clarus agrees. “But this is Cor we’re talking about. He can be trusted to scout out the situation fully before going in.”

“And very likely to survive coming out,” Regis says wryly. “If anyone ever finds out we sent him on another death-defying, impossible-to-survive mission, he’ll never get that Immortal nickname off of him.”

“He’s never getting rid of that nickname anyway. If we send him solo with - at most - some back-up within radio distance, he’ll at least avoid being afraid that everyone around him will die,” Clarus says. “Again.”

“It’s not his fault he’s so much faster than everyone around him,” Regis sighs. “It’s just the way he was born, and how talented he is; anyone else would have died along with their squad. He’s not somehow to blame because he survived where they didn’t, no matter what he might think. Do check with the Crownsguard that he’s been eating enough, will you?”

“You already know he won’t be,” Clarus says gently. “But I’ll tell him he can’t ship out unless he eats a full meal.”

“That’ll be something, at least,” Regis says. He shakes his head and pads up onto the throne, settling in for his next meeting. “Very well, we're agreed; let's send him out. Do remind him to be cautious about it, will you?”

“Don’t worry,” Clarus says firmly. “He won’t do anything rash.”

#final fantasy xv #cor leonis #regis lucis caelum #clarus amicitia #nocturne #my fic #I hope people enjoy this!

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saeneras · 7 years ago

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Samurai Love Ballad x Game of Thrones AU

Nobunaga - House Lannister

Many shiver in fear when they hear the name of this clan. A conquest started by a father, then passed down to his son. Older retainers whisper about the soft hearted of the young boy and his tears.Now this red haired boy commands the most wealthy and most powerful House in all of Japan thus far thanks to his powerful armies, the riches from his conquests, his use of a puppet Shogun (similarly how the “Baratheons” on the throne after Robert’s death were the puppets of the Lannisters.) and his brilliant strategies that have brought his enemies to heel. He is always happy to repay his debts whether it be in the care and riches to the men and women who serve him loyally or in blood and misery to the ones who work against him even to his own family he will repay, going as far as to kill his own brother. To many he is a villain but he sees it as himself being a hero, a hero that the country deserves. In wars men must die but if you oppose the Oda, all of yours must die.

Mitsuhide - Hand of the King

The Akechi are a more quiet house, breaking away from their main clan after they fell and were exterminated mostly by Nobunaga’s father, they Oda have taken Mitsuhide as one of their own. What was left of his house now serves the Oda. Lord Mitsuhide has to be the thorn in Lord Oda’s side, reminding him to go to war councils and being his voice of reason. However the young lord has to be somewhat manipulative and know how to wade through the blood of this game for both himself and his Lord. Despite him being a polite, courteous and compassionate man, those around him don’t know what he is really thinking or what he is truly up to. He heavily disagrees which the merciless ways of his Lord as it reminds him of his clan’s demise so no one really knows how long he can take before he ends up taking matters into his own hands.

Yukimura - House Tully

Family, duty and honor are words helives by. A young warrior in duty to the Takeda. He has grown up around the likes of Takeda Shingen and Saizo further honing his skills as warrior but surprisingly not his skills a cassanova. He loves his family greatly, mainly his brother, father and deceased mother even though the task of furthering the line goes to his brother he is very wary of having children because of what happened to his mother. Yukimura is sweet in nature but knows it is his duty to kill and bring honour upon the Sanada name and that of his beloved Lord.

Saizo - Faceless Man

His birth and origins are mysterious, he born in a village no one is sure of it’s existence or the existence of the Temple of Black and White that is said to be present at Iga. Some say only those with a strong will to die can see this temple. No one is sure if Saizo is even his real name given most of the Faceless Ninja shed their identity when they graduate. Saizo’s first job at the temple was giving poisoned water to those who truly wanted to die. To the young boy it was a traumatizing ordeal. He finally became a full fledged assassin of the temple when he killed his best friend. Upon leaving he works for the village with the Temple governing his kills.

Masamune - House Targaryen

Born in to a legendary clan that has mounted and tamed dragons that led to the rise of their name before the beasts went extinct a century before he was born. Since the loss of their beloved beasts the Date has stayed relatively quiet and not considered a threat by the southern houses vying for power. Masamune was always abused by his mother because of his eyes. As a child his father gave him three egg shaped decorations, one blue, one bronze and one green. “Never be ashamed of how you were born.” he told his son. The young lord always took care of these because he assumed his father meant these gifts as a comfort to him. Upon meeting his MC, he notices a large crack in the bronze egg and when his father died, the other became cracked as well. On instinct he carried them into battle and lay them on the fields where many were soon to die. Among the blood and corpses, three dragons emerged. He names the blue dragon after Kojuro (who insisted it be named Bontenmaru), the green after his younger brother and the bronze one after his MC. He soon realized that the one born into the Date clan with two coloured eyes, was the one prophesied to bring dragons back into the world, his mother knew hence she abused him because it was not her favorite son who would become the Dragonlord.

Kojuro - House Stark

Bound by honor and loyalty, his forefathers bowed to the Dragonlord of the Date, years ago and to this day he still serves his Lord to a point he will die for him if needed. At first the Oda sent him gifts in hopes he would come to their side when he refused, he was summoned and commanded to commit seppuku which he narrowly escaped beforehand. Members of his house are blessed with the ability to warg however Kojuro hasn’t mastered it yet and can only do it on his pet turtle. Rumors are he once tried to warg a cat but it didn’t obey and scratched him hence his dislike for cats. One of Masamune’s dragons is named Kagetsu after his actual name despite Kojuro pleading for weeks to name the beast Bontenmaru. If Kojuro is alone with the dragon he will pet him and call him Bontenmaru, annoying Masamune when the creature starts responding to the name.

Hideyoshi - Kingsguard

Sworn to protect Lord Nobunaga he gave up his rights to guard his Lord at all times. However Nobunaga sees more value in his quick wit and charming nature. Something he isn’t shy about using on women mostly on the women Inuchiyo has. Should Nobunaga fall, his power passes on not to his hand but to his most trusted guard, something Akechi sees a slight. Hideyoshi has a great love for caramel candy and will often get rubked and have his stash thrown away by Mitsunari.

Inuchiyo - House Baratheon

The Storm Lord, armed with the black locks of a Maeda and a furious temper to match. Toshiie is a berserker known for wielding his trident and winning many key battles for the Oda. He currently not a the best terms with his sibling Toshimasa who’s health and the frivolous nature of his son Keiji makes the young Lord prematurely tale up the role of heir to Arako after spending many of his years as the adopted son of a common family working in their restaurant when he wasn’t off at war.

Ieyasu - House Baelish

Ieyasu was just a little, weak boy sold as a hostage and treated awfully by his hosts. In the dark cells and the meager life he lived, he promised the little boy inside of him that this will never happen again and that those who did this to him would be punished. He would one day be the one standing over their bodies and taking their hostages. He is armed with a beautiful smile that holds no good behind it. In a matter of years he has risen from being a hostage to being on Lord Oda’s greatest allies. His ruthless ways, skills in poisons and his infamous archery skills make him a valuable ally. His ability to manipulate and inspire fear in others behind his handsome baby face makes him a dangerous player in the game of thrones. He is one of Lord Oda’s trusted men even though he trusts nobody.

Mitsunari - Maester

Maester of the Toyotomi Clan. His mother cannot bear to look at him so he had to pretend to be a girl, Saki realizing he had no future doing this, he left. He has trained in a tower at Kyoto becoming one of the youngest to earn the links of his maester chain. He was the only one who knew the patience and reflection this profession brings him hence he was the only one to not light an obsidian candle earning him his final pass. Upon leaving that patience has worn away as he has to deal with the likes of Inuchiyo and Ieyasu. He is very knowledgeable about many different fields, war, finance, alchemy, even the dark arts but if you ask him about this he will surely tell you off.

Kenshin - House Tyrell

Once considered an outsider house they managed to take control of Echigo and under it’s ruler Lord Kenshin and Prince of Thorns Naoe Kanetsugu, the lands have become more productive and is able to export more goods to the capital. The people of this house are described as beautiful and lavish despite keeping a quiet note as well concerning the other clan’s and their wars. The Uesugi are not to be messed with, for all of their beauty there are thorns waiting. As words leaves the lips speaking of his beauty, in the same breath other’s talk of his prowess as the God of War. No one knows if their rivalry with the Takeda is what it is or if the Uesugi are just digging their roots, planting the seeds for another war to come.

Shingen - House Martell

Loved and adored by those in his homeland he is revered as a legendary fighter. He inspires loyalty, his men walk among a tiger who would never hurt them. He isn’t too concerned with morals and lets his servants be who they want and lay with who they want. They follow that tiger into wars and pledge their life for him. Those in Kai are well known to be hot blooded and Shingen is no less. He is known to have many paramours and even lays with the lovers of his paramours it is even rumored he has had trysts with Uesugi Kenshin. For all of his conquests he has refused brides sent to him by the Oda and other powerful houses. Shingen’s hotbloodedness is not just reserved for his bed but in his battles, he has ousted his father to take control of Kai and his forces are a pain to the Oda and their combined army at times

#Voltage inc #samurai love ballad party #slbp #voltage fandom #otome #voltage headcanon #slbpxgot #au

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5llowance · 5 years ago

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Hong Kong is a Test! (The Full Story) via /r/China

Hong Kong is a Test! (The Full Story)

– This is broken down into four parts elsewhere as well.

The Chinese Government Learn a Harsh Lesson in 1989 - The Art of War (Part 1):

You need to understand what is REALLY happening in Hong Kong! It’s not what it seems.

First, when you see May Day parades in communist countries or countries with hard line governments (Soviet Union, North Korea), you need to know some of the missiles and weapons being presented are basically cardboard fakes or items being held together with glue, or duct tape and a little paint.

Videos exist of weapons falling apart during training exercises; of sound effects being added to simulated weapons being fired and fakery of all kinds to make people think the soldiers of these various countries stand ready to do battle.

The problem is a group of causal events are coming to a head in China. These events are primarily led by the male-female ratio that came about as an Unintended Consequence of China’s attempt to reduce its population growth. This causes the entire problem and we’ll cover it last. First we need to get to Hong Kong:

Hong Kong is a test of the military, a test of the civilian leadership, the soldiers in the field and those in charge of the soldiers. It is an attempt to re-affirm the Tiananmen Square readiness of China’s soldiers and it is not looking good.

It is now late 2019. In 1989 a LARGE group of Chinese citizens learned first hand the list of freedoms their government claimed they had as Chinese citizens was a false construct. The Chinese’s PEOPLE’S Army murdered a large group of the Chinese people it had sworn to serve and protect. At that point it was revealed that no matter what else was written or said, the only thing the People’s Army served were the People Ruling China – PRC used to stand for People’s Republic of China.

Now it does not.

This was all learned in a square containing the Monument to the People’s Heroes, the Great Hall of the People, the National Museum of China, and the Mausoleum of Mao Zedong; all items which the leadership always claimed reflected the importance of the Chinese people in their country. A square in which the people learned they were not the important part of their country but rather just the carpet the leadership tread upon when needed.

Currently the events at Hong Kong are a test of the military as a follow-up to Tiananmen Square. Back when China was providing troops in Vietnam and Korea, they had an endless supply of men they could send into battle, with broken rifles or not. The farms and collectives contained enough starving, ignorant people, that when the trucks rolled in to round up new recruits, the farmers just treated it as another event in the doldrums of their lives. They jumped in the trucks as commanded, put on the newer clothes, grabbed the working or not working rifles, and then they were shipped or marched to the strongholds the (mostly American) resistance had in place in either Vietnam, Korea, Cambodia or wherever the Chinese military leaders needed bodies to lead into battle followed by the soldiers with working weapons.

Once on site, the poorly trained, poorly equipped former farmers rushed headlong into the American bullets in endless waves. More than one American squad leader reported his troops did not die because of superior soldiers but simply because the enemy never stopped coming! Troopers simply ran out of bullets and were overrun by the never ending sea of enemy combatants.

That was then. Move ahead to 1989 and the Tiananmen Square protests. A lot had changed in China. China was no longer an isolated super power but was now being bombarded by concepts and ideals that were at odds with Mao Zedong, one of the men who created and ruled Communist China from the beginning. Before he died, he had converted and transformed the country into a vast land of people who sheepishly did as they were told.

These new, outside influences corrupted the sheepish aspects of some of those able to taste other ideas and found non-state regulated concepts they wanted to explore; freedoms they, as members of the People’s Republic of China, wanted to adopt.

Sadly, these people discovered the army was no longer the People’s Army and were killed in a massive military wave.

BUT something happened in Tiananmen. Something that disturbed the Chinese leaders in a deep, deep way: One lone Chinaman stood up and stopped an advancing line of tanks. The lead tank in a convoy line of tanks refused to simply run down this lone citizen and a short stalemate resulted.

This startled the Chinese leadership. When the Leaders said “Jump” the result was that soldiers started jumping until they died or until they were told to stop. Suddenly it occurred to the Chinese leaders that they were not in as firm a command of their soldiers as they should have been.

They just ordered the massacre of the citizens in the square and yet here was a trooper’s refusal to kill one man. The leadership FORCED the army to jump when commanded to do so. Soldiers who refused to kill their fellow citizens were killed on the spot in front of the other soldiers.

This follows the lessons and writing of the Chinese War philosopher, Sun Tzu and his texts covering “The (Ancient) Art of War.” Legends says that in once instance, Sun Tzu claimed to the Emperor of China that in a month (or some set time period) he and a few hand picked soldiers could train 1,000 court “palace girls” to beat 1,000 of the Emperor’s troops. In the story, as Sun Tzu begins training the girls, he divides them into squads. Each squad chooses a leader. Sun Tzu gives all the squads a task to perform, a simple thing like building a mound of dirt or marching a set distance. The task is to be completed by the next morning.

Thinking this is all just a fun thing; the assigned tasks are not completed and the women just played around in their place.

The next morning, Sun Tzu has his leadership soldiers to summon all the “girl warriors” to the parade grounds and into their squads. He then orders the squad leaders to explain why the command given the previous day was not carried out. After listening to the excuses, he then orders his soldiers to chop the heads off the squad leaders’ right in front of the assembled “girl” troops. All the women are shaken and overwhelmed by what they have just seen. After the women are brought back to order, he orders each squad to choose a new leader and then gives the new squad leader the order to complete some simple task.

Each time a squad fails to complete a task, the squad leader is executed in front of her squad and a new leader is chosen,

Eventually a time comes when given tasks are completed. As the training continues, the women are trained in the Art of War and, using Sun Tzu’s methods, wipe out the Emperor’s troops when they are sent to battle each other.

The troopers who refused to attack the protesters in the square were executed on the spot, no questions ask. This “convinced” the other troops to destroy the protesters as instructed.

Thirty Years Later: 2019 in Hong Kong and Here Come the Men! (Part 2):

Now jump ahead 30 years from 1989 to 2019. China has problems: A HUGE number of problems. Like all corrupt governments, China is beginning to be eaten from the inside out by corrupt leaders and corrupt leadership practices. The flaws of any government structure grow and are magnified as time passes and the government grows.

China has many flaws, one of which, in the military’s eyes, the number of farmers is being overwhelmed by citizens who work in or support offices and business operations.

The military can no longer pull up transport trucks to a location and order the assembled men to jump into the truck to be delivered to battle. The needed men explain to those trying to gather up soldiers that the Wang Widget Report is due Monday morning and they can’t possibly go to war because if the Wang Widget Report doesn’t get filed, then Lee Larder Inventory won’t be completed, which means …

Which means the military cannot load up trucks like they used to.

In addition to this, these Men in Suits have seen Die Hard movies, Rambo flicks, and Jackie Chan action adventures. They know which end of the barrel a bullet comes out and they know when the weapon they’ve been given fails to work.

Finally, a farmer is used to walking 20 hours a day. These office workers cannot even walk for more than 30 minutes at a stretch.

The military may lack the bodies it once had. The bodies are there, but they are not the same simple, ignorant masses the Military once had at its beck and call.

Finally there’s the real reason for this event in Hong Kong and it’s not because of anything you think. All of the previous factors are adding to a HUGE problem China has coming:

The Boys are becoming Men!

Years ago, some smart people in China ran projections and realized that unless they did something drastic, the population of the country would soon overwhelm the entire structure.

In classic heavy handed fashion, the Chinese Leaders declared that all families would be restricted to one child each.

Then the Laws of Unintended Consequences kicked in.

First of all, China had outlawed religions. Religions are competitors to Communist, Socialist and Dictatorship governments. Religious people will do amazing things for an afterlife made of soft existence and every want taken care of. Thus the hardships of real life can be directly at odds with the commands of a religion and the religion will win.

"Cut off my head? Fine; I’ll laugh at you from Paradise."

With Religions gone, a lot of religious precepts went with it, like the outcomes of childbirth. Most religions consider children, all children, good things. Some children are more useful than others, but overall, you take a chance, God grants you a child and you run with it.

In China, the lack of God meant abortions are not considered as sinful as in a religious culture. Abortions are allowed. So when the parents learn the single allowed child growing in a womb is a girl and not a boy, the knives and coat hangers come out.

You see, in China girls are fine. They are fine cooks. They are fine cleaners. They sew pretty darn well and fetch water. And when it comes to making babies, they do so at an acceptable rate.

However, a man can plow a field, build you a home, fight off bandits, and, most important of all, they take care of you when you are old. When you marry off a girl, she leaves your family and when you get old and sick, she would be too busy caring for her husband’s family to care for you.

So it is better to have a boy fetus than a girl fetus and quicker than you can say “Roe verses Wade,” the unwanted girls fetuses are removed.

While this is not done universally in China, it is done with such frequency that there are a lot more males being born than females. This causes other problems. While it is widely believed that females pick their mates, it is forgotten that men choose which females to chase.

Suddenly not only does China have more boys than girls, but not all the girls are worth mating. So the ratio of boys to girls grows larger.

Suddenly the boys are becoming men. In addition to doing fake battles, young men want young girls. They want mates. They want to make babies!

But the river of girls is shallow. So the men do what comes naturally: They begin to battle other men for the right to impregnate the chosen woman. The men who have won the right before this naturally resist losing their hard fought for baby machines and battle back.

When men start battling each other, they usually look up the chain of command for a better spot to battle from and to defend their acquisition from others who desire the prize they have acquired, they look for a spot to defend “her” from others.

The Chinese government suddenly realizes that eventually these horny bastards will start looking at the Chinese Leaders as the cause of these problems and the Leadership realizes they need to solve the problem of too many men in a time honored way:

They need to kill off the males in a war.

China has TOO MANY MEN! China Needs a War! (Part 3):

China has too many men and it needs a war to kill off a large collection of them.

The problems are many: They lack warriors. They lack simple farmers easily controlled. They lack simple citizens who are unfamiliar with weapons. They lack men who will follow orders without question.

But how deep is the problem? How deep into the military does the corruption run and how deep into the military does the lack of controllable troops run?

“WE NEED A TEST!”

China needs a test location, but where? Military tests are best performed in-country and under controlled conditions. Outcomes need analyzed, processes need explored, troop readiness and control needs review. But where can the military conduct such actions in China without disrupting Chinese control of the various regions?

Where?

…

Hong Kong!

Assemble a good section of the army and send it to Hong Kong. We can judge our weapons, our command readiness, our troop strengths AND the ability to order our citizens into death while in uniform!

Unfortunately Chinese leaders are discovering the issues I’ve already mentioned: The weapons are fake, the soldiers unfit, the soldiers unwilling, and the leadership weak.

They also discover the citizens of Honk Kong are like those in Tiananmen Square multiplied by THOUSANDS! They are willing to fight to retain the freedoms they enjoy. They know the death they will suffer if they give in.

So they fight back.

…

And they will lose.

…

They WILL lose.

The Chinese Leadership, while learning about their own flaws, has something those in Hong Kong don’t: An endless supply of bodies to throw at the citizens of Hong Kong. There are still enough ignorant farmers in China that can be given new uniforms, broken weapons and taken to the Honk Kong border and sent into battle until they overwhelm the citizens of Hong Kong.

In War, Hong Kong will lose.

Hong Kong does have ONE weapon the Chinese Military lacks the skill to deal with. It is the one weapon those in Hong Kong might be able to use to survive and perhaps even win their battle.

The World Wide Web.

The people in Hong Kong have the internet and all the people of the world who see this as a one-dimension event: An Evil Central Government trying to oppress freedom loving citizens using brutal processes to do so.

But those in Hong Kong will still lose. China simply has TOO MANY men. Even importing slave girls from Vietnam and local other regions is not helping. Those women coming to China are not the pure women a horny, hunting man wants to find. These women coming from ‘Nam are cast offs, and cast offs for good reasons. The desirable women in 'Nam are already claimed and are difficult to acquire, difficult to successfully import.

China will still need a war to bleed off its male population after Hong Kong is resolved.

Hong Kong Is A Test! Preparation For WHERE? (Part 4):

So you see: Hong Kong is a test. It is a test of men, weapons, leadership and the ability of the Chinese Leaders to order men to march into death. It is a test to determine what corrective measures will be needed go to war AND it will determine what kind of meat grinder China needs to create.

That comes next. Once the cheers from defeating Hong Kong had subsided and the corrective measures are in place, China will begin looking for an absolutely irrational war to start. It will be a senseless war for the given reason, but a purposeful war for the needed reason: Kill off as many Chinese males as possible.

But where? Where will this next event take place? What are the options?

Taiwan? Yes, Mainland China has claimed Taiwan for decades. But Taiwan has so many protectors, including the United States, that invading Taiwan could REALLY produce some HUGE unintended consequences. Plus it is not accessible by land.

When shoveling men into a meat grinder, it works better when you do not have to use ships to move the men. Ships prevent the quick transportation of massive amounts of soldiers.

In addition to this, if you thought the Chinese land based equipment is in poor shape, you have no idea how much worse the navy is. Also, when a troop ship sinks you cannot measure which of those drowning troops would have been super soldiers and which would have been failures. The open sea tends to take both in equal amounts.

So Taiwan is dangerous for multiple reasons.

Japan? Yes, China owes Japan for many ancient insults and actions the Japanese committed against China. These events still enrage some Chinese leaders even in this day and age. But Japan has an even larger support base than Taiwan does and even more countries would defend it.

Japan is an even worse choice than Taiwan.

There is a list of things needed: There needs to be an opposing land based army. A country the Chinese troops could be marched into battle as one formidable army with a week’s worth of rations – the soldiers would strip additional meals off the fallen.

There needs to be a battle location in which man-to-man combat provides incentives and visible results that can be measured by the Chinese Government.

Second it would be handy if the country had a lot of ignorant citizen-farmers that could be constricted, be given worthless weapons and marched into battles without questions like China did decades ago.

It would also help if the country was still technically at war with someone.

Therefore, ladies and gentlemen, I give you my predictions and what is really going on:

Hong Kong is a test. It is a test of the military in preparation of China needing a sense of how easily it can bleed off its males in a senseless war.

After the results of Hong Kong, no matter what that those may be, China will start a senseless war. It will be a war in which (please listen closely) No Amount of Logic or Pleading Will Prevent.

After Hong Kong, China will start a senseless, bloody battle with:

South Korea.

The reason given will be over some small, senseless thing. Someone will fart during dinner. The salad fork will be placed on the wrong side of the plate. The South Korean president’s tie will be too wide.

No amount of begging, pleading or capitulation will prevent a massive, bloody invasion of troops from North Korea into the South. North Koreans will lead the very thin first wave, but they will be slaughtered as much by the Chinese behind them as the South Korean defenders in front of them.

And as soon as China has slaughtered enough of its males as need or has won as much land as is possible, the war will be suspended – under new conditions.

So: Hong Kong is a test to determine what is needed to invade South Korea so as to reduce the number of horny males in China who would, eventually, overthrow the current government.

***** ***** I Am Sielow, These are my words.

Submitted December 17, 2019 at 10:30AM by Sielow via reddit https://ift.tt/38HaFrU

#IFTTT #reddit

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chevygxrl-blog · 5 years ago

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Episode One - Who is Janessa Milliard?

I've realized recently that I hide so much of myself from the world and that's probably why the counseling isn't working as well as it should. I don't know if it's because I'm worried about judgement and people taking their distance from me or if it's just because I feel like it's unnecessary details of my life that people don't really need to know. I didn't ask to turn into this new persona but I guess if this is what my life is now, I might as well share who exactly Janessa Blaine Milliard is through the details that I am willing to share.

This is the part where I start on my past, right? Well okay. I wasn't always Janessa Milliard but until it is time for you to know who I was originally, this is all you will know me as. I was born in the country side of LaGrange, Georgia. Nothing fancy but a definite southern town full of sweet southern folks. My father was Chuck and my mother was Avery, last name again not an important detail to share. See what I mean? I hide so much from you and expect for my problems to go away just like that. But I guess if it helps bring my story together.. We'll just say our last name was Martin.

So here we are, the happy Martin family that people knew of us as on the outside. Close the curtains and we were the most distraught family in the whole town. My father was gone on missions as Chief of a local Motorcycle Gang called the Raptors and has been for many years, my mother the complete opposite. Surrounding areas knew her as the "lot lizard" because she'd give up anything for her only companion, drugs. When I turned 5 years of age, I started seeing less and less of them both. My father gone for weeks, even months and my mother always came stumbling in the door late with her new catch of the night. It was a very lonely life for a young girl and it was one that I didn't recommend for anyone and still wouldn't to this day.

The routine stayed the same until I hit late middle school, early high school. I was 13 years of age when my life changed for the worst. Every guy that my mother brought home were tired of her same antics and how loose and bruised her body had been ridden from the drugs and past partners. By this time, my own body had been developing and my inner beauty decided to flourish at it's best. I could even say that I was a gorgeous, young girl. Full of imagination and so much pure innocence until the night that that was taken from me. I should probably insert a trigger warning here but if you think you can handle it, then keep going.

This one night in particular is probably what haunts me to this day and if 13-year old Janessa knew about it then, she would've told you how much demons do exist in the world. Mom came home strung out like she usually did, the only difference being there were three men instead of the usual one. They sat around the living area, drinking and smoking and cutting up while they teased around with my mother. It was my fault, I knew better than to leave my room around the times that she came home. I desperately needed a drink of water and couldn't wait through the thumping and bumping to happen in order to get it. So I headed down the short set of stairs and into the kitchen, trying my best to keep the worn steps from squeaking beneath my small feet. The noise caught attention of one of the men once I reached the kitchen and looked for a clean cup. Of course, it's hard to keep the sound of running water silent enough to make a clean break for it.

One of the men got up from the couch and went to follow the sound. I made a quick and "light as a feather" break towards my bedroom once I heard some of the loud speaking halt, only to be grabbed by the arm and quickly turned around. The only memory I have of this person now is how rugged and dirty they looked because I try not to remember their faces just in case I have another one of my nightmares. He asked where I was going and I stayed quiet with a hard swallow, scared for my life. He smirked at me, the look of evil flushed that grin of his and his eyes looked like they could've turned into flames. He called his buddies from downstairs and told them to leave the hag alone, they liked this new kitten better. That kitten... Being me. I won't go into detail of what happened after this moment but I'm sure you can picture that exact moment of terror. My innocence was then taken from me before I could even enjoy the idea of it and at that point, I hated being me.

This became my life for the next few years. Of course it was the one long period of time that my father never made it home earlier to check on us, or me for that instance. In my silent cries for help, all I could think of was "Daddy, come find me". It wasn't until I was 16-years of age that he was able to return home from a huge war ordeal out East and it couldn't have been the best timing ever. I had just walked into the door from home, the men sitting on the porch like they waited for me to get off of the bus. I was then pushed down over the kitchen table right when my dad walked in. My tears changed from sorrowful to relieved. Him and a few more of the men from the gang tore the thugs apart like they were nothing and my mother went ballistic. The two fought while the men helped pack my bags and that was possibly the last that I had ever seen or heard from my poor excuse of a mother.

The Raptors were now my new family and protection and love is all that I had ever earned from them. The next few years included a lot of survival training to hold up my own and learning to ride and manage my own bike. I was promoted into being the Raptor Princess, under my father's reign because biker royalty existed nowadays. This is where I coined the nickname, Phoenix. Because it was believed that once destroyed, they rose from the ashes and became something new and better. I couldn't say that that didn't fit me the most in my current situation. I learned how to be a warrior, a fighter, and a healer in my times of need. But apparently the moving around from city to town wasn't enough for the motorcycle club.

I was maybe 24-years old by the time my life had another turning point and I was having to be sent up to the Northern territory. A messenger had came down to report no sightings of enemy gangs in the area, at least not yet. But let me back up and explain before you ask if there are just none of them there. In between the time of my training, we found out that the men that abused me at my young age were involved in gang activity as well. That should be enough to tell you the rest so let's fast back forward. This messenger was letting us know there were no sworn enemies of THAT kind, if that makes more sense. I was now asked to leave the war room while the men discussed the new plans. A few hours had passed of walking back and forth and trying to peep as much info as I could and they all finally came out. My father sat the whole clubhouse down for a chat and this is when my move to New York became to exist. Call it a Witness Protection pact through Raptor supervision. I was made to change my name, my personality, everything along with the move. I was no longer going to be referred to by my birth name but by Janessa Milliard, still sometimes coined as Phoenix. Everything I had been through and once knew were about to be deleted from history like it never even happened. But in my mind, I knew otherwise.

Here I am now, 26-years old and living the dream. I am now in a small studio apartment in Manhattan right next to my father's mechanic shop, that was well known as Rev's Bike Shop. Along with my many new trades and qualities, I was taught a lot about mechanic work so this worked out perfectly for me. I became someone who younger me wanted to be, wild and free and full of life and love. I found enjoyment in visiting the local nightlife scene and I have met many important people who I never see leaving. Even the person that was made to wait for me when I arrived became my closest friend, mostly because they were the only ones who knew my secrets. I've learned to love and love hard but eventually learned that it wasn't for me so I have chosen this free spirit lifestyle carefully. I was diagnosed with PTSD after a few months of arriving and now I even attend group counseling once a week. So much for a lot of that fun but at least I was able to be assigned a fur companion to accompany my outbreaks. Make sure if you see Sir William Dash, the sweetest Golden Retriever out there, to give him a wave. More than likely he'll be attached to my hip when I'm not out having a drink or two. This was the new me. This was Janessa Blaine Milliard, new and reinvented.

I hope my trip down memory lane kept you interested. I was assigned a dumb journal to keep up with my moments but that wasn't enough to get things off of my chest. I plan on doing more of these, just a little way to see how my day-to-days go and even travel back into the past through my favorite and not so favorite memories. Keep your eyes open for my "Thru My Eyes #2" coming soon.

#mymind

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woodworkingpastor · 5 years ago

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Telling the truth in a post-truth age Matthew 5:33-37 Sunday, November 3, 2019

I want to begin this morning with a question: When did it become acceptable to not tell the truth? I realize this is a foolish question—as if there is someone here who would say, “I know: it was a Thursday afternoon, around 2:30. The humidity was high that day; it was mostly sunny, but we were expecting storms that afternoon,” as if the moment when dishonesty became acceptable could be as vividly remembered as we do other tragic events.

We might not be able to pinpoint a time when telling the truth seemed to pass out of fashion, but there is an identifiable time when the editors of the Oxford Dictionaries decided that the word of the year for 2016 would be “post-truth.” This word describes situations where “objective facts are less influential in shaping public opinion than appeals to emotion and personal belief.”

There are several circumstances that started me thinking about truthfulness. The first was a series of posts on Facebook that simply were not true. What stood out to me about these posts was that the people making these posts are friends of mine who I know to be deeply committed Christians—people who are sincere in their faith and active participants in their congregations.

Because these people are my personal friends, I challenged them about these posts. In each case I said, “Have you checked the accuracy of this post? Because I looked into this, and what you are saying here is actually not true.” In each case, their reply was, “Well, that’s ok. I agree with the sentiment behind what is posted.” This is the very definition of “post-truth.” The content of their Facebook post appealed to their emotions and personal beliefs. The fact that they were actually repeating something that was untrue didn’t bother them.

The second circumstance came from articles I’ve read concerning sexual abuse and sexual misconduct scandals in the Catholic Church, Southern Baptist Church, and some high-profile mega-churches. The current issue of Sojourners includes an article by Wade Mullen who teaches organizational leadership and who has researched situations like these: how it is that in face of serious wrongdoing, churches chose to minimize and cover up instead of plainly telling the truth. In the article he describes a situation in a church where he served as youth pastor:

he learned the congregation had an abuser among their membership. When he reported the abuse that was happening within the congregation to his supervisor in accordance with state protocols, he was shocked when the church leadership dismissed it out of fear for what could happen to the institution. He was told, “Do you realize what reporting could do to that family? To this church? These stories could bring down this church.”

Protecting the reputation of the church became more important that the truth-telling of confession and reconciliation, and wounded people were essentially sacrificed so a reputation could be propped up.

When did it become acceptable to not tell the truth?

Not emphasizing this enough?

Looking at the Scripture this morning made me wonder if the church has assumed too much about telling the truth. Could we have been so focused on other topics that we’ve overlooked this one? Our text from Matthew 5:33-37 is surrounded by more famous passages that receive more attention in biblical commentaries, writing, and conferences and workshops:

Matthew 5:21-26 talks about anger and murder and reconciliation. We understand the significance of violent acts—be they through our words or our actions—so much that the Roanoke City Council established a task force to propose solutions to end gun violence.

Matthew 5:27-32 talks about lust and adultery and divorce. The church has long advocated for strong marriages, and it’s easy to imagine that if we were to have a weekend seminar on strengthening marriages, we would get many eager participants.

Matthew 5:38-48 are verses Brethren comment on frequently: non-retaliation, enemy love, peacemaking all get significant attention through sermons, studies, books, and conferences.

But almost hidden away in Matthew 5 amidst all the “tall trees” are these words on truthfulness: “Do not swear at all…let your word be ‘Yes, Yes’ or ‘No, No.’” There is no need to embellish our words; followers of Jesus simply say what they mean and mean what they say.

I’m not sure I recall a case where a church held a weekend conference on telling the truth, but with what I see in the situations described earlier, it seems like more attention to truth-telling is in order.

What does a commitment to telling the truth reveal?

Telling the truth reflects our belief in God

Stephen Carter, who is a Law professor at Yale University, reflects on what truth-telling reveals about our belief in God in his book Integrity. One of the courses he regularly teaches at Yale Law School is “Contracts.” In that class, he teaches his students that

there was a time under the English common law when one could defend against a suit to collect a debt by what was known as the wager of law. The defendant who chose to this would get his friends and neighbors to swear alongside him in the name of God that no money was owed; if these oaths were duly sworn, the court would give judgment for the defendant, and the plaintiff could not collect the debt.

In an earlier age, the defendant was allowed to choose the wager of battel. He could fight the plaintiff—or acquire a champion to do the fighting on his behalf—and God would grant victory to the one whose lawsuit was just…a tradition that continued into the early decades of the nineteenth century (Integrity, 107-8).

Carter says that his students never have difficulty understanding the wager of battel, because they see that something is at risk: real harm will ensue from this choice. But to go to the witness stand and swear in God’s name to tell the truth? Why would anyone do this? No risk seems to be involved. Just lie!

The reason the wager of law worked was because those who chose this option did believe something was at risk! They believed God would intervene if they were not truthful. No one in that day would dare lie—they feared the wrath of God, if not in this life, the certainly in the next.

Jesus’ words in Matthew 5:33-37 are somewhat related to this idea. We tell the truth because we believe in God. Not that we believe God will strike us dead for telling the lie. At the very least, I’d just once love to see someone’s pants actually catch on fire when they tell a lie. The point is that telling the truth reveals that we have committed ourselves to God’s ways of living and acting. We have no need to embellish our words by swearing an oath to convince others of our truthfulness, or to add strength to an argument. Disciples of Jesus speak simply and plainly, telling the truth, because we recognize that our lives are lived in the presence of God, and everything we do or say is to reflect that.

Telling the truth is essential to community life

I mentioned a moment ago that these verses on truth telling seemed tucked away in the middle of a lot of topics that seem to be more important. The thread that ties Matthew 5 together is that these are qualities that must be present for a close community to thrive. No relationship can last if there are unresolved conflicts, or unchallenged marital unfaithfulness, or dishonest relations, or an unbroken cycle of retaliation against our enemies. We can’t live that way.

As much as we value our individualism, ultimately our choices have an impact on others. Within the congregation we each have to consider how “my” choices impact all of us. What kind of church community would we be if we could only be certain of our truthfulness some of the time? What actually makes our truthfulness more guaranteed if we have a hand on a Bible? Is God any more present than God already is?

The old Brethren found these verses to describe an essential characteristic of their life—our trust in God is so great that we can simply tell the truth. God will work all things out in their own time. One example of this is the life of Cyrus Bomberger, one of the free ministers in the Spring Creek congregation in Lebanon County, PA. Brother Cyrus was so well-known for his commitment to telling the truth that when he took wagon loads of wheat to be sold, the miller told his workers that the did not need to examine what was in the bags. Just weigh them and pay him. Cyrus Bomberger was a man of his word.

Living in anxious times

In spite of all this, I think I understand my friend’s motivations for their inaccurate Facebook posts, and I get the fear behind church leaders who try to minimize damage to their congregations—even if both sets of behaviors are clearly wrong. We live in anxious times. So many things in our world are changing that it becomes easy in our anxiety to grab on to anything that seems to validate what we’ve believed for a long time.

We can see this a bit in the wooden people in the background of the slide. They’re not all alike; we can imagine each one having their own opinions and attitudes that might seem challenging to us. When we’re confronted with this, we are tempted to look for ideas that support our beliefs, and we hang on to them, even if we recognize something isn’t quite right about them.

Some of the most interesting reading I’ve done recently speaks to this “tribalism” we see in our culture. Some people use the terms “ingroup” (to describe us) and “outgroup” (to describe others). It is our human nature to view our ingroup in a favorable light, while we view the “outgroup” in a less favorable light. The people in our tribe are “interesting” and “diverse.” But the people in the other tribe are “all the same” and “just like that.”

But even if we are threatened by those of differing tribes, it does not diminish God’s presence in our lives. It does not make it impossible for us to honor God with our truthfulness. In speaking about such things, St. Augustine said “O Lord, deliver me from this lust of always vindicating myself.”

The simple fact is that it has never been acceptable to not tell the truth. We only need to find the courage to define our lives by our truthfulness.

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passportrequired · 7 years ago

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Rachel Travels + Why All Black Folk Should

What could easily be a pickup line from the slightly above average man to the regular-degular woman, was a simple understanding on my part of the life Rachel Hill is currently conquering, and with a smile no less. “When was your last home-cooked meal? Let’s make that happen for you and let’s unpack some things.” After walking miles through Havana, Chengdu, Beijing, Sydney, Cusco, and Martha’s Vineyard, playing catch up with her Bucket List, she threw on her favorite pair of house shoes with the fluffy insides, skinny fit swear pants, a sweater, and a head scarf to protect her against whatever elements she’d hit between her home and where she agreed to meet me. We’ve known each other for years, mostly me low-key crushing on her and her laughing at my foolish Facebook posts, and for two weeks of the year leading up to the Florida Classic, we become sworn enemies, her being a Rattler from Florida Agricultural and Mechanical University, and me a Wildcat from The Great Bethune-Cookman University. We’re back to the love just days after the game, and we continue building vertically. We’re at a point in our friendship where we don’t believe in the smoke and mirrors, makeup and good shoes when we connect. We’re amazingly comfortable.

Dorian Hannah-Wynn, one of my dearest and dopest friends in Atlanta, agreed to pull out his pots and pans and finally bless me and my Plus One with one of his Instagram famous breakfasts. Even though we weren’t so pretty, me in mismatched socks and durag with a hole by the right temple, Dorian promised the food would look amazing and probably should only be eaten by folks in gowns and tuxedos or boat shoes and khakis:

Ricotta + Berry French Toast Casserole Egg Stuffed Baked Tomatoes Yogurt Biscuits With Honey + Apple Butter Chocolate + Banana Quinoa Kiwi + Apple + Mint + Cucumber Smoothie

Rachel and I, still wiping away sand from our crevices from our recently visited warm destinations, sat close, hoping the warmth would bounce off one another in the 65 degree day Atlanta was forcing us to endure. Her feet tucked deeply into the couch, she missed Cuba, and I, Costa Rica. The first started in the kitchen, Dorian shouted, “I’ll cook at quickly as I can,” and Rachel and I began our interview, or rather a cool ass conversation between hungry friends who kept looking out of the window, wondering where we’d go next.

DARNELL: You were in corporate America, you were 27 years old. What was that thing that caused you to wake up and say, “fuck it, I’m out” and start this adventure you’re on? How did RachelTravels begin?

RACHEL: While I was in a corporate America, I had the life that society and most of our family and friends tell us we should have. I was making six figures, living in amazing cities, traveling on my two weeks of vacation, and had a lively social life. However, also had anxiety disorder and depression, which I didn’t find out til a little later, well into this life I was building. Every Wednesday during my lunch break, I would go see my therapist. And I was really ashamed of this and no one close to me knew. Here I am with “The Life” and I am suffering from…gasp…mental illness. After seeing a therapist in silence for over a year, I made the decision to leave my “good job.” I promised myself that living a life I didn’t design for myself wasn’t for me, so I said, “fuck it, I’m out!”

D: What were your immediate regrets once you chose this life over the other, if any/?

R: My only immediate regret at the time was that I didn’t jump sooner!

D: What bucket list item made you look up and be extremely grateful for the life you’re living?

R: Merely the fact that I am able to travel the world for a living, see amazing places, and meet wonderful people. That in itself keeps me extremely grateful and humble. I don’t take it lightly that I’m able to live in and walk in Purpose. I literally have my dream job.

D: There are those people who look at you with such admiration then say, “I wish I could do it.” What do you tell them?

R: I always tell people that you can do anything that you want to do. We all have the power and ability to create or re-create what we desire in our lives. So if this…or that, really… is what you want to do, create a solid plan and do it! However, I will also say, do not look at my social media or “highlight reels” without understanding the amount of sacrifice I’ve made in order to get to this particular place on this journey.

D: Have you ever fallen in love with some dark stranger while traveling?

R: Unfortunately not. Hopefully, I will have one of those fairy tale travel romance stories soon. But for now is been pretty basic and dry. But I do tend to go on dates when I am traveling abroad. So it’s lit. Just not dreamy.

The smoothies came first. Because Dorian demanded that Rachel and I eat nothing before breakfast, this was the first thing we swallowed this morning other than a little toothpaste and spit. The look of replenishment was obvious on both our faces and we laughed hard and loud. My last home-cooked meal was no less than four months ago, and I can’t even remember the home in which it was served. I need to do better.

D: Do you think you are ever going to give in to what society tells you that you should be doing? Marriage, children, traveling only when your job allows, and all that stuff?

R: Hell no. I literally know that I can have everything that I want because I am seeing it manifest in my life now. So by navigating my journey based on what society says? Absolutely not! Having all the things that I desire when it’s best for me? Hell yes!

D: You’re an advocate for Black women traveling solo. How do you push them out there when many things are telling them they should be deathly afraid? What do you say to them or show them?

R: I truly believe it is the duty of Black women to change the perception of the way much of the world sees us. Most of the world sees Black women based on what the media shows us to be, propaganda, and popular culture. There is the spectrum of Michelle Obama and Beyoncé on one end and on the other end are “video girls” and sex symbols. As Black women, it’s really important that we take the opportunity to really expand and grow. And I believe that travel is an amazing way to do that. I know travel is a way to do that. Most of our lives we are taught to be everything to everybody, and leave the scraps for ourselves. Traveling solo really put a lot of things into perspective, from expanding your networks, facing fears and anxieties, and really just showing how fearless and badass I was and we are. About 90% of my travels have been solo, and I truly believe I wouldn’t have gotten this far in my journey without pushing my limits and expanding my comfort zones. It’s almost like, “If I can travel solo through XYZ, I can do any damn thing!” And I want all of my sisters to do and feel the same way.

D: Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon and can you paint with all the colors of the wind?

R: Yes! Through this journey of living, loving, and traveling, I’ve been able to take paint from the winds of many lands and spread it as far and wide as possible. Fortunately, I can do that through my influence and platform.

D: You can choose one person, living or dead, to take with you to your favorite place in the world. Where will you take them? What will you do while there?

R: I would choose Andre 3000 and we would go to Accra Ghana. I’m such a huge fan of his. Outside of the music he creates, he’s just so insightful and wise. I would love to get his perspective on the current state of Black America, the black diaspora, and eating plant-based meals and shit.

Rachel’s mission, desire, and purpose is to change the narrative and negative perception of Black Travelers around the world and helping people of color get past fears and excuses and travel the world. She’s just as wise and creative as 3000, but won’t admit to it so easily.

And then came the question I’ve been wanting to ask since Rachel stepped into the house, but waited til the end of the interview in case I needed to escort her from the grounds. I ask with a smirk, knowing damn well the Wildcats already have the trophy on the shelf. She ignores the smirk and waits for it.

D: Who’s going to win the Florida Classic this year?

R: Well…FAMU football team is crap this year. But our band always smokes yall’s. Duh.

And I let her end on a lie because Dorian was coming with the dishes and I was inhaling what could have been the French toast or the fragrance of god. My stomach screamed out for relief, I shot a side eye in Rachel’s direction, making sure she caught it, and made my move for a little bit of everything. Everything that happened while eating and laughing with Rachel and Dorian was in the name of self-care.

Rachel “RachelTravels” Hill can and should be found at the end of your fingertip on: Instagram Facebook RachelTravels.Com

Rachel Travels + Why All Black Folk Should was originally published on Passport Required

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