#this is probably more in line with a retelling initially I was a little disappointed in myself because I have written Cinderella tales

[allisonreader]

So this is the story I jumped ship from to write Grandfather's Story. Which came out of almost nowhere. As for this one, well this was my SECOND idea for @inklings-challenge based off of a dream that I had in September and then shared about.

Yes folks, for those of you who know, this is the Selkie Cinderella Little Mermaid story idea. Simply called by the working title of The Selkie Story. The basics is that it's The Little Mermaid smashed together with Cinderella with a dash of loose Selkie lore. Right now there's no obvious signs of Little Mermaid and more Cinderella and Selkie vague than anything else.

If you're interested in how it all started, here's a link to that post.

I was going to try and fit it into team Chesterton whether it truly fit or not. Anyways, here's the beginning of that story.

Once there was a lonely man named Lucas, whose wife had died and left him childless.

He had heard a story; once, being passed around by sailors. Claiming how one of them they knew had gotten themselves a Selkie bride; by stealing her coat and keeping it from her.

For whatever reason, that story had struck a chord with our lonely man. He decided that he too wanted a beautiful Selkie bride and made plans to find one.

What he didn’t expect was to come across the coat of a young Selkie girl of maybe three or four. Surprising him greatly when she came looking for her coat, which he had ready secured away in a chest. Throwing away the key into the ocean.

He watched the girl for a bit, regretting that he had thrown away the key prematurely. It was too late now, but perhaps the girl could fill the hole in his heart.

He pretended to come across her, and told her that he’d help her look for her missing coat. When they couldn’t find it, he offered for her to come home with him for the night and that they could come back the next day and do just that.

He followed through and did that for a few days, showing her jackets and sweaters that weren’t her coat.

After a few days more, he asked if he could call her Cordelia and if she would be willing to be his daughter. Since they couldn’t find her coat that would allow her to go home. She hesitantly agreed, still longing to go home.

He wasn’t cruel to her, and did treat her exactly as if she had been the daughter his wife had not given him. He always made sure she had enough to eat and drink and clothed her in the most up to date fashions of the day. Playing with her and trying to make her laugh, while keeping her oblivious to the fact that her coat was kept in a chest in the attic and that the key for it was lost somewhere in the sea.

After a few years together, he happened to find himself a wife, a mother for his sweet Cordelia he thought. The woman had two daughters about Cordelia's age, what perfect playmates for her. For a few years everything was fine, until he became sick and died.

In his will, he asked that Cordelia continue to be looked after for. Meaning that she could not be thrown from her adoptive father’s house. So Cordelia remained, much to her stepmother Helena’s chagrin.

Since the girl could not be thrown out and left homeless, the stepmother decided that Cordelia should become the household’s maid. Cordelia was of no relation to the man she had married, and she had never adopted the girl, so now Cordelia could make herself useful to her and her own daughters. And so Cordelia's life as a servant began. Working for her step mother and sisters.

Life for Cordelia had changed fast after her father’s death. She had hardly been given time to grieve properly before being removed from her room. She was allowed to keep some of her dresses, but not her fancier ones as she was told that she would not be going anywhere where she would need them.

At first they still had servants around to help teach her everything that she would need to know to take care of the house. But over time the staff were slowly let go and Cordelia was forced to try and make up for all the work.

Just as slowly her step sisters Phoebe and Natalie began to forget that the three of them had been friends and sisters, as they started to tease Cordelia about her being forced to work and live in/near the kitchen. Their mother encouraging the behaviour from her daughters.

Cordelia ignored the taunting in favour of remembering the good around her. The kindness of her adoptive father and the fun she had had with her sisters before step mother decided that she was to become their servant to earn her keep.

She was kept busy enough to not have a lot of time to think. Helena wasn’t afraid to strike her on occasion if she did something that was considered particularly egregious. Leaving deep bruises those times. The sharp biting words that sunk into her soul were almost worse. She fought to keep herself respectful as possible when facing her stepmother; as disrespect would bring bigger punishment. Overtime the physical punishment stopped, in favour of my chores being added to her work load.

Before her adoptive father had passed, she had never fully realized how much he had meant to her. She missed their trips to the sea to look for her coat. An activity that was just for them. The coat looking never lasting long before they both were enjoying just being at the seashore.

#the selkie story #inklingschallenge #team chesterton #genre: intrusive fantasy #genre: adventure #theme: clothing #story: unfinished #this is probably more in line with a retelling initially I was a little disappointed in myself because I have written Cinderella tales #but I thought I would share this anyway #I'm also going to share what I have for my original idea but it needs to be typed up yet

[the-resurrection-3d]

so what was ever good about acotar anyway?

For some reason, I’ve been very tempted to reread ACOTAR lately, and so I’m going to just make a quick list of what I remember specifically endearing the book to me back when I first read it in 2016 so we can compare notes later. This will, however, also include some retroactive criticisms now that we’re four years on from ACOWAR ruining everything forever. 

Twigger warnings for discussions of abuse, csa and neglect, as well as me using my complimentary R Slur Pass.

For some context: 

>Be 18yr me in 2016. 

>Be in your first semester at college. 

>Be so fed up with YA romance that you avoid books just for hinting at them in the summary. 

>Be also brainstorming a series with your roommate called The Cuckmaster Saga. 

This is probably going to sound embarrassing, but I’m being completely sincere when I say that part of why this book excited me was simply the novelty of finding a YA romance book that I liked. 

I’d fallen out hard with YA in general by this point in my life, partially because of a string of fairy tale “retellings” that clearly gave zero fucks about the source material beyond using the iconography in its marketing. Folklore had been my special interest for a while, and my excitement for the series and all its little extra niche references coincided with finally getting to study folklore in a true academic setting.

Which leads me to point one:

I love the idea of combining BatB and the Tam Lin ballad. I know some people have complained about this, but honestly, I enjoyed finding a retelling that mimicked the mix-and-match structuring of a lot of folktales. ACOTAR isn’t even the messiest or least coherent mash-up by a huge margin. Unfortunately, this aspect of the series severely lessened as it went along — remember when we all thought ACOWAR was going to be a Snow White retelling and then there was just one scene with poisoned apples? Lmao.

[If anyone wants an author who does YA mash-ups that are actually YA, I’d recommend Rosamund Hodge, whose books are always interesting in their sheer weirdness even when the story itself slightly falters. I mean, I wrote a whole 20-page thesis on her Red Riding Hood/Maiden Without Hands retelling and still didn’t cover everything I had thoughts on. (Tragically, however, I must inform you all that she is a Catholic Reylo. Rest in pepperoni.)]

It is fucking hilarious in retrospect that SJM clearly knows a bunch of different folktales and folkloric creatures but thinks it’s believable for shadowsinger powers to have no theorized origin “even [in] the rich lore of the warrior-people” (ACOFAS 65). Bro fuck outta here. 

But this leads into point two — Feyre and her family. It’s very obvious that SJM based Nesta and Elain’s dynamic with Feyre off the common folktale trope of having the youngest sibling be the only competent person in the room (and Katniss Everdeen). I thought it was honestly a lot of fun to see this trope done with some interiority; you can practically hear Feyre seethe about what useless hoes her sisters are between every line. I genuinely giggled through these parts on my initial readthrough. 

I’ve seen some people complain that Nesta and Elain’s behaviors aren’t realistic in this situation, but au contraire! Nesta and Elain’s actions in book one are (...almost) perfectly realistic. Without revealing too much, my grandmother grew up in poverty with a few older sisters, and yet my great-grandmother would make her do all the work and constantly force her to give up her possessions (like her car) to the older sisters whenever they wanted them. Even to this day, when they’re all in their 70s and 80s, one of these sisters still relies on my grandma to do basic shit like balancing her checkbooks. I’ve also observed similar dynamics play out plenty of times between an adult child and an overindulgent parent, with people literally ruining their lives and bodies all for the sake of sitting at home all day buying furry porn off the internet. 

Nesta and Elain are basically the psychology of this type of person split in two — Elain the soft, delicate, perpetually victimized front they put on for the world, and Nesta the ice-cold, bitter, and aggressive bitch they truly are. 

Honestly, the only thing I would change about this set-up is either keep Ma Archeron alive or give Papa Archeron more personality than a plank of damp wood. What’s truly missing here is a parental figure enforcing this fucked up dynamic — I don’t remember it being clear that Feyre’s always had this role, just that she took it on after her mom’s death. Making it clear that Feyre’s always been forced to be this way — alongside giving the mom more characterization — would have gone a long way towards making this dynamic feel more realized and less like the narrative using trauma and pity as a shortcut towards reader engagement. 

Then again, that would require SJM to have a female villain in this series who isn’t a rapist, and quotes I’ve seen floating around from ACOSF make it pretty clear SJM doesn’t know same-gender sexual abuse even exists. 

Anyway. 

Point Three (or rather 2B): Feyre realizing she doesn’t have to hang around her family just because she feels obligated to love them was a fucking banger. I loved it so much; having a story, especially a YA story, that showed you aren’t obligated to love a family that treats you like shit was so special to me. Especially since I was also leaving my family for the first time, and going home to visit them every other weekend felt like being hit point-blank with a Psyduck blast. 

Thankfully, my relationship with my family has gotten a lot better, but I’m still really disappointed that Nesta and Elain were forced back into the story, rather than them reaching out to Feyre and making amends because they wanted to do better.  The closest we got to this was the revelation that Nesta almost made it to the Border by herself after Feyre was taken, which was definitely badass, but also unfortunately the only Nesta scene I’ve liked in this entire fucking series. If SJM was going to force Feyre to regress into being Nesta and Elain’s tardwrangler again, then she should have followed up on Amren’s line in ACOWAR that Feyre treats Nesta and Elain the way Tamlin treated her. 

“I asked them to help once—and look what happened. I won’t risk them again.”

Amren snorted. “You sound exactly like Tamlin.”

[. . .] and I said, “She’s right.”  (169-170). 

But I’m sure everyone who’s read ACOSF knows how well that’s going. 

Point Four: the femindhjdfhfdh I can’t even write that with a straight face. I mean let’s be real, I too enjoy seeing female characters I like become queens and all that other stuff, but it was clear to me even on my initial reading of ACOMAF that it was all shallow and designed to help delineate good guys from bad guys without much in the way of nuance. It certainly took me out of the experience a little, but at least it ties into the books’ themes of recovering from abuse and shacking up with a Certified Women Respecter. 

My actual point four: Truthfully I only bought this series for the meme of having the first shitty love interest getting cucked in the second book. ACOWAR gave me some complicated feelings on Tamlin, and I honestly think he should have just stopped appearing in the series after that — BUT, having him be dragged back in once per book just to call him a cuck and cockslap him around a little bit is fucking hilarious. Pointless! But hilarious.

I also think that this kind of arc is a great critique of the standard “happily ever after,” acknowledging that in real life, you’re much more likely to just pass from one abusive household to another because you don’t know what healthy love, communication, and boundaries are. (Arguably many folktales are the fantasies of women who are well aware of this reality but want to imagine a world that’s otherwise). I definitely have a lot of problems with SJM’s claims of “sex positivity,” but acknowledging that Feylin used sex as a means of avoiding communication was another great touch.

I wish that this whole King of Hybern shit was completely cut just to focus on these themes more; it’s very clear SJM only included it because fantasy series = BIG EPIC WORLD-ENDING STAKES!! I've read maybe ten pages of Throne of Glass, so I can't speak for how she handles epic fantasy there, but I know for me and a lot of other stans, the Hybern plot had licherally nothing to do with what we liked and connected to in these books. 

But I must soften here, because I totally empathize with feeling like big stakes are “necessary” for a fantasy story and that no one would want to read your books without them. YA fantasy is the reason why TV Tropes coined the term “romantic plot tumor,” after all. (Source: I’m making shit up.) 

What else… what else… uhhhhh. I think that might be it, at least for substantial things I don’t have to qualify too much. I of course have plenty of little things I used to like but have now been tainted because ACOWAR ruined everything forever and ACOFAS danced on the graves (such as how I liked Lucien but everyone in the books shits on him now to the point it’s stopped being funny). But this post is too long anyway.

#long post #anti sjm #abuse tw #csa tw #r slur #neglect tw #what's been eating feyre archeron?

[ladyherenya]

Books read in October

I read a paperback book for the first time in over three months months and was sharply aware that I couldn’t change anything about the way the text was displayed to make it more comfortable to read. I wondered, sadly, if I no longer like reading physical books.

Then I became engrossed in the story, and there were long stretches of time when I didn’t think about how I was reading a brick of printed paper. I turned pages as automatically and effortlessly as breathing. I think I was just out of practice.

This month’s Unintentional Colour Scheme: pink, purple and light blue.

Favourite covers: The Time-Traveling Popcorn Ball and The Other Side of the Sky. 

Also read: “Good Neighbors” by Stephanie Burgis and Tiny House, Big Love by Olivia Dade. (And half a romance novel which I disliked and have no interest in remembering or reviewing.) 

Reread: The last section of The Beckoning Hills by Ruth Elwin Harris. The middle section of Hunting by Andrea K. Höst.

Still reading: Between Silk and Cyanide by Leo Marks, and Angel Mage by Garth Nix.

Next up: The Switch  by Beth O’Leary, and Hamster Princess: Little Red Rodent Hood by Ursula Vernon.

*

The Time-Traveling Popcorn Ball by Aster Glenn Gray: A magical story of time-travel and of friendship between eleven year old Piper, who has just moved into a new house, and Rosie, who lived in the same house fifty years earlier. It’s totally charming, and exactly the sort of story I adored growing up. Sometimes that makes me wish I could send a book back in time to my younger self, but I appreciated this book’s references to things that my younger self didn’t know about. I also appreciated how, even though I’ve read similar stories, I couldn’t predict how this one would end. That was very satisfying.

The Game of Kings by Dorothy Dunnett: In 1547, Francis Crawford, the Master of Lymond, wanted by the Scottish government for treason, is back in Edinburgh. The audiobook was the perfect way to experience this! The voices the narrator uses highlights clues in the text, about who’s speaking or the subtext and emotional tones of a conversation, which helped me to follow the story even when I felt confused about exactly what was going on. I enjoyed the Scottish accents, the clever wit, the ambiguity about Lymond’s plans and motives, and the way many characters are very intelligent, perceptive people. I was interested in the historical political intrigue. I loved the twists and revelations, which are brilliant -- incredibly clever and satisfying.

“Good Neighbors” by Stephanie Burgis:  The first “fantasy rom-com” about a grumpy inventor who, along with her father, moves into a cottage nextdoor to a notorious necromancer in his big black castle. I wasn’t expecting to read about Mia stitching up undead minions, but appreciate that Burgis doesn’t take this opportunity to give glory details. This short story was fun and satisfying, and I am looking forward to when the rest of this series becomes (easily) available.

Lake of Sorrows by Erin Hart: After Haunted Ground, Dr Nora Gavin heads to the midlands west of Dublin to oversee the evacuation of another body discovered in a peat bog. The setting is fascinating and I like the atmosphere -- this has a strong sense of both place and mystery. However the multiple murders meant there’s more unpleasantness than I’d prefer. But it’s probably not enough to deter me from reading the next book.

The Dictionary of Lost Words by Pip Williams: Engrossing -- a poignant story of childhood during the late 19th century and womanhood in the early 20th century, and an absolutely fascinating insight into the decades-long process behind the first Oxford English Dictionary. Esme’s father is one of the lexicographers collecting and defining words for the Dictionary. Esme grows up with a fascination for words and begins to collect words that the Dictionary leaves out. I liked that Esme has people in her life who love and support her, but the ending is intensely sad. I’m not sure why that disappointed me. As an ending, it fits this story.

Taking Down Evelyn Tait by Poppy Nwosu: Australian YA. Lottie is furious that no one else seems to realise what Evelyn Tait, her nemesis (and stepsister) is like. Her best friend Grace is in love with Evelyn. Her teachers and her father tell Lottie she should emulate Evelyn. So Lottie decides that she’s going to do just that -- she’s going to be better than Miss Perfect. I thought this was a very realistic portrayal of a teenager’s relationships -- with family, with friends, with school and with herself. It’s amusing and, ultimately, believably positive. It captures Lottie’s perspective and her experiences in-the-moment so effectively and intensely.

Wired Love: a romance of dots and dashes by Ella Cheever Thayer (1888): Nattie, a telegraph operator who chats whenever she can “over the wire” with C., another telegraph operator miles down the line. I love stories where characters fall in love through exchanged messages. And the experiences of telegraph operators is absolutely fascinating -- simultaneously a product of the past and yet incredibly relatable from a contemporary perspective, because the internet and mobile phones mean we communicate so much through text. After Nattie and Clem meet, the focus shifts away from the telegraph office to antics at their boardinghouse, but the story continues to be fun and delightful. 

Once Upon a Con series by Ashley Poston:

Geekerella: When Elle discovers her late parents’ cosplay costumes in a box in the attic, she hatches a plan to enter a cosplay competition and use the prize to escape her step-family. This contemporary Cinderella retelling about two teenage fans of a SF series Starfield is a romance-through-messages story. Elle uses her father’s old phone, so sometimes she gets messages from people about ExcelsiCon, the convention her father founded. One message sparks a conversation -- but neither she nor Darien realise just who they’re texting. As expected, this is fun and fandom-y, and it makes the coincidences and Cinderella moments feel believable.

The Princess and the Fangirl: At ExcelsiCon, Starfield actress Jessica Stone swaps places with a fan, Imogen. Jess needs to find a mislaid script before she’s accused of leaking it, and Imogen hopes for an opportunity to promote the #Save Amara initiative. I enjoyed how they both experience a different side of fandom. Imogen discovers the pressures of being a star, when con appearances are your job, and, away from the spotlight, Jess discovers how cons allow people to come together and celebrate things they love.  My only disappointment was the way they both deceive Imogen’s fandom friend, Harper. I wish that had been handled differently.

The Little Bookshop at Herring Cove by Kellie Hailes: Unlike other books I’ve borrowed because they had “bookshop” in the title, this didn’t focus very much on books, nor did it describe its bookshop vividly. Sophie could have easily owned a different sort of shop without changing the plot, the setting or the atmosphere. This is a light-hearted romance about nice people in a generic seaside town -- not what I was looking for. I wanted more about books and a stronger sense of place.

Lilac Girls by Martha Hall Kelly (narrated by Cassandra Campbell, Kathleen Gati and Kathrin Kana): This begins with three different women at the start of WWII -- a teenager in Poland, a newly-graduated doctor in Germany and a wealthy consulate worker in New York -- and  becomes about the Ravensbruck Rabbits, Polish political prisoners subjected to medical experimentation. Not what I expected or wanted to be reading (which is not its fault. I switched to the ebook, because I'm irrationally squeamish about some medical things and cope better when reading to myself). This story is compelling and does a good job of showing how the pain and trauma didn’t just end with the war. And it’s incredibly important to keep telling stories about distressing parts of history. 

The Other Side of the Sky by Amie Kaufman and Meagan Spooner: More or less the sort of story I expected from these two. Nimh is the Divine One in a world of magic and prophecy. North is a prince in a floating city of science and engineering. Nimh believes the gods fled into the sky thousands of years ago, and North believes no one still lives down on the surface… until he crashes his glider. I enjoyed this but don’t feel any emotional investment -- yet. I will read the sequel.

Spoiler Alert by Olivia Dade: April and Marcus keep fandom separate from their professional lives -- April to avoid negative comments, Marcus (an actor) to avoid violating his contract. So when Marcus sees a cosplay photo of April online, he doesn’t recognise his friend, he just sees a gorgeous woman getting nasty comments and invites her to dinner. I was hooked. As a romance, this didn’t always focus on the things I most wanted it to, but I understood why it made those narrative choices and liked how the characters resolved their mistakes. And I really liked it as a story about fanfiction and the way we tell stories in response to other stories.

Big Love, Tiny House by Olivia Dade: Lucy goes on a Tiny House Hunting show and drags along her best friend Sebastian. I’ve watched countless tiny house videos on Youtube, so it was fun to see tiny houses depicted in fiction -- although I was disappointed that all the houses are so disastrously bad. Beyond that, I have no strong feelings one way or another about this romance novella.

Memento: an Illuminae Files novella by Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff (narrated by a full cast): A bonus prequel, set aboard the Alexander prior to the events of Illuminae. The audiobook is so well done! Even though this is a short story/novella, I cared about the new characters it introduces -- I really like the epistolary format and how it requires the reader to fill in some of the gaps for themselves. (I think that’s part of why I love The Illuminae Files but so far have no strong feelings about Kaufman and Kristoff’s latest series.) And it’s always interesting to see more of AIDAN.

#Herenya reviews books #Aster Glenn Gray #Dorothy Dunnett #Erin Hart #Pip Williams #Poppy Nwosu #Ella Cheever Thayer #Ashley Poston #Martha Hall Kelly #Amie Kaufman #Meagan Spooner #Jay Kristoff #Olivia Dade #Stephanie Burgis

[howlingday]

I say start with the giant X scar; that’s seems like a good one to cover first.

" Yang said as Blake continued to nuzzle into her rib-cage. She felt shivers that faded all too soon. Blake could feel it, too, if her giggles were any indication. That's good. Yang had a feeling this was going to get really uncomfortable, really fast.

"That one, huh? Yeah, I guess that would be a good place to start." He put his hand to his chin and closed his eyes as he recalled the memory. "I was about 7 years old, and I just started practicing my swordsmanship." He opened his eyes and smiled. "I sucked! Like, really bad. Like, imagine if you gave my nephew a broadsword, and he'd probably do better than me. And even then, he would-"

"Hey, bunny boy?" Yang interrupted. "I was asking about your X-mark, not the x-position of your low self-esteem." Yang felt a jab to her ribs. She looked down to Blake's glare. Yikes! She shifted her gaze back to Jaune and gave a nervous chuckle. "Uh, my bad! Keep going."

Jaune nodded at her statement. "No, you're right. I should focus on my backstory, not on my bad-story!" He then grinned and pointed a double finger-gun at Yang. Yang returned her own in kind as the rest of the group groaned. Jaune chuckled and cleared his throat. "Anyways I was just getting my footwork down when my dad invited my grandparents over. My grandmother was a sweet, old woman. She always wore a shawl with the Arc family crest and always told me stories about knights of chivalry. She used to call me her little Jaune-iper berry."

Ruby and Yang guffawed at the memory. Ruby so much so that the rest of the team had to wait for her to finish laughing. A few gasps for air and occasional chuckling later, Ruby cleared her throat. "Continue."

Weiss noticed how patient Jaune was being. He probably wanted this story to be done as soon as possible. No one gets scars that big with a happy memory involved, after all. And yet here he was, retelling his childhood with a smile on his face. A sour feeling turned in her stomach. How long would that smile last?

"So, one day, my grandma and I went into the forest to get berries. She always knew the best place for berry picking." The tone in his voice shifted as he spoke, as if the memory was the last in a long line of sweet ones. Weiss' sour feeling grew more sour.

"I don't know what got into me. I think I was letting my swordsmanship training get to my head, so I told, 'I'm gonna find more berries than you.' She just laughed and said she would give me a ten minute head-start." His smile faded. Weiss' sour feeling almost made her double over. She gripped her arm-rest in an attempt to ease herself. It did nothing.

"I got pretty far into the woods and I managed to find a few berries. I was about to go apologize to my grandma for being so pig-headed. But then, I saw it. The biggest bush of berries I ever saw. I rushed in and started just grabbing berries off the branches. I was so excited to grab berries that I didn't notice the huge shadow over me. I had already filled up half of my basket when suddenly- BOO!"

Jaune jumped and extended his arms out to appear bigger.

Yang and Blake gave him a flat look. Couldn't he take this seriously? Blake was already losing her comfort from this story, so adding jumpscares just made her more uncomfortable.

Yang felt it, too, based on how Blake's nails were digging into her abs. Seriously, she was surprised Blake didn't accidentally gut her from that scare!

Ruby gave a small yelp, then grew red with anger. Who did he think he was, trying to scare her like some kid? She was a Huntress, a bane of all things Grimm, and he tried to scare her? She wasn't shaking. You were shaking! Shut up!

Weiss stiffened then exhaled slowly. Really? Jumpscares? If you're going to scare someone like that, at least turn off the lights and add scary music. But there was one upside to this, however, as noted by the greatly eased sour feeling in her stomach. She smiled at this, then spoke. "Did you really need to add jumpscares?"

Jaune chuckled. "No, I guess not. But, hey, if you did get scared, you weren't the only one. I screamed so loud, I think everyone in Remnant heard me. My grandma always did like scaring me. I was almost crying, but her hugs made it all better. They always did. She then said to me, 'Oh, so you found my berry picking spot!' And she then told that this was where she and grandpa would always go for berry picking. We managed to fill up both of our baskets full and we started our way back. We were about halfway out when Grandma suddenly stopped. She told me to get close, and crouched down. I dropped my basket and we huddled over by the nearest tree. That's when I saw it."

There was that sour feeling again.

"I know now that it's called a Lumber-Jacker, but back then, I called it, 'Click-Cutter'. It towered over me on it's four legs, with two arms like scythes. It was clicking as it bent down and looked at our baskets. Then it looked at me." Jaune shivered. "Those eyes. Like two big balls of fire. It started moving closer to us. I wanted to scream, but grandma covered my mouth. She started to slowly move away, and it stopped, so we did, too. It clicked more and started to back away." Jaune gulped. "It wasn't retreating, though."

"All of a sudden, my grandma bolted and it leapt right through the tree, cutting it down with a swing of it's claw. We got to the edge of the forest. We were almost home, but then a tree fell in front of us. I don't know if it was the same one, or another one found us. All I knew was that it was clicking and it was looking at us. I jumped out of my grandma's arms and grabbed one of the branches from the tree and started swinging it at the Click-Cutter. My grandmother screamed in terror, asking me what I was doing. I had no idea."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my grandpa coming. I looked at my grandma and told her grandpa was coming." Jaune shook his head. "I shouldn't have looked away. It clicked louder as it spread it's wings. I think it was angry I wasn't looking at while I was putting up a fight. I ran into the forest to give my grandma time to run away. She just stood there and screamed as I ran away. It chased me a little into the forest, then jumped over my head. It scattered leaves and sticks as it landed, shaking me off my feet. It clicked louder as I lay there, but it didn't kill me. I don't know why. I shut my eyes, begging this was just a nightmare, but it didn't attack. I blinked and it was gone. I looked around, and when I thought it was gone, I picked my stick and walked away."

"You shouldn't have done that." Blake said grimly.

Jaune chuckled. "Funny. I think that's what the Click-Cutter was saying, too, when I heard him again." Jaune swallowed the lump in his throat. "I should have just stayed with her. I should have just waited with Grandma until Grandpa showed. He was a Huntsman. He had his weapon. I was a kid who had a stick. Next thing I knew, I was on my stomach, crying and screaming, with the worst pain a seven year old could ever feel on his back." Jaune turned around, showing the girls his back scars once more. The X almost seemed to glow blood-red, indicating this was the scar his story was about.

Jaune continued. "I would have died. I should have died. I was certain I was going to die. Die not knowing what a real sword in my hands would feel like. Die not finding a girl to fall in love with, marry, and start a family with. Die before ever becoming a hero." Jaune was silent. "Just like Grandpa."

"The clicking continued, but I didn't care. I was about to die. I just shut my eyes and screamed. When I stopped screaming, I noticed the clicking stopped. Panic ran through me again. Was it another trick? I tried to get up, but, well..." He jutted a thumb towards his back. "You know. I heard my grandpa say, 'Don't get up. You'll only draw more Grimm.' He wrapped me in bandages, then carried me to the house, out of the forest. I spent the next four months in and out of the hospital, getting stitches for my back." Jaune chuckled once more, and Weiss felt the sour feeling disappear forever. Based on his tone, she knew the story was over, or at least the horrors of this story.

"You're lucky that was all that happened to you." Weiss muttered under her breath. The silence that followed made her realize her inner thoughts weren't quite as inner as she initially thought. Ruby, with her mouth wide open from a silent gasp, looked absolutely offended by the comment. Blake glared at Weiss, reminding her of their rocky start as a team. Yang just looked disappointed. Why couldn't she have been angry.

Jaune suddenly laughed. The team broke from looking at Weiss, and she at them, to look at the blonde onsie-wearing man laughing in what seemed to be pure delight. As he settled down, he wiped a tear from his eye. Noticing the tone in the room, he apologized. "Sorry, sorry. I know I shouldn't be laughing at that, but I remembered what I went through for those stitches." The group leaned in, their curiosity taking over. "You ever walk around topless in the house?"

"Oh, yeah. All the time." Yang confessed. Blake looked at Ruby, who only nodded.

"She did. Every day we didn't have anyone over, she would walk around with no shirt and no bra." Blake and Jaune blushed at the thought. "Up until you left for Beacon." Blake and Jaune were fully red-faced. Was Blake bleeding from her nose?

Jaune shook his head clear before speaking again. "Uh, well, that's what I had to do. Not just at home, either, but in town, too. On the upside, I got a pretty sweet tan!" He boasted as he flexed. His audience merely raised their brows. "Okay, it was a sunburn, but I still think it counts!"

The team laughed. It felt good. Jaune's story had put everyone on edge, but this conclusion was just what they needed. Not every story has a happy ending, but this one did.

Weiss thought about Jaune's story and how it changed him. Jaune was clumsy at times, but not without a sense of caution. Was this X scar story a look into the reason why? This made her more curious about the other scars. Perhaps-

Grrrrrrrrrmmmmmll...

Perhaps it was time for lunch.

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #weiss schnee #my answer

[storiesandgarbage]

Sleep for Bucky

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Style: One-Shot

Word Count: ~3k

Warnings: Mentions of insomnia, veterans and PTSD, talk of Bucky in Siberia, Steve being a jealous boy, Bucky being a sweet boy, SO MUCH FLUFF, it’s sickening really,

Summary: Since Bucky moved in with you, Steve, and Wanda you guys have become great friends. For months you have been trying to assist him with his insomnia but there hasn’t been much of progress as of yet. Can you help Bucky? Based on my favorite ever prompt: “Is that my shirt?”

A/N: Hi my lovielies! As a little Christmas gift and to celebrate reaching 100 followers, I finally got this one-shot finished! I’ve been struggling but I’m super excited for you all to read this one! As per the usual please don’t be afraid to leave feedback in the asks. My taglist and requests are open!

*Links aren’t working in my posts but you can go to my profile and find my masterlist if you’re interested!

“Is that my shirt?” A deep voice rang out from the other side of the dark living room you had just crept into.

“Jesus Buck, why are you sitting in the dark?” As your heart rate began to slow you took in the form of your roommate. He sat on the floor with legs covered in sweatpants but a bare torso. From the street light shining in through the window you could see the dull shimmer of metal moving to push hair away from a face you knew held the devilish grin of someone who thoroughly enjoyed startling you. He sat facing the doorway that you had just walked through, as if he had been waiting for you to come through it.

“Bed’s too soft, I couldn’t sleep.”

You sighed as you tiptoed through the space, “Bucky we bought you the hardest mattress we could find.” You whispered to him and took your spot on the floor. His body shifted away from you instinctively and though he corrected himself, shaking his head, you had to hide the disappointment that bubbled over at the action. Your friend is a stranger to touch, to love, to everything that you have to offer him for comfort. Including a proper mattress.

“I know, it just doesn’t feel right.” He ran his hand through his hair again, you could feel his nervous energy, “It’s too big, too warm. I sweat under that thing, the uh- what do you call it?”

“The duvet,” you smiled to yourself as you lay back on the carpeted floor, at least he’s moved in here instead of the kitchen floor, you thought to yourself. You patted the space next to you and Bucky quickly imitated your motions, sprawling out in the space between two couches. Your shoulders brushed as he situated himself and this time, he didn’t pull away.

“You didn’t answer my question,” despite the fact that you were only inches away, his voice was barely audible.

“What question?” He turned his head toward you and crossed his arm over his own body to place cool vibranium fingers under the sleeve of the shirt you wore to pick up the fabric, forcing you to remember.

“Is this my shirt?” Your mouth twisted just enough to reveal a dimple in your cheek as he felt the fabric in his hand briefly before releasing it and settling his arm across his torso, fingers still close enough that you got goosebumps from the chill.

“I don’t recall that being the case.” You felt him still staring at you, willing you to admit the truth. “Okay fine, you caught me, but it smells like you,” more quietly you added, “and I missed you.”

Bucky chuckled at you and returned to staring at the ceiling.

Many of your nights had been like this since he moved into the house with you, Steve, and Wanda. You often woke up out of a dead sleep after hearing his bedroom door open just down the hall from your own. The first few weeks you found him outside at all hours of the night, sitting and staring up at the sky. So you stayed with him, usually sitting in silence until the sun rose over the yard. It wasn’t long after that you found Bucky on accident, stepping on him on your way through the kitchen. After you got over the initial shock and he got over pain of having a foot kicked into his side, he opened up to you.

“It’s great, really, and I appreciate everything you and Steve offered me when I moved in, but,” he paused, not wanting to hurt your feelings but you just nodded at him over your tea mug and he continued, “the mattress is too soft.”

He told you about his time in Siberia, about how if he wasn’t in cyro, he was on missions, rarely resting at all. If he did sleep it was on hard floors or army style cots. He also mentioned the nightmares that plagued him when his mind did rest, even back then the nightmares were the one part of him they couldn’t seem to brainwash. In his dreams, he was Bucky from Brooklyn and he was always fighting to get out. Something about hearing him say it aloud, the way he couldn’t meet your eyes until he had gotten it all out, how his metal fingers picked relentlessly at the hardwood floor in the kitchen as he spoke, it all made you want to protect him from the memories. But when you reached your hand out to pat his leg, he pulled away as if your touch would burn and you knew comfort would have to come in another form for Bucky.

The next day you had started searching for firmer mattresses, continuously trying different beds for Bucky, dragging him through shops and checking online. As a result of many trials and errors, it had been months since that first night in the kitchen. The mattress currently in Bucky’s room was your most recent find, it had only been there for about four days and when you tried it out for yourself you thought it was worse than the kitchen floor. But it wasn’t working for Bucky.

That’s how you ended up here. On the nights Bucky abandoned his too soft mattresses he found solace in the common areas of the house and you would join him. A great majority of the time the two of you stayed up talking and sharing in the company of one another; you taught Bucky about tea and the literature you enjoyed and he shared the research he had been doing on service and emotional support animals, he was toying with the idea of training them himself. One night in the kitchen you had laid down as you spoke about the book you were in the middle of and he followed suit. It wasn’t more than 20 minutes later, as you were droning on about the plot twist you had just come across that you heard it.

Bucky was snoring, peacefully sleeping next to you on the cold hard wood floor. It was all you could do to not get up to get a blanket for yourself but the thought of accidentally waking him kept you glued to the spot. The next morning Steve found the two of you when he was getting ready to leave for his morning run, both of you sleeping. He draped a blanket over your shivering form before he left. Since then your ritual had changed a bit. When you found Bucky you almost immediately laid down, and he would do the same. Some nights you still didn’t actually sleep, but the majority of the time you were able to lull Bucky into unconsciousness for the night with a good retelling of a novel you had read.

In the present, you could feel Bucky picking at his arm and you knew he had to be pretty tired already. The action was a dead tell that he was fighting sleep.

“How long have you been waiting?” You whispered into the room.

“Not long I guess, I tried for longer than usual to sleep in the bed.” He cleared his throat, “I don’t think I can do it without you.” You turned your head to look at him and he looked back at you. Even in the dark you could see his discomfort at his admission.

“Maybe it’s just the noise,” you thought out loud, “you always fall asleep while I’m talking to you.”

“It’s not just noise, I tried sleeping with the TV on, with music, those ridiculous wave crashing sound tracks, anything you can think of. None of those work. It’s you, Y/N.”

“Ah so I’m just spectacularly boring,” you scrunched your nose, pretending to be hurt.

“No,” the grin on his face faded quickly as he geared up for his admission, “you’re comforting. I feel at ease with you.”

You pondered his words for a while in the darkness and his fidgeting continued until he spoke again.

“I’m sorry, that was probably weird, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around me.”  You laughed and Bucky whipped his head to look at you.

“Buck, you didn’t make me uncomfortable. I’m just brainstorming how to recreate the feeling you get when you’re with me.”

“You could have said that instead of leaving me hangin’ doll.” He grumbled and turned his body away from you, leaving your side cold in his absence. You had to hold back another bout of laughter at his temper tantrum.

“What can I say? I’m sleepy,” You rolled and gently placed your chin on his shoulder to look down at him. He was fighting a smile creeping up, “and I didn’t bring a blanket, so you have to come back or else I’ll freeze to death.” At your comment he was unable to hide his smile any longer and rolled back into you, opening his arm for you to crawl underneath it and cuddle into his side.

The intimacy of the action was not lost on either of you, but you told yourself that it didn’t have to mean anything. You brought him comfort so that he could sleep; he kept you warm on more nights than one, but there wasn’t anything more. The friendship between you two was enough. Because as you told Steve once before, friends could wake up spooning on the kitchen floor and never speak of it again and no it wasn’t weird. Why do you ask?

“So,” you whispered again, brushing your hair away from Bucky’s face, “which book were we on last?”

“Five.” Bucky’s voice was sleepy and the steady, even breaths he took could lull even the most stubborn baby to sleep.

Quickly you jumped into explaining in explicit detail the story line of the book to Bucky. He wasn’t much for reading himself but he did find the story lines fascinating and he always let you throw in your own personal theories while you spoke about them, even if it meant you went off on a hour long tangent. That was a quality difficult to find in anyone and it was one of your favorite things about him, even if he didn’t know it. You only got through explaining a single chapter before Bucky was snoring, the noise rattling his chest. You blinked and before you knew it, sunlight was creeping into the living room window to wake the pair of you up.

“If we ever figure out how to get you to sleep in a bed,” your voice was groggy and you looked up into his eyes, “we have to work on your snoring next.” Bucky laughed at you as he untangled himself from your frame. In his sleep he had rolled to his side and completely enveloped you in his arms.

“My snoring is not that bad,” he stood from the floor and offered you his hand.

“Chainsaw, Barnes,” your whining only further fueled the good mood he had woken up with, “I’m not ready to get up, leave me here to die,” a dramatized hand flew up to cover your face and at your resistance he leaned down and scooped you up, throwing you over his shoulder to carry you to the kitchen where he sat you on the counter and began making coffee and getting food out to cook breakfast.

When the coffee was ready he poured some into your favorite mug and your held out your hands like a child waiting for a treat until he gave it to you. You took in the sight of him moving around the kitchen. His shoulders were relaxed, there was a persistent smile on his face that was unwilling to leave, and he was humming old show tunes, you smiled at the sight before you with not much thought until a voice caught you by surprise.

“Is that Bucky’s shirt?” You whipped your head around and caught sight of Steve coming through the doorway into the kitchen. You peeked at Bucky, who was turning red, before turning to look at Steve.

“So what if it is?” You retorted, arms crossed over your chest.

“Well doll,” Steve placed his elbows on the counter top and leaned into a comfortable position, “you’re wearing Barnes’ shirt, and he’s not wearing one at all. You do the math.” The smirk on Steve’s face only seemed to grow with his next question, “Just where exactly did the two of you sleep last night?”

You fought the pink rising to your cheeks as you handed Wanda, who had just stumbled into the room a mug; she could barely acknowledge anyone’s existence before she had some caffeine in her. Steve was right, if anyone else were caught in this situation it would be much, much different, but Bucky actually got some sleep last night. He was in a good mood and Steve was potentially ruining it with his teasing. You tried to be quick on your feet.

“Steven, if you’re jealous, you can just say so.” You flipped your hair over your shoulder and took another sip of coffee, carefully watching Bucky’s body language as he stood over the stove, seemingly ignoring the entire interaction.

“‘Course I’m jealous, that’s my Bucky.” You laughed at his antics and hopped down from the counter. You walked over to Bucky who was smiling now as well and took a risk in the name of having fun at Steve’s expense and wrapped your arms around him from behind.

“My Bucky.” You stated softly and pressed your face into the man’s back, you felt his muscles relax at the action. The smile on your face grew even wider at Steve’s exaggerated scoff.

“Come on Buck, tell her!” His drama queen antics were a bit much for pre-breakfast shenanigans but Bucky surprised both of you with his response.

“Sorry Stevie, if it’s a contest between you and a pretty dame who does in fact look good in my t-shirt, the dame wins.” Steve’s hand flew to his chest in mock hurt, causing both you and Bucky to laugh. The blush on your cheeks in response to Bucky’s compliment well covered by your laughter.

“It’s too early for this,” Wanda finally spoke up, her accent was heavy in the mornings when sleep still coated her throat, “you all make me sick.” She poured a second cup of coffee and left the kitchen only causing the three of you remaining to burst into laughter after she had gone.

Your day passed without incident but the longer you lay in bed that night the more your mind wanted to race. Sleep wasn’t coming for you and you hadn’t heard Bucky leave his room so you were alone. Reaching for your laptop you began looking for more ideas for sleep therapies for Bucky, you had read up on veteran’s sleep and PTSD there were lots of cases you had read about in which the patients in question slept on the floor of their homes permanently. A trade-off you figured, for a good night’s sleep which you seemed to only get when you slept with Bucky.

Frustrated by the lack of new knowledge, you closed the lid to the laptop and got out of your bed. You immediately marched down the hall and cracked open Bucky’s door. He was laying on his new mattress, covers tossed to the side. His arm was behind his neck, supporting his head and he only looked half surprised to see you standing in his doorway, wearing his hoodie which was far too large. It came down to your mid thigh and he didn’t say it but he was in love with the sight of you looking like that.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He smiled at you and motioned for you to join him on the bed. You obliged and immediately grabbed the duvet which smelled like him despite his affliction against it and covering up with it causing a laugh to escape from Bucky’s throat.

“I couldn’t.” You spoke softly, “I did come up with an idea though, to help you sleep.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky turned to his side and propped his head up, the way he stared over you made you want to blush but you shook it off.

“See, you said that I brought you comfort,” Bucky nodded, “so while I try to find a way simulate my so called comfort, I think we should just do it this way.”

“Sleep together?” Bucky’s dimple showed even though he tried to hide his smile from you.

“Don’t be weird,” you giggled and pushed his shoulder. He fell dramatically against the mattress and wrapped you in his arm, bringing you with him. “But yes, we can try it, if you can sleep on the mattress with me then maybe eventually you could sleep on it without me.”

“It’s good logic doll, I say we give it a shot. But you still owe me the rest of book 5.”

You gave the man what he asked for, and even though Bucky was mercilessly fiddling with the cuff of his hoodie and your fingers to try and stay awake to listen to your voice, he was snoring next to you in no time at all. Leaving you to drift off and dream a dream of Bucky.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x you #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #imagine marvel #fluff #Winter Soldier #oneshot #fanfiction #steve rogers #wanda maximoff #is that my shirt #bucky fanfic

[emilyplaysotome]

Part 3 - The King, The Prince, and the Lion

Down the Voltage Rabbit Hole is an ongoing story about our MC, who could easily be anyone in voltage fandom. She woke up in hospital bed only to discover that she’d somehow been transported Voltage universe:

Part 1 (Down the Voltage Rabbit Hole)

Part 2 (The Tres Spades)

Part 3 - The King, The Prince, and the Lion

I’ll admit that “game” Eisuke had always turned me off. I found him far too arrogant for my liking and borderline abusive in his behavior towards the MC.

However, standing in front of the “real” Eisuke Ichinomiya, I finally got what all the fuss was about.

Unlike the others, Eisuke was far more handsome than his sprite ever let on. In our world, there’s no way he would ever have been a hotel mogul - he was far too beautiful for that. He would have been given a reality show like the Kardashians, and toured the world making appearances at clubs, all the while promoting his male skin care line or clothing brand.

To that point, as I stood in front of him, I couldn’t help but be star struck. He was so perfect looking, immaculately dressed and...sighing loudly, as he continued staring me down with an annoyed look in his eyes.

“I said, you’re in my seat. Get up.”

“Right. Of course.”

Much to my surprise, I found myself scrambling to get up as my face took on a deep shade of red. This act of blushing in itself shocked me - in my world I’d once worked at a casting agency, and not once had any of the handsome models or actors gotten me to blush.

Then again, as attractive as they’d been, Eisuke Ichinomiya was in a completely different league. From the couch I heard Baba mutter with disappointment, “I always lose to Boss.”

Eisuke didn’t notice - my blush or Baba’s dejection - as he plopped down in what I could only assume was the king’s throne. He crossed his legs and rested his head on his hand, looking at me as if I were a peasant in his kingdom who had come to beg for mercy before him.

“So...what did this fool promise you? A job?”

From here, Baba took over, retelling my tragic tale to Eisuke, throwing in his own additional embellishments for flair here and there. Eisuke listened, despite looking bored, and glanced over at me from time to time with an indifferent look in his eyes.

If I’m being honest, this was precisely what I’d hoped for. When I formulated my plan I’d initially had the thought to approach Soryu directly for false papers, but the more those scenes played out in my mind, the worse of a plan it seemed. Soryu would immediately be on edge, suspicious of me, and half-convinced I was a spy of sorts, colluding with enemies of the Ice Dragons. Next I thought of Eisuke, who would be able to get me a job (and through his friendship with Soryu papers), but I knew how cold of a man he could be. Evoking any form of sympathy from him as a stranger seemed to be an impossible task. Mamoru and Soryu were constantly at odds with each other, and with no motivation for Soryu to help him, appealing to Mamoru seemed to be a waste of time. As far as Ota went, it was clear to me that he was regarded as a child of sorts and possessed a similarly cold disposition towards strangers, which made appealing to him a waste of time.

That left Mitsunari Baba, and the more I thought about it, the more perfect he became. He was too sweet to ignore a woman in trouble, and surprisingly connected in the underworld to the point it was clear that Soryu and Eisuke would never cross him.

As he pleaded with Eisuke on my behalf, I couldn’t help but think he was attempting to become the Lupin I’d described earlier (dashing and heroic - a friend to women in need everywhere), but either way it didn’t really matter, as long as I got the papers and job.

“It’s decided!”

I’d zoned out for only a moment when Baba’s cheerful exclamation shook me back into the present.

“Sorry, I missed that last part.”

Eisuke smirked at me and said, “He’s going to take responsibility for you. I can’t possibly hire someone off the street.”

That was the worst possible response, and in my haste to execute my plan, one I hadn’t even considered. I rubbed my throbbing head as my mind raced, desperately trying to figure a way out of staying alone in a suite with Baba.

I’d played enough of these games to be able to identify the inciting incident from a mile away, and if I was to make it home, I had to be careful not to get too tied up with one particular character. Sharing a penthouse suite with Baba was out of the question unless I wanted to stay at Tres Spades forever as a maid and his girlfriend.

Eisuke continued, “You’ll stay with him and work on a trial basis. If you do well, you’ll get your papers, and employee housing.”

“I’m sorry sir, but I can’t do that.”

Amused Eisuke crossed his arms and looked at Baba with a smirk.

“I...have a boyfriend. I think...it’s hard to remember…” I said, looking down with the hopes that avoiding eye contact would help sell my fallacy through.

“You have a boyfriend?” a quiet voice asked.

I looked up and saw the disappointment on Baba’s face. To be honest, I’d never made anyone look so sad in my real life. I'd only had 4 boyfriends and for the most part I was the one to get dumped. The one and only time I'd broken up with someone was fairly uneventful - partially because it was clear he'd wanted to as well and had been too lazy to do so. I'd never seen hurt like the expression Baba wore on his face, and it surprised me. I wanted to take back my statement, and maybe even engage in another terrible hug, but instead I forced myself to stay strong.

I looked at him with resolve and said, “I think so. I’m pretty sure...it’s...hard to remember.”

To my surprise, my eyes met Eisuke’s, who wore a similar look of disappointment. I turned to see Mamoru, awake and sitting up on the couch looking gloomy.

“Can’t believe someone agreed to go out with a kid like you.”

For a moment I entertained the idea that my white lie might have broken the world around me, but much to my relief, Baba’s upset passed rather quickly and with a wink he said, “No matter. There’s nothing I can’t steal in this life - another man’s girlfriend included.”

Mamoru nodded and poured himself a drink. Eisuke smirked as he studied my face before saying, “I know who she can stay with.”

"Absolutely not."

"She has to. There's no employee housing open at the moment."

"So get her a room."

"But then who would keep an eye on her?"

"You're just doing this for your own amusement."

The gangster growled his answers back, but surprisingly, he wasn’t intimidating at all.

It’s fair to say that Soryu Oh was the most accurately represented of the group. He was tall and handsome, with broad shoulders, and jet black hair slicked back, which gave him the illusion of being more menacing than he really was.

As Eisuke refused to budge, shrugging off, and essentially acknowledging that forcing me to lodge with Soryu was indeed for his own amusement, Soryu turned his gaze towards me.

“Let’s go then.”

I started to follow, but paused to look at Eisuke to ask, “If I start work tomorrow, can I use the cafeteria tonight?”

“Why would you do that? Just order room service.”

“I couldn’t -”

“Just charge it to Soryu’s suite.”

I looked up at Soryu, whose expression revealed nothing. It was clear that I wasn’t going to get anything more from them, which was fine with me. I’d already decided that for the rest of the night, or week, or however long I was forced to lodge with someone, my one mission was make sure I did not engage any of these men romantically.

Without another word, I followed Soryu out of the penthouse lounge. I knew he wouldn’t speak much, and that was something that could work in my favor. If we didn’t speak, we couldn’t get to know each other. If we didn’t get to know each other, we couldn’t fall in love. If we couldn’t fall in love, I’d be able to eat, shower, sleep, and at least make it to tomorrow where I could try and focus on solving the problem at hand - how to get home.

I entered his suite silently, and once the door was closed, made my way to living area where I found a menu for room service.

“Yo,” I called out. “You want anything?”

I realized too late that I should have been more formal, but I figured a simple “Yo” probably wouldn’t be thing that made him fall head over heels in love with me. His eyes met mine, and he raised an eyebrow before shaking his head to indicate I was on my own with this food order.

“Hi could I get room service please? Soryu Oh’s room? That’s right…I guess I’ll have....well...what would you recommend?”

I’ll be honest, a lot of what got recommended I’d never heard of. I’d been to Japan once before in my life but was lucky enough to get taken around by some friends-of-friends who lived there, so a lot of the items that got thrown my was were unfamiliar to me. I decided to get the most American sounding menu item, the hamburg steak, thanked the guy on the other end of the phone, and hung up to see Soryu watching me quietly.

A part of me wanted to ask him why he was looking at me, but that went against my plan of saying as little as humanly possible. Instead, I booted up my phone, and decided to check out all the apps which had been replaced by cheap knock offs. I hoped there might be clues as far as who I was in this world, or how I might get back to mine.

Unfortunately, the phone and the apps were basically unused, and thus, left few clues behind. I opened the FriendFind app, and started to create a profile, but without my fake name, decided against it. In the TalkTime app, I entered Doctor Irie’s contact information, not because I was planning to contact him, but just in case.

After 30 minutes or so of tinkering with my new phone, I looked up to see Soryu still watching me. I wanted so desperately to ask him if he’d been watching me and why, but I had to stay strong. My eyes darted back down to my phone, similarly to how they did in New York when I made uncomfortable eye contact with men on the subway, and it was only after a minute that I realized Soryu wasn’t watching me, but instead was frozen in time.

“Hello?” I called out with trepidation.

“Hello Goldfish,” a voice responded haughtily, and moments later, several uniformed men appeared before.

For the first time all day I found myself smiling. The Department of Wishes had heard me after all.

To be continued…in PART 4 (click)

@lone-wolf155​ @mysticdaddies​ @01paige01 @picchebianca 

@hifftn (hope you don’t mind me tagging you, but I’ve seen you read original works and wanted to share this with you)

*if you want me to tag you or untag you in the next installment, please send me a message! And if you’ve enjoyed the story, please consider sharing it with a friend. The more readers the better!

Thanks for reading :)

#voltage fanfic #voltage fan fiction #voltage fandom #kbtbb fan fiction #kbtbb fanfic #star crossed myth fan fiction #star crossed myth fanfic #eisuke ichinomiya #mitsunari baba #mamoru kishi #soryu oh