#'til we meet again

[dearlyya]

TIL’ WE MEET AGAIN | Young!Silco x Fem!Reader

Series Summary; Silco tells a new story to a curious Jinx.

Warnings; Angst, pre-canon, hurt/comfort, Zaunites, Piltians, revolution, violence, blood, gore, drinking, smoking, gambling, swearing, sex, brothels, drugs, slow burn, the reader is a coward at first, original character (Wynn), strangers to lovers, bittersweet, Old Silco being weirdly sentimental, Jinx being noisy, and major character death.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | MASTERLIST

Silco's office door closes when Sevika takes her leave, his dual eyes stare indifferently into the wooden entrance.

Briefly resting his face on his hand so he can rub at his cheek bone. He flickers his irritation to the paper in front of him, reading through the documents neatly arranged on his desk. Flipping through it–His lengthy fingers daintaly holding up each page before letting them fall back in place.

Through habit he moves his chair to the left of the desk, opening up the middle drawer, taking out a small compact box, shutting the thing closed and placing the wooden box on the side of the desk, aiming to not dirty the papers. He opens the humidor, four expensive cigars lay neatly inside. Taking one of the sticks and the straight cutters, he fixes the cigar between his fingers and brings the sheers to the front and slides the stick in between the blades, and shuts the guillotine. 

SNAP!

He rolls back and turns the chair to face the large window, so that the green light that pours into the room which not only illuminates the furniture, but the kingpin as well–highlighting his features. His good eye blends with the light, the seafoam green melting away a stark contrast from the damaged one. The green clashes against the bright angry orange, the toxic waters of the Undercity fully displayed on the left of his face, the hard horrors of his youth.

Finally, he slips his hand into his vest. His delicate fingers glided over the finely knitted fabric of his striped burgundy shirt before delving into the soft contours of the breast pocket. With a practiced motion, his digits deftly retrieve a small, rectangular item. Something cold to the touch against his fingertips, the metal texture bumpy and slightly damaged. 

It's a lighter. Gray and metallic with a fancy lace eloping it–vines and roses, perfectly crafted to be comfortable to hold while simultaneously being bold and beautiful even with scratches and dents along the body. Silco caressed the carvings with the pad of his thumb. Specifically a scratchy name on the front of it. Until he was holding it properly, he extended it enough to flick the small thing open and ignite it.

The flame dances dimly, alone. Slico rolls the cigar in his fingers and hovers it over the fire, lighting the end of it. Flicking the lighter closed, he takes a long drag of the cigar. Savoring the smoke he inhales, holding the earthy smoke in his mouth. Not letting it fester for too long he puffs it out. 

Above him is an audible creaking followed by a loud thunk behind him, just then he felt his eye send a sharp pain throughout his face. He takes another drag, hoping that it eases his nerves. It does not. Huffing it out he turns the chair to face the girl sitting impatiently on his desk. Strews of papers now scattered about. Screw organization.

"You have impeccable timing," Jinx smiles and tilts her head side to side while lazily whipping the end of one of her braids of hair in a swirling motion. Jinx then scoots forward. The papers crumpled under her butt make the scooting easier, some falling off the edge. She places her feet in between Silcos spread legs, planting them firmly in place and with most of her leg strength she easily moves the chair with the bemused kingpin closer to the desk. The chair creaked as she did so. Jinx blows a raspberry and guiltily giggles. 

"Pfft- yeah just the best of timing, heh" She snatches the device out of the top drawer. Moving her legs she turns the chair to the right to pull him even closer, the armrest bumps roughly into the desk. Jinx plops her legs on top of his kicking her feet under the other armrest. The kingpin throughout this doesn't seem bothered, used to his daughter's theatrics. 

"You mustn't spy on me when I'm in a meeting" Silco narrows his eye at her, no actual malice in his expression. He positions the cigar away, so she doesn't smell it when he gently places it in the ashtray, not snubbing it out.

"Wasn't spying — just watching Ms. Righty" Jinx chuckles at her own morbid nickname, and drapes her forearm on Silcos head, as she leans on the chair. The device occasionally tapped against his temple. The blue-haired girl whines about being bored and how Sevika won't let her on jobs. Calling his right-hand an ogre that isn't cool or fun–but is, however, currently green as Jinx had shot her with paintballs. The reason why Sevika was fuming in his office not too long ago. Silco listens, nodding his head along to her rambles in a tired fatherly way. In his right hand he fidgets with the lighter. The glint reflecting off the window light brings the small thing to Jinx's attention. Abruptly stopping in the middle of her rant, watercolor eyes flickering at the silver most importantly at the poorly written name on the front of it.

"Watch'ya got there?" She hitches her leg up on the arm of the chair and rests her tilting head on her knee, unblinking eyes stare at the item in his hand. Silco unclenches the lighter and grips it with his fingers slowly handing it to the curious baby blue. She quickly picks the thing out of his grasp after dropping the device on the table with a low clank. She brings the lighter closer to her face, so she can fix on the smudged words, muttering under her breath "is that a 'a' or an 'b' or maybe a-?" she would've gone through the entire alphabet if Silco had not said her name to pull her out of her thoughts.

"What does this say, can you tell me?" Frantic, she moves the light far away from her face, dramatically turning her head to the patient kingpin, his hands hanging loosely between his thighs humming in a low tune, debating on entertaining her offbeat curiosity.

"Aww' c'mon I'm dying of boredom here!" Jinx flails around her spot before falling onto her back with her arms spread out on the desk, her head is to the left looking at the metal rectangle with a pout. Twirling it with her pink and blue nails. Silco sighs, looking at his suddenly sad daughter–he knows she's just playing him, he caves anyways. Not without teaching about bartering, when a certain stinging sensation occurs. The nerves of his left eye spread out to his scarred side, eating away at him.

"Administer my medicine, then I'll think about it" Jinx pouts, but hands him the lighter anyway. Grabbing the device that was left on the table. "Finnee-" Grumbling, she moves forward so she's close to his face and places the contraption over his eye. She waits, eyes flickering from the button on top to his bad eye. When her gaze finally looks at the good eye, she presses the button. Instantly, he shoots forward, straining in his seat as Jinx still holds onto his jaw. He tightens his grip on the light. The dose of shimmer elopes his eye–the red widening before shrinking back to an orange. The purple substance fighting away at the toxins left behind, a single shimmer tear runs down his scarred cheek. 

"Done! Now, tell me!" Jinx haphazardly drops the medical device on the desk, again. Pulling up her legs on the arm, so she can rest her head on knees, and dig her colorful nails into her muted maroon pants. She puts most of her body weight on the side of the chair, making it dip only slightly. Waiting for her father to catch his breath and follow up on his end of the bargain. Slicking his salt and pepper hair back, he leans into the chair. Adjusting his sitting and wiping away the tear before answering her.

"It reads Lady." 

"Why does it say that and why do you have something that says that and why is it so badly written?-" He sighs, still rubbing at the now disappeared shimmer. Jinx's questioning doesn't throw him off, his eyes narrow in amusement. "Will it ease your curious need about my youth if I told you it was from an old friend?" Jinx gives him a weird look.

"I thought you said we shouldn't hold onto the past and blah blah blah" Jinx begins to flap her hand in a talking motion. He grabs her wrist, making her look him in the eye. His face was serious.

"We shouldn't hold onto the past and let it consume us." He says sternly, letting her go when she begrudgingly nods. Jinx notices a fondness lit in his eye, as he then gestures to the lighter in his hand. The flame, as quickly as it appeared, dims away.

"That is more or less something nostalgic, a keepsake out of appreciation" Jinx looks at him then the lighter, then back at him. "For who?" Jinx asks. Silco smirks.

"An old friend"

"UGHHH" She dramatically flops down again, crossing her arms. Jinx begins to spin Silco, moving her legs accordingly, in an attempt at a punishment for making vague remarks. Silco lets her for only a moment, stopping her when he's fully faced in front of her by taking the leg off the armrest and letting it drop to the floor next to the other. Silco hums in thought.

"It was...from a past love of mine" From her sitting position, Jinx snaps her head up. Her attention gained back. She's not perturbed by this new information, her curiosity only grows. "Hehehe, you fancied someone?" She giggles, hunching over. Her hands either side of her thighs gripping the edge of the desk and kicking her hanging feet.

"Mhm, I did..." As memories of the past flood his mind, he forcefully wrestles himself from saying ‘I do’ . The past should linger in the past, and in the palm of his hand like a burdensome weight. Despite this, his thumb still circles around the lighter. In response, Jinx visibly slouched, her frown growing more pronounced.

"What happened?" Jinx knows now that this friend is no longer here, someone who was once close to her father–she began thinking. Her gaze flicks restless between Silco’s eyes, her hands fidgeting as they cling together. Her thumb incessantly rubs against her palm, creating a raw spot on her skin. Sensing the tension, Silco quietly places his hand on her knee, tenderly tracing comforting lines with his fingertips to ease her away from the rhythmic rubbing and her own reminiscing. 

He knows Jinx would ask non-stop about this subject, as if she were still the 12 year old that he took in years ago. Even if he did indulge Jinx in her possible endless quest of nagging him til’ he complies. He would have no idea where to begin, he’s sure that his late-companion would tell it differently, albeit dramatically. Jinx has learned through his lectures of betrayal, perhaps one on loyalty might have the same effect. 

"What happened to most Zaunites during the revolutionary years-" Silco lifts his head smoothly, his gaze hardening with growing anger. Behind the pride he feels for his expanding nation, he holds a knife to the throat of the ‘Nation of Progress’ Silco’s thoughts travel back to his last moment with her, realizing the irony that lies within the nickname of Piltover. With a cool deliberateness, Sico carefully considers his next words as he looks at his daughter. Who is seated with uncharacteristic patience. 

The cigar in the tray burns, forgotten. "-Perishing with no name under the cold gold-plated boot of Piltover"

[jmdbjk]

Please never change...

I love them.

Slowed down with audio:

[guavacat1347]

[funtheysaid]

That’s got to be the best, most insane, most satisfying, MOST FASCINATING season finale I’ve ever watched in my life. Holy fuck.

[flyinglowdown]

i have a dream. and that dream is cressida/eloise/lord debling

[unproduciblesmackdown]

from gilbert l. bailey ii (phil filmore) & then will roland (orville wingate)

& these production pics from gilbert as well, highest res version of the "lucky day" pic & the one with corbin bleu (joe ross) is new to me

[helluva-hazbins-most-fuckable]

pouring one out for the niffty fans

[joselandsallee]

You left and I was never the same again. 💔 I know you hear my cries. I can feel you near. I wish time wasn’t so cruel to us. I love you always

[angelgendered]

You know I was thinking. Since I was a ten year old and boys would ask me out as a joke, cos I was the fat autistic ginger nerd who no one wanted to be friends with, and they found that hilarious, up to being rejected recently by hookups in the past few months cos I'm not far enough in my transition or I'm too fat or too ugly or too much for some people, I've dealt with rejection and people laughing at me instead of loving me my whole pre teen-adult life.

Just thinking of damage done by a cis and heteronormative world, and how queer love is so healing and joyful and wonderful, and how I feel, at nearly 33, ready to commit to someone and be in it for the long haul because they like me DESPITE all my flaws. They love me for me and I love them for them and they're wonderful to me. They've never said an unkind word to me (and i believe them wholly that they never will and never have to anyoen else either). They've never asked anything of me that is unreasonable or I can't do. They've not laughed or run a mile when I talk about access needs like my chair, their only request being that they can still hold my hand while I show them off to the world.

It's been six months of 'getting to know you' and having fun together indulging in shared fandoms and writing together. For me, it's been about four-three months of pining and wanting. A little less time wishing and not daring to hope because I'm definitely punching above my weight lmao.

Idk. Something something queer love is being seen at your worst and not being judged. Queer love is joy, and happiness. Queer love is healing past trauma and being in it *together*. Queer love is everything.

And you know what for the first time in a long long time I'm gonna do some linocut guidelines and get them printed and transfer them to blocks and make some heartfelt art. Because they inspire me. They're my Muse, my love.

Bonus ramble in the tags about former unrequited and toxic 'love'.

[morethanwonderful]

Listened to At The End of The Earth by The Dear Hunter one too many times in a row and I've been filled with an unfathomable despair about Xi Ping and Zhou Ying again as a result

[dearlyya]

TIL’ WE MEET AGAIN | Young!Silco x Fem!Reader

Chapter One-Persistence; When a coward turns hero.

Warnings; Angst, pre-canon, hurt/comfort, Zaunites, Piltians, revolution, violence, blood, gore, drinking, smoking, gambling, swearing, sex, brothels, drugs, slow burn, the reader is a coward at first, original character (Wynn), strangers to lovers, bittersweet, Old Silco being weirdly sentimental, Jinx being noisy, and major character death.

A/N; I don’t do taglists, sorry. I also want to thank my friend for supporting my writing, proofreading, and character creation of Wynn. Love you, bro.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | MASTERLIST

Undercity is considered an industrial stain nestled beneath the grand city of Piltover.

With air that hangs heavy, and its people feral. Towering smokestacks belch black smoke into the already smog sky, casting long shadows over the cramped alleyways and buildings. The streets are strewn with discarded scrap metal, chemical waste, and other debris of the relentless production that drives the Undercity's economy. 

The warm green glow of the gas lamps casts an eerie, shimmering light over the buzzing market stalls and their wares. Cautious eyes dart about, gripping the crate tightly, as your knuckles white with tension. You trudge through the damp, uneven cobblestone path. Your heavy boots thud, but the market muffles the sound. Wynn strides ahead of you, his boysenberry hair reflecting the green making his hair almost black.

Both of you carry large, sloshing crates of alcohol that clink and bounce with each jostle from the crowded lane. Your tattered cloak draped your form, the hood pulled low to fight against the season's coldness and obscure your face from the lingering enforcers.

You instinctively glance at the enforcers standing near a stall, their voices raised in angry conversation with the stall’s owner, who appears equally irritated. They are likely issuing citations for illegal imports or contraband. Detailed by the other armored man holding up a list and pointing at the merchandise. However, when the vendor suddenly shoves one of them, you quickly avert your gaze, choosing to ignore the escalating commotion and focus on navigating the crowded marketplace.

Fighting wasn’t something you could do against the enforcers unless you’d want a hefty prison sentence or killed. So, you allow them to conduct their inspections and searches, gritting your teeth if their hands linger on your body for far too long.

You did dream of something better, a fictional land where all is peace and harmony, but that's wishful thinking. Life gave the Undercity people the short end of the stick, so now all you want is to keep your life, provide some aid to wanders, and of course keep the tavern: The Last Drop. Afloat.

Some vendors attempt to grab your attention, but you politely shake your head. Keep your eyes trained on Wynn who glides through the people with ease. You stumble and slip between people straining to keep up with your friend. Cursing under your breath at the fact that you could’ve gotten your supply runner to fetch the cargo, but no. Coins have been getting slimmer and slimmer at the drop. One of the many reasons why your resentment, once directed at the enforcers, began to shift towards the rebels who fought against them. While their cause was just, their tactics often made life even harder for the ordinary citizens of the Undercity. Strikes, protests, and their thievery disrupted supply lines which left families and businesses like yours struggling to make ends meet. Of course, this is only rooted in fear. 

Fear of losing more.

The mines that delve deep into Runeterra. Extracting precious minerals to fuel the insatiable demand. Workers in harsh conditions, their health and safety were often sacrificed for the sake of profit. Stark contrasts the cutting-edge innovation of Piltover ‘coexisting’ with the rampant corruption and exploitation they cause the city below them.

Down in the fissures, where deep cracks in the earth have split open, a treacherous underground network of tunnels and caverns caused by the relentless mining and drilling operations. Was bustling with the activity of workers, faces smeared with grime.

You and your father worked in those mines, and many families did. Your life narrowed down to one moment. A vivid horrible memory. You knew you should’ve put up a fight, and struggled against the enforcers alongside the others. When the tears finally spilled over, streaming down your face in hot, bitter rivulets. You couldn’t help but cower. You remember his body and the way the world seemed to tilt and spin around you.

When you pushed yourself up, letting go of a rusty pickaxe. A strong arm shoved you roughly back to the ground. It sent shockwaves through your malnourished body. Your coal-covered glove scraped against the unforgiving, rocky ground as you trembled uncontrollably, shaking like a frightened animal.

A cacophony of screams and desperate cries pierced everyone's ears like shards of glass. Through ‘The Gray’ smog you saw people–workers–were fighting against the enforcers with a fury born of desperation, their voices raw as they tried to reach your father, who was knelt on the ground, clutching the back of his head. Blood, vivid red against the rocks, drips steadily from his fingers, staining the earth beneath him. A macabre work of art. The sight of it sears itself into your mind, something you still see to this day.

Your wide eyes locked onto your father, drinking in every detail of his face, committing it to memory, as the screams and shouts faded into a distant, muffled hum.

He met your gaze, his expression was steady and calm despite the chaos that raged around you. He's trying so hard not to look frightened, putting on a brave face for your sake. He gulped, and in that tiny gesture, you saw the truth of his fear reflected in his eyes. But there's something else there too, a silent message of love and reassurance that told you that everything will be okay, that he'll protect you no matter what happens to him. 

But the man behind him, the one through the smog, the one who raises his gun high above his shoulder–tells a different story. The gun glints harshly reflecting off the gold on the enforcer. Quick to get to your knees, a firm kick sends you forward along with a harsh boot on your back keeps you in place. You cried out at the pressure, as you squirmed to get closer to your father. 

It's a swift blow, brutally efficient in its execution. The butt of the gun connected with the back of his head with a nauseating crack, and he crumpled to the ground. He fell face-first onto the unforgiving rocks. His body would twitch, but the last sliver of life drained away in an instant. You barely heard the final, choked-off words that he never got to finish. His last confession of "I love you" was stolen away by the cruel hand of fate.

Your breathing gets heavy when you remember, each intact a painful reminder of the life that still flows through your veins, even as everything else feels cold and numb. You shakily grip the case. It takes a special kind of strength, and true courage to stand up despite others bringing you down, to crush your hopes and dreams beneath the weight of their fears and insecurities.

You're not sure what you believe in anymore. That day the foundations of your world were shaken when the very ground beneath your feet shifted and crumbled, leaving you feeling lost and adrift in a sea of uncertainty before you were taken by the hand and brought up to a raft. You’ll always be grateful to Wynn. Though, all you know is that life is rather unfair, especially in the Undercity, and all you want to do is survive. Is that selfish? 

Perhaps you are one of those pushovers.

You were too lost in thought when you got pushed to the side, sending you to your left, and letting go of the crate to catch your fall, gritting your teeth you look up but notice it’s those same enforcers now carrying off that vendor's supplies. The one that shoulder checks you, gives you a look, and even with its helmet on you can tell that they’re testing your reaction. You look down at your crate. It’s open and bottles–thankfully not broken–have rolled out.

Maybe you've always been that way, content to let others make the decisions, to follow the path of least resistance rather than forging your way forward. But with the aftermath of your father's lifeless body that laid before you and the weight of powerlessness bearing down on your shoulders, you can't help but wonder if there isn't more to you than that.

Maybe, deep down, buried beneath the layers of fear and self-doubt, there is a spark of courage waiting to be ignited, a flicker of determination that just needs the right circumstances to flare into life.

You carefully lift each bottle to the crate, ensuring they are securely packed. Reaching for a bottle of scotch, your hand accidentally brushes against its neighbor, sending the bottle rolling away. It clicks and clanks across the cobblestone path before disappearing into the shadows of a nearby alley.

You pause, considering whether to retrieve the wayward bottle, but the risk of Wynn ringing your neck for wasting good money has you sighing. A broke bitch during inflation is someone you don’t want to mess with. You continue to pack the remaining bottles and get back to your feet, crate in arms.

No one notices you entering the alley, with your head hanging low. 

The ground is littered with discarded metal scraps, used needles, and unidentifiable substances. Peering from beneath your hood, you scan the area for any sign of the missing bottle, but your search becomes useless. Instead, you hear labored breathing and pained grunts from further down the narrow way. 

Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the scene before you. The glint of gold and blue uniforms mingles with the tattered red of the man's clothing. The sight is all too familiar. The enforcers’ figures huff up and down, laughing at each other in cruel satisfaction as they rain down blows on the man. Their boots connected with sickening thuds against his bloodied body. You can’t tear your eyes away from them. 

The right circumstance is all someone needs.

“Look at you, pathetic like the rest of those revolutionaries. You’re nothing but a filthy rat scurrying in the gutters and trash of refined people.” One of them coo, tilting their head at the body, you step closer.

You should move on, and let them take this man’s life if need be, so you can slip by unnoticed. It would be far more understandable than helping someone out of the kindness of your heart, but you have never felt such a surge of emotion before. The impending doom that bloomed in your gut yelling in your ear with a booming voice telling you that if you didn’t help this man you’d truly be the vermin that topside thinks you are. You can’t explain it to yourself, all your bitter-laced words and morals clashed when you heard them throwing those humiliating remarks. 

The right circumstance is all she needed.

The enforcers continue to beat him. You don’t think very much, the few thoughts that pass your mind are typically about personal survival, so thinking about beating these men into a pulp like they are with your fellow scum has you dropping the crate and racing towards them. Your heart is in your ears, bile backing up in your throat, as your coat flies off you. The knife you grip sinks into the nearest Piltie. Into their exposed armor between the helmet and chest plate. An honest, lucky blow to the neck.

He yelps, stopping his assault to cradle the wound that spurts blood between his gloved fingers. He staggers away as the other enforcer finally grasps the situation. With your dagger in the side of the other guy's neck, you quickly skimmed around the alley looking for a possible weapon, you spotted the bottle but you weren’t quick enough. The intact enforcer rushed at you and slammed you against the brick wall of a building. Your head hits it roughly dazing you. Your windpipe closes up when the enforcer pushes your throat with his forearm. His metal suit cuffs dig into your skin. You're frantic now. 

Shit–you didn’t think this through. Death was now a concrete possibility, and dying next to the man you tried so hard to save felt like the greatest irony. The pain shooting through your neck grew unbearable, causing tears to well up and cascade down your cheeks, despite the insults being thrown your way.

On this final night alive, you admit to yourself that you might have cared about the revolution after all. Your body was lifted off the ground, dangling up near this blue and gold-clad man. Both of your hands grip his gloves, trying to cause any damage by digging your nails into him. More tears roll. You weren’t crying because your own life was flashing before your eyes, but because you couldn’t save a symbol. A figure of hope.

The enforcer that you stabbed lays slumped against a gross dumpster, his hand weakly clawing at the stab wound in his neck. Crimson blood seeped through his armor, staining it a dark, glistening red. He twitched and spasmed as blood continued to spurt from the exposed injury. Despite everything a pang of guilt flickered in your chest. You had never taken a life before. Your gaze drifted to his neck, and realization dawned on you–your dagger was missing. As you slipped in and out of consciousness, the grip on your neck loosened.

The enforcer collapsed on top of you, pinning you beneath his weight as he sank to the ground his body took you with it. You coughed and gasped, and with a wave of nausea rising in your throat and bobbing pain around it you pushed the body off you. Looking up, you met the gaze of the man you had ‘saved’. He was huffing heavily, his eyes wide and wild mixed with shock on his pale face. 

Drenched in blood, sweat, and sporting bruises all over. His long hair clings to his face, some falling out of the low ponytail. His dark red tunic under a dirty gray cut-off vest. His body quivering on the brink of exhaustion. His gaze was glossy, only fueled by the last dose of adrenaline. With a final stumble, he crumpled to the ground. The knife in hand slipped away as he fell. You stare. Watching him lay defenseless, a newfound courage stirred within you, and for once in your life you know your stance. Now not cowering and licking the boots of those higher than you. You own up to the consequences, yet you still tremble. Your chest rose and fell with the rhythm of your heightened adrenaline as the footsteps of additional enforcers echoed.

You crawl to him, lowering yourself to his chest, and pray you still hear a heartbeat, and you do, it’s faint. Now kneeling, you carefully hoist his right arm over your shoulder, providing support for him to lean on. He was heavy, but his weight wasn’t overwhelming, allowing you to walk slowly with him. It was clear that he needed medical attention, and so did you. You can feel the cold blood dripping down the back of your head and the tight, painful bruise forming around your neck. You aren’t some hero, a normal citizen in a position of life and death—you’ll never become a foundation of hope in your city like in your childhood. 

And she never does. 

Your experience as a kid had given you an edge, as you used to steal from stalls and run away as they tried to chase you. Now, at the age of twenty, you thank your young self for your knowledge of the best shortcuts. It comes in handy when you hide with the unconscious man by your side, evading the enforcers who finally notice their dead brothers. From around the corner, you watch a group of them trek down the main street. You make your dash to the other side, going unnoticed.

“I got you, we’re almost there” Your voice croaks, not sure if you are trying to reassure the blacked-out man or yourself, probably the latter. There's a sign, not from Janna, but from The Last Drop. Dipping into the alley next to the tavern you head around back. Your arm that is wrapped around his slim torso is drying with his blood. More blood pools on your shoulder from his broken nose. You have to prop him up on the wall to open the cellar doors, and you both descend. 

Storage racks and unopened boxes flitter the basement. However, in the corner is a cot and stool. It’s the small medical area that you would use to aid people, usually, it was for small wounds like someone with a busted lip because they got into a fight in the bar.

So, with an injured rebel who hangs on your shoulder, you are well below practice. You manage to push the battered man off you and onto the cot. He slumps halfway off the bed, so you gently roll him back, carefully lifting his legs one by one to fully position him on the cot. Your hands tremble slightly as you work, the adrenaline running thin. 

You run a hand over your hair, feeling the back of your skull. As you bring your hand back to your eyes, you’re met with deep red staining your fingers. Your wound hits you, and you finally grasp the pounding headache you have. You slowly sit on the stool beside the cot.

“Shit” You mutter, your voice barely above a whisper, despite your possible concussion your priority is the very wanted rebel to your left. Take a deep breath to steady yourself and assess him.

His chest heaves in sparse, and uneven breaths through his busted nose. He’s still grasping onto the little energy his body has left to give. You rub up the bridge of your nose. The gravity of harboring a wanted revolutionary is not lost on you. Though at this moment, all that matters is saving his life, and not falling over while doing it. 

You lean onto your elbows while sitting, glancing at the empty bucket and washcloth, getting ready to work.

[skeeterdakreeper]

[fallloverfic]

Censorship of panels in the Chinese print release of 再见, 我的国王/See You My King by Wen Yuan

This has probably been brought up before somewhere because it's been out for a while, particularly in China, but the Chinese physical release of Volume 2 of 再见, 我的国王/See You My King/The King and Me/Til We Meet Again, My King by Wen Yuan showed up at last for me (there's no English physical release currently, though there is a Spanish release of volume 1) and it is a very pretty volume, it's high quality, the art is lovely, the included extras are pretty, but wow... I thought the censoring of the digital version was bad, but the physical version removes the Veelaveesa/Evetiti kiss and part of their cuddling in their bedroom, and that's not even the tip of the iceberg for how egregious the censoring is.

This isn't my first danmei rodeo, I know Chinese censorship of m/m is bad and worse than even I know, and getting worse, and I know that some cropping/removals happen even without that targeted censorship because of transferring comics made to be viewed on a phone to a book. But I didn't know that even the digital version that was allowed through would be censored for printing (I've seen the Chinese raws), and what's been removed is still really bad for such a relatively chaste comic. Just going through it on my own has been depressing. It's also weird in the sense that some of the official merch has stuff that's censored in the books on it (e.g., I've got cards from two different card sets with a cropped panel uncropped on it, and a shikishi of a panel that's been cropped).

Please support the digital release on Tappytoon and/or Tapas, and the Kuaikan app if you can manage it. I hope an English publisher gets it for physical release and restores the removed and cropped panels, because this is just sad. (I mean I already wanted a better English release cause the translation Kuaikan sends Tappytoon and Tapas is terrible, but this is worse than bad translation). And I guess support the official merch when you can cause at least in China that's the only way these are ever getting printed. My hope is that if they're willing to send the uncensored pages to be translated for reading presumably outside of China (both Tappy and Tapas are Korean companies), maybe a non-Chinese publisher would publish the uncensored release? The preview of the Spanish volume 1 includes a lot of the panels removed for the Chinese volume 1.

I went through and compared the Tappytoon to physical Chinese releases, because it's not just the stuff you'd expect, given this series is pretty light, in order to avoid, I imagine, further censorship online. Most of what's been removed is when the leads hold hands or hug/otherwise very chastely embrace. I don't include every instance of cropping because that would be way more. But most of what I found is beneath the read more:

S01E02 vs Volume 1, p.40-1: The physical release removed a panel of Zhang Li holding Rocky's hand (panel below)

S01E02 vs Volume 1, p.42-3: The physical release removed two panels of Zhang Li touching Rocky's face and Rocky smiling (panels below)

S01E03 vs Volume 1, p.45+: The physical release cropped one panel in half to largely hide the fact Rocky is sitting next to Zhang Li, and entirely removed 10 other panels, featuring Rocky and Zhang Li kind of cuddling and Zhang Li in bed with Rocky close to him (uncropped panel below)

S01E03 vs Volume 1, p.63-64: The physical release removed two panels, including one where Zhang Li is holding Rocky and another about their hands breaking free of each other, covered over part of a third to, I imagine, hide the fact they're holding hands (panels in full below)

S01E03 vs Volume 1, p.67: The physical release covered up a flashback panel of a scene that was somehow left in from earlier, to probably hide the kiss part (uncovered panel below)

S01E04 vs Volume 1, p.74-75: The physical release removed a panel of Zhang Li smiling as he pulls his shirt collar open and tells Rocky to bite him

S01E04 vs Volume 1, p.78: The physical release cropped the panel where Rocky puts the earring on Zhang Li so you can't see Zhang Li's expression

S01E04 vs Volume 1, p.86-87: The physical release removed seven panels of Zhang Li reaching out to catch a collapsing Rocky and then holding him, and later Rocky holding Zhang Li's neck tenderly and also putting the necklace on him

S01E04 vs Volume 1, p.88-89: The physical release removed eight panels of a slow and implied but not shown kiss between Zhang Li and Rocky, as well as Rocky holding Zhang Li's face (a nearly-identical panel where Rocky is gone is left in)

S01E05 vs Volume 1, p.106-107: The physical release removed a flashback panel of part of S01E04 that was also removed in the physical release

S01E05 vs Volume 1, p.108-109: The physical release removed two flashback panels of Rocky bringing Zhang Li water and a panel of Zhang Li smiling as he reaches for Mohemisi's hand

S01E06 vs Volume 1, p.12: The physical release cropped a panel where Evetiti grabs Zhang Li to hide the more intimate-looking nature of the embrace, particularly that Evetiti is holding Zhang Li's arm

S01E06 vs Volume 1, p.128: The physical release removed two flashback panels of previous scenes, one of which was a part of S01E04 that was also removed in the physical release

S01E08 vs Volume 1, p.154: The physical release removed a panel of Evetiti holding out his hand to Zhang Li (weirdly doesn't remove them holding hands given the propensity for this release to remove any men holding hands, including Evetiti holding Zhang Li's hand in S01E06)

S01E11 vs Volume 2, p.14: The physical release cropped most of the upset falcon out of the panel

S01E11 vs Volume 2, p.15: The physical release cropped out the borb entirely. This isn't exactly a censoring issue, it's just sad. (uncropped section below)

S01E11 vs Volume 2, p.18: The physical release heavily cropped a panel of Mohemisi facing Zhang Li

S01E12 vs Volume 2, p.20: The physical release cropped out a flashback panel of Mohemisi and Zhang Li standing together

S01E12 vs Volume 2, p.23: The physical release cropped a panel of Mohemisi having his face close to Zhang Li's so only Zhang Li's nose is visible

S01E12 vs Volume 2, p.24: The physical release partially covered a panel of Mohemisi holding Zhang Li's hand on the wall so you can't see him holding Zhang Li's hand

S01E12 vs Volume 2, p.28: The physical release cropped a panel to almost entirely remove Evetiti and Mohemisi, though you can still see the top of Evetiti's hair and Mohemisi's Anubis ears

S01E12 vs Volume 2, p.30: The physical release cropped a panel of a guard pushing Zhang Li forward so you can't see the guard

S01E12 vs Volume 2, p.31: The physical release removed a panel of Zhang Li facing the audience

S01E13 vs Volume 2, p.40: The physical release cropped a panel of Mohemisi holding Zhang Li so that Zhang Li + Mohemisi holding him is not at all visible

This iconic panel? Remember this? Butchered. And it's weird because it's been printed in full before on at least two official merch releases. They also cropped a close-up shot so you can't see Mohemisi's fingers on Zhang Li's face.

S01E13 vs Volume 2, p.41: The physical release cropped a panel of Mohemisi pushing Zhang Li away (I imagine because Zhang Li is sitting between Mohemisi's legs)

S01E13 vs Volume 2, p.44: The physical release removed four panels of Zhang Li trembling as he picks up the dead priest and Mohemisi observing

S01E13 vs Volume 2, p.47: The physical release removed the close-up panel of other guards carrying out the corpse (this might be because China has certain rules about showing corpses, but it's my understanding this only has to do with depicting zombies, not dead people generally; there's still another panel where they're carrying the body out and Zhang Li/Mohemisi aren't doing anything else in the removed panel other than standing near each other)

S01E13 vs Volume 2, p.48: The physical release cropped out most of Zhang Li's body

S01E13 vs Volume 2, p.49: The physical release removed a panel of Mohemisi's face (this might be to remove a sort of repeat panel)

S01E14 vs Volume 2, p.60: The physical release cropped a panel to remove the lower bodies of Zhang Li and Evetiti

S01E14.5 vs Volume 2, p.74: The physical release removed 14.5 entirely: this is the flashback where a guy and a woman try to seduce Zhang Li in the rain, and Rocky arrives to bring him an umbrella, and they go home, with a flash forward to Zhang Li in the water with the red crystal (that's 36 panels)

S01E15 vs Volume 2, p.75: The physical release cropped part of the panel to show Zhang Li is staring at the crystal, which the intruder tried to take (a lot of changes remove what you're meant to be focusing on in panels)

S01E15 vs Volume 2, p.88: The physical release cropped a panel to again remove Zhang Li in entirety (he gets cut out a lot when he's not doing anything?)

S01E16 vs Volume 2, p.93: The physical release cropped a panel where Zhang Li is holding the jealous guard so you can't see what Zhang Li is doing; also cut a close-up panel into pieces so you can't really tell they're connected and removes the closeness of them together, and removed a panel of Zhang Li touching the guy's throat

S01E16 vs Volume 2, p.94-6: The physical release removed another panel of Zhang Li holding the jealous guard, and cropped two panels so you can't really tell that Mohemisi and Zhang Li are together (Mohemisi is almost entirely cropped out of these panels), and removed four other panels, including two of the leads together (with Zhang Li pushing between Mohemisi's legs), and another of the guard seeing them together

S01E16 vs Volume 2, p.97: The physical release did a lot of cropping here

S01E17 vs Volume 2, p.121: The physical release cropped a panel to remove a good chunk of Evetiti's body

S01E18 vs Volume 2, p.134: The physical release cropped a panel so you can't see Zhang Li holding Mohemisi's ankle (you could on the previous page, though, and you can still see Zhang Li holding Mohemisi's foot with his left hand; there's been a lot of cropping in previous pages, cutting whole people out, this just might be more targeted)

S01E18 vs Volume 2, p.136: The physical release cropped the panel of Mohemisi lounging sexily in the bath >:( (this might just be an accidental victim of the medium change; there are other shots later of Mohemisi's chest + legs)

S01E19 vs Volume 2, p.145: The physical release cropped the panel of Veelaveesa kissing Evetiti but for Zhang Li's head; also entirely removed Evetiti (being kiss-dazed) from the panel where Veelaveesa is glaring at Zhang Li

S01E19 vs Volume 2, p.146: The physical release removed a panel where Evetiti is talking to Veelaveesa about the hypothetical scenario of Evetiti topping Zhang Li (nothing really happens in the panel, it's just chibi Evetiti holding Zhang Li while they're standing)

S01E19 vs Volume 2, p.148: The physical release removed the panel where Veelaveesa is holding Evetiti and warning him about being wary, and cropped Evetiti out of a panel with Veelaveesa

S01E19 vs Volume 2, p.156: The physical release removed the panel where Veelaveesa is cupping Evetiti's head while Evetiti hugs Veelaveesa

S01E21 vs Volume 2, p.191: The physical release removed the panel that shows Zhang Li is kissing Mohemisi's palm

There's a lot of other cropping I don't mention because this was not something I expected to spend today doing, but this gets the most egregious stuff. A ton of stuff is removed/covered... It's just sad. And for the record, while it still has a couple spots of censoring physical injury, there's still a decent amount of blood and violence left uncensored. They're mainly targeting any instances of m/m stuff.

[country-n-sassy]

I can't believe it's been 2 years. There's so much I wish I could tell you and so many things you've missed

You should be here.

I miss you so much, until we meet again, know I love you and miss you every day ❤️

If I could trade you places, I would. My heart will never be the same. 💔