#have i known this since i first read volume 1 five years ago? yes. but i felt like i needed to finish it before i made anything official--
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Fruits Basket Diaries, #7: Conclusion
[see part 1 here]
[see part 6 here]
I mentioned in part 2 that I was planning to do an analysis on Shigure somewhere in this series. Well, I've tried drafting it a few times now, and I still have no idea how to string my thoughts on him together. I think that writing about him would require another reading of the series, so that's something for me to look forward to! A note on why he's my favorite character (tied with Ayame, of course) for curious parties, though: suffice it to say that I get very anxious when I feel like I'm being controlled, so Shigure, with his air of uninvolvement in, well, pretty much everything, is my ideal parental figure.
I'll start with a story, one which, if I had bothered to write it down at the time, would have been a poem a few months ago. I used to say I grew up in Texas; that's where I fell in love with writing, after all, and made friends closer than any I had before. But a few months ago, I was walking through my old neighborhood in the state I currently call home, the place I lived throughout middle school and most of high school after moving away from Texas, and I felt a burst of nostalgia for what I can only describe as a second childhood. This, I decided, is where I grew up, too.
I imagined, for the longest time, a lost youth in Texas, a time pre-abuse where I was an ambitious, outgoing person now lost to mental illness, someone who, though I can logically understand her as me, I cannot claim the experiences of because of our disconnection--I feel a gulf between us, a two-year void of pain I still struggle to name. I grew up once, and it ended with flashbacks and panic attacks, my willingness to explore having been brutally burned away, I believed. Now I'm stuck this way, with not even memories of childhood to go back to. But I suppose I've proven myself wrong: PTSD and all, I grew up again in a new place, post-abuse. In my new home, I picked up new kinds of writing with an obsessiveness befitting my younger self; I discovered romantic love, supposedly a staple of coming-of-age but something I had never felt in my first childhood. When I lived in Texas, my life began to branch out, opening up to a thousand possibilities for beauty. Then it all burned down, and then, against all my expectations, the growing started again.
I can see Fruits Basket, now that I've finally finished the series, as a manifestation of this change. During my first read, it was just a coping mechanism to deal with depression; during the second, a window into the mind of the haunted self who had read it the first time around. This time around, all hell broke loose, but in the best way possible--I've written about all sorts of topics in Fruits Basket, left a thousand sticky notes throughout the 23 volumes, surprising myself with how much of this writing is about, well, not-abuse. PTSD often makes me feel like I'm living the same few years on infinite loop--recreating the same relationship dynamics, feeling the same intense emotions, shutting down in the same way I did all those years ago. But these days, I have so much more to say than I thought I did--I grew up again, and that means so much has happened in my life that trauma hasn't stolen from me. I have so much to talk about--years' worth of varied, vibrant life. I had my second childhood, years spent in a new, colorful world just waiting for me to explore it. Don't get me wrong, my worst years will probably have me in a stranglehold for a good long while, but I realize there is so much more to me. I'm a lesbian genderqueer-being-thing who loves talking about all things queerness; I'm a hopeless romantic who, while tired of love, can't quite bring myself to erase it from my life; I'm a childish adult who sees my mannerisms reflected in Tohru, Momiji, and Ayame.
In short, Fruits Basket was exciting. Throughout the time I spent reading the manga this summer, I was vivid, constantly chattering and giggling to myself about some idea or other in the story. I never feel more like myself than when I'm bursting at the seams with a thousand things to say, so Fruits Basket, with its buzzy, energetic plot and dedication to developing its ensemble cast, made me feel more human than I've felt in a long while. I'm so glad I finally got to finish reading this series, a project five-ish years in the making!
From the start, the characters from Fruits Basket have been a family for me, models for the messy but also loving and colorful life that I so badly craved back in 2017, when I first encountered volume 1. And now--now I have that life. I grew into it, growing up again, throughout high school, and now some of the newness is gone--I'm more settled at my writing desk; my tastes in music, books, and people are much more established; all my future loves will emerge, likely more successful, from my experiences with my first ones. Though there will always be new things, I now have a home, both metaphorical and physical, I can call my own and return to after a long day of the chaos that is this world. Fruits Basket was once the only family I felt connected to, a source of warmth and light I couldn't find elsewhere; today, I'm blessed with more than one family, and my mind is a source of warmth all on its own. I'm proud to say that I became what I loved so much about Fruits Basket back in 2017: messy, loving, colorful.
So, um, wow. Yes, Fruits Basket holds up; I think it actually got better for me over time, my more experienced self able to find even more richness in it than I did before. In chapter 69, Haru tells Yuki that he thinks the unknowns of student council are good for Yuki, and I love how, in Fruits Basket Another, Natsuki Takaya gives only limited glimpses of original main characters, obscuring their faces and making few references to their current lives and personalities. She leaves her original characters to their unknowns; for the longest time, characters like Tohru, Yuki, and Kyo had very limited agency, but once we let them go at the end of Volume 23, she respects their ability to be whoever they want now that they're free. So, for the time being at least (believe you me, when I decide I want to reread this series no library can stop me), I'll leave everyone from Fruits Basket to their unknowns, to lives that get to be completely theirs, and I'll face my own. If I can become chock-full of words and experiences in just a few years, able to blabber on and on about all sorts of things in Fruits Basket that I never would have thought deeply about before, I can only imagine the range of possibilities for the rest of my life. Right now, I'm thinking a walk sounds about right. It's sunny out!
#six grows up#thanks for joining me during this series! tracking my reading in this way was really fulfilling and i can't wait to do it again :)#overall fruits basket has officially earned a place on the faves list!!!#have i known this since i first read volume 1 five years ago? yes. but i felt like i needed to finish it before i made anything official--#fruits basket diaries#fruits basket manga#fruits basket#cw abuse#cw child abuse#cw ptsd
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Walk On By - Part 1
shoutout to @harrylefleur for this^ amazing edit!! thanks again for letting me use it, it’s perfect!!
A/N: hello!! i’ve been slowly cooking up this 70s dealer!harry au (also known as shroomrry) fic ever since the first italy pics surfaced. i had a lot of fun writing this, so i hope you have fun reading it! another massive thank you to brailey @daydreamsofh for yelling about shroomrry with me since the very first rough draft. your encouragement and support means so much to me!! ily <3
****DISCLAIMER/WARNING: This fic includes scenes in which characters purchase and consume recreational drugs (psilocybin mushrooms) as well as purchase and consume alcohol. If any of this makes you uncomfortable, please do not feel pressured to read or interact with this fic. And do not consume if you are underage.****
You’re simply buying magic mushrooms from Harry. However, if you keep running into each other, is it going to stay that simple?
word count: ~5k
🌈✨🍄✨🌈✨🍄✨🌈✨🍄✨🌈✨🍄🌈
**August 30th, 1977, Inglewood, California**
The evening sun beats down on you as soon as you step off the bus. You walk away from the door before reaching for the sunglasses hanging from the collar of your shirt and slip them onto your face before wiping the small beads of sweat from your brow.
“Stuffiest bus ride of my life.” Your roommate and partner in crime, Jenny, walks over to your side. She leans her head back and groans toward the sky, as if to broadcast her misery to anyone that will listen.
“Really? I thought it was a five star experience,” you reply flatly.
Jenny scoffs and looks at you in disgust before shoving your shoulder. “What bus were you on then?”
Your laughs quickly turn into blissful sighs of relief when a breeze picks up. A brief intermission from the heat and residual stickiness on your skin from the crowded bus ride.
“You’ve still got the tickets and the money, right?” Jenny asks.
“Yep.” You pat your purse. “You’ve still got that guy’s license plate number, right?”
Jenny reaches into her pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper, “Yep.”
**********************************
The sign outside of the Forum looms over your heads as you enter the parking lot. The large black letters on the sign simply read ‘FLEETWOOD MAC. NIGHT TWO. SOLD OUT’. Even more gigantic is the Forum itself. You’ve been to a couple of shows at this venue before today, but you still can’t get over just how massive it is. It makes you feel so small even when you’re standing one hundred feet away from it.
Your mind begins to buzz with excitement and anticipation knowing that you’ll soon be inside seeing possibly one of the most in-demand shows of the year. It’s incredibly lucky that you were able to score these tickets anyway. Having a job at a radio station definitely has its perks.
You’re pulled out of your thoughts by Jenny’s nudging elbow. She holds the paper that has the numbers and letters of a license plate number scrawled on it in front of both of you.
“He drives a blue Pontiac Tempest. He said he was gonna try to park in the third row,” she says.
Both of you look at the paper for a minute, trying to commit the number to memory before setting out to comb the parking lot in search of this mystery man.
With all the other people milling around and gathering in the line outside of the venue, you wonder how many of these people are on a similar mission as you and your friend.
You turn to Jenny, “Do you know what this Harry guy looks like?”
“Uh,” Jenny draws out before pulling her gaze from the line of cars beside her. “My cousin Kathryn said he’s white,” she begins listing things off on her fingers, “has brown hair, has a lot of tattoos, and he’s British,” she looks at you and wiggles her eyebrows.
Jenny laughs when you roll your eyes, “Oh my god I know he’s British. You’ve been going on and on about how he sounded on the phone.” You walk a few more paces before asking, “How does she know him again?”
“They work together at the record store. You probably would have already met him if you weren’t so pretentious about where you buy your records.”
You switch from scanning over license plates to squinting at Jenny, “I’m not pretentious, the owner of that place is just an asshole.”
“You say that about nearly every record store owner.”
“Only the ones that are fifty year old men who constantly degrade female customers’ music tastes.”
Jenny sighs. “Yeah, you’re right. Most of them are assholes.”
“Hey, maybe with your business degree you can be the first record store owner that’s not an asshole.”
She smiles at you and taps her temple with her index finger. “That’s not a bad idea.” Her eyes flit over your shoulder. She stops abruptly and grabs your arm, “Oh-- hey, I think that’s him right there.”
You turn to follow her gaze. Immediately you spot the blue car. You both take another look at the note in Jenny’s hand. Sure enough, the license plate on the car in front of you is a perfect match.
So this is Harry. He has his head down and his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration just beneath the frames of his yellow sunglasses. There’s a pencil behind his right ear and his left elbow is resting on the door frame, sticking out of his rolled down window, while his fingers are mindlessly fiddling with his neat mustache. On that same arm, you see scattered tattoos that begin at his wrist and run all the way up into the sleeve of his green and white striped t-shirt. You weren’t sure what you had been expecting of this man, but you can’t help but be struck by how handsome he is. The low hanging sun is casting golden light through his back window, shining through the ends of his brown tousled hair.
The pressure of a hand on your back pushing you forward causes you to whip around.
“Could you go talk to him?” Jenny asks softly.
You give her a ‘what are you talking about?’ look, “You’ve already spoken to him on the phone, Jen, he doesn’t know me.”
“I mentioned you,” she pleads. “Ugh I know I talked to him on the phone but now that I see him in person I’m too nervous.”
You take another look at Harry and look back to Jenny. “Okay, come on.”
As you get closer to his car with Jenny trailing behind you, you begin to hear the music blasting from his radio. Hearing the chorus of “Dancing Queen” somehow makes this situation a touch less intimidating.
You take your sunglasses off your face and hang them from the collar of your shirt. You clear your throat once you feel like you’re close enough, hoping this would catch his attention. When he doesn’t move, you open your mouth only to realize that you have no idea what you want to say.
“Um,” you hesitantly mumble to yourself as you reach up and knock on the top frame of his window.
He slightly jumps and pulls his arm into the car in response. He mutters a ‘fucks sake’ before quickly turning his head to you, his eyebrows now creased in aggravation.
You jerk your hand back to your side. You’re not sure if it’s the pressure of having to do the talking or his intense stare, but you suddenly can't seem to string a full sentence together.
“Hi. Sorry. I, er--, we... um. We were supposed to--”
Harry looks past you to glance at Jenny and his face softens. He reaches over to turn the radio down before pointing his finger between the two of you, “Kathryn’s friends?”
“Yes,” you sigh in relief.
He nods, brushes a few stray hairs from his forehead and tilts his head toward the passenger seat. “Yeah, come on in.”
Hearing his soft British accent is a lot more endearing than Jenny’s annoying impressions of what he sounded like on the phone.
Jenny follows you around to the passenger side door and you pull on the handle.
When it doesn’t open, you reach through the window for the lock. You freeze when Harry’s hand meets yours. You lower your head slightly to look through the window and see him leaned over, still staring at your hands that are both grabbing the lever. He looks up at you and slightly shakes his head.
“Sorry,” he mumbles as he pulls his hand away and reaches to lean the passenger seat forward.
You open the door and gesture for Jenny to climb in first. After you get in and close the door behind you, you plop down in the back seat next to Jenny, who’s sitting behind Harry. You do your best to hold back a hiss when the heat from the light blue leather seats burns through your trousers and the back of your thin t-shirt.
The car smells fresh and is very tidy aside from a few crushed gum packages on the floorboard. Two little tree air fresheners hang from his rearview mirror, swaying in the slight breeze. You peep down to his dashboard and smile.
“I like your stickers,” you blurt out, pointing to the smiley face sticker and the strawberry sticker above the volume and tuning dials on his radio. Mostly, you’re trying to make amends for startling him a second ago, but you’re also trying to dispel some of your nerves that are still fluttering around in your stomach. The mental image of him peeling stickers from a sheet and putting them on there himself seems to be helping a little bit.
“Thanks.” He cracks a smile over his shoulder. You catch a glimpse of a dimple indenting his cheek. You visibly relax your shoulders upon seeing a change in his demeanor. “Would you mind reminding me of your names?” He asks, taking a glance at his rearview mirror.
You both introduce yourselves.
“So it was you that I spoke with on the phone last week?” he asks, turning in his seat and looking at Jenny.
“Yeah, that was me,” she grins.
“Right,” he huffs. “So I know what you’re both really here for but,” he trails off as he reaches into his lap and holds up a folded newspaper, displaying the daily crossword puzzle. “Are either of you any good at these?” He shakes his head, “I’ve got like... three left and it’s driving me crazy.”
Jenny hums as she takes the paper from Harry’s hand and holds it up between you. Coincidentally, Jenny happens to be very good at these puzzles, often taking this same section out of the paper every day.
She puts her finger up to the page and begins counting the boxes in one of the columns. “Fourteen down is ‘questionnaire’.”
As you skim over the page, you catch an error that could be hanging him up. “And seven across is misspelled. ‘Memento’ should start with M- E- instead of M- O-.”
Both of you look back up at Harry and Jenny hands the paper back.
In the same motion he takes the paper from Jenny and takes the pencil from behind his ear. He sets the paper on his center console and brings his bottom lip between his teeth as he erases and fills in the boxes on the puzzle.
You and Jenny exchange a private laugh. If anyone had asked the both of you to predict how this interaction was going to go, this would not be part of it.
“Well. Thanks. It probably would have taken me forever to get those.” He tosses the paper and pencil on the floorboard in front of the passenger seat and uses his finger to push his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Now, do you have cash with you?”
The shift in his tone catches you off guard, the friendly lilt in his voice being replaced by one more quiet and flat.
Jenny looks over at you.
“Oh yeah, sorry.” You pull four ten dollar bills from your purse and hand them to Harry.
He fans them out before folding them twice and putting them in his pocket. He opens his console. There’s some shuffling before he closes it again and carefully passes you two small envelopes. “Should be one gram in each of those.”
You lean forward in an attempt to shield your actions from people who may be passing by. Carefully, you break the tape seals across the front of the envelopes with your thumb and take a peek inside. Satisfied with the amount of shriveled mushrooms you see, you reseal the envelopes and stuff them into your purse.
“You’ve both taken these before, right?” Harry asks.
“Yeah, a few times before this,” Jenny says.
“Nice. So you know they usually take about half an hour to start working and you’re probably in for about four to six hours of effects and all that?”
“Yeah,” you and Jenny say in unison.
“Okay, I just-- I always want to make sure, you know?” Harry scratches his chin and looks to the side in thought. “Did you drive here?”
You shake your head. “No, we took the bus. And Alice, our friend, is gonna pick us up after the concert.”
He nods, “Okay, good.” He lowers his voice. “The last thing I’ll say is I’ve seen quite a few cops around so… if I were you I’d duck into a bathroom or something to take those.” He slightly raises his hands, “But obviously all of that’s up to the both of you so…” he trails off and shrugs. “Ultimately I hope you both have fun.” He looks at you with a sincerity that puts you at ease. It makes you feel a lot better that he seems to genuinely care about both of you being safe and having an enjoyable experience. You can’t say the same for other dealers you’ve come in contact with.
“We’ll just see what happens I guess,” you shrug back.
“I think we should head in now.” Jenny says, craning her head past Harry to look at the line of people. She pats the back of his seat. “Thanks so much, we really appreciate it.”
“Sure, was great to meet you both.”
“Was good to meet you. Are you going to the show as well?” you ask while reaching forward for the door handle.
He instantly perks up. “I am. Managed to get a ticket. It’s in the nosebleeds but…”
“I had nosebleeds when Queen was here a few months ago and it was still a fantastic show,” you reassure him. You climb out and hold the door for Jenny. “I’m sure you’ll have a great time. Take care!”
You close the door and wave goodbye.
You and Jenny link arms as you’re walking toward the venue, and extra spring in your steps after jumping that hurdle.
She whispers, “I told you he was British.”
“Jen.” You roll your eyes and elbow her side.
You look over at your friend who’s now covering her mouth with her hand, poorly concealing her laughter. You steal a glance over your shoulder. The last thing you see before you turn back around is Harry staring directly back at you.
**********************************
Jenny walks in front of you, weaving through the groups of people as you both search for a water fountain to wash the earthy taste of the mushrooms from your mouths.
You both join the line behind the fountain closest to the main entrance. When Jenny leans down to take a drink, you spot a familiar green and white striped shirt amongst the crowd of people streaming in. Harry is strolling by, heading toward the arena entrance.
He glances in your direction and does a double take. He instantly grins and raises his eyebrows at you, giving you a thumbs up before mouthing ‘have fun’ and disappearing around the corner.
Your cheeks warm and your stomach flutters.
After you’ve had a drink from the fountain, you and Jenny make your way into the expansive arena and join the crowd of people in general admission.
About half way through the opening act, just as you’re about to ask Jenny if she feels anything happening yet, you see her looking at you fervently and everything around you starts to feel dream-like. The spotlights on the stage begin to look like halos, making it impossible for you to turn away. You start to feel as if the music you’re hearing is coming from your own body. The drum beat bursting through your chest and every note from the guitars coming from the tips of your fingers and the ends of your hair.
The euphoria of being surrounded by love and joy takes over you, making you laugh and dance and sing until the music comes to an end.
**********************************
You’re sitting on the sidewalk outside of the Forum, legs crossed in front of you with your elbows resting on your knees and your head resting in your hands. The concrete has finally cooled off after the heat of the day. You’re hunched over, currently transfixed by a trail of ants marching along the smooth surface in front of you.
“It’s like you can hear all their little footsteps,” you say, your eyes open wide in awe.
Jenny, who’s sitting across from you in a similar position, giggles in response to your observation before gasping. “I hear them too.”
Both of you snort and break out into unrestrained laughter. It’s never felt so good to have the sound of laughter ringing through your ears.
After a moment, you start to hear the sound of something else. It sounds like your name is being called, but it’s not coming from Jenny. You hear your name again, closer now. It sounds as if it’s echoing from the enormous wall of the Forum right next to you. Your eyebrows pull together in confusion and curiosity as you slowly turn your head to look over your shoulder.
You’re immediately filled with excitement upon seeing the friendly face walking toward you.
“Harry!” you exclaim, waving wildly.
A smile spreads across his face and you swear little sparkles appear next to his dimples.
You can’t take your eyes off of him as he makes his way over to stand next to you and Jenny. You have to crane your head back to see his face from your position on the ground.
“Hey, you alright?” he eyes both of you curiously.
You simply nod in response.
“What are you guys still doing here?”
Jenny sighs as if this is the twentieth time he’s asked, “We’re waiting for Alice.”
“Well,” he trails off while scratching the back of his head, “you probably don’t know this, but the concert ended about two hours ago.”
For whatever reason, this sends you and Jenny into a fit of howling laughter.
Jenny suddenly stops and looks at you wide eyed. “Hey, lets just take the bus home.”
You gasp and grab Jenny’s shoulder, marveling at her great idea. “The bus! Let's take the bus!”
You rise up to your knees with a newfound surge of energy and Jenny follows.
“No no no no no,” Harry surges forward and presses one of his hands on your shoulder and the other on Jenny’s, urging both of you to sit down.
He sinks to the ground along with you, propping himself on one knee. “Do you have Alice’s number with you? I can try giving her a call?”
It takes you a minute to realize that he’s speaking to you. “Yeah I have my address book in my purse--,” you look down to your side and freeze at the sight of the zipper on your bag. Your stomach drops. You definitely do not want to put your hands anywhere near the jagged edges of the zipper that are suddenly taking on the shape of menacing teeth.
You barely hear Harry let out a breathy laugh. You look up to him and he points to your bag. “Need some help?”
“I….. uh…..” You’re not completely sure what to focus on or how to put your thoughts into words.
Before you can ask for help, he slowly reaches out and takes your bag between his fingers, bringing it away from its resting place on your hip. “S’ this alright?” he asks softly.
“Yeah.”
He slowly unzips the bag and you grimace at the unsettling noise. Once it’s been opened all the way, he slightly tilts it toward you and asks, “Can I look inside? Or do you wanna do it?”
You flinch away and shake your head profusely, raising your hand up as a barrier between you and the bag. “No, you do it.”
He looks down, reaches his hand into your purse and starts carefully poking through it.
Your shoulders relax as you turn your focus to his hair. It seems to be much curlier and fluffier than before. It looks… inviting, like a soft blanket that you want to curl up into. It seems to have its own gravitational pull. You lean forward, bury your nose in it and take a deep breath in. The smell of apples and some cologne you don’t recognize and the scent of his sweat swirl together in an exhilarating way.
Harry slowly lifts his head up and eyes you suspiciously over the frames of his sunglasses that have slid down the bridge of his nose. Now that you’re sitting here eye to eye with him, you notice every single detail of his face that you hadn’t been privy to before. Every eyelash, the crease between his eyebrows and the way one of them is slightly raised. The deep set dimple in his cheek due to the smirk pulling up on one side of his mouth. The thin green irises of his eyes.
The more you look into them, the bigger they get, and the more you’re able to see your own reflection in his pupils. You tilt your head and smile as they keep growing in size. Just as they're getting to a comical level, making him look more like a cartoon character, you notice a blush creep onto his cheeks.
He folds his lips into his mouth, blinks rapidly, and shakes his head before returning to his search through your purse.
Harry finally pulls out your yellow leather address book. The white daisies printed on the cover seem to dance and twirl in place when he holds the book up and opens it.
Your purse is returned to its previous position on your hip before he looks at you again. He points his thumb over his shoulder at the payphone a few feet from you. “I’m gonna go call Alice. You guys just stay right here, alright?”
When he starts to get up to his feet, you blurt out, “I have dimes you can use.”
The corners of his mouth turn up and he waves you off, “That’s alright, I’ve got some.”
You watch as he walks over to the payphone. You watch as he digs into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out a handful of coins in his palm. He inserts a dime into the coin slot and cradles the phone between his shoulder and ear. You watch his every move until the stripes on his shirt begin to ripple as if they’re made of water. This plus the flickering light above the phone becomes too much for you to handle.
You lay on your back with your hands folded across your stomach and begin to take in the stars in the sky, which are somehow less overwhelming than a simple striped t-shirt.
You’re not sure how long you stay like this. You feel like you’re so close to the stars in the night sky that you could reach out to touch one, or maybe even cradle one in your hands to feel its warmth. The sound of Jenny sitting next to you humming some tune you don’t quite recognize only adds to the peacefulness you’re feeling.
A bright light suddenly overwhelms your vision and you look over to your left to see a pair of headlights coming toward you. You hoist yourself up from the ground and bring your arm up to shield your eyes from the blinding light.
The car screeches to a halt at the curb. The first thing you see after the driver’s side door opens is a head of curly hair that can only belong to your friend Alice.
“Holy shit you guys. I’m so so so sorry.” She rushes over to where you and Jenny are sitting. Only half of the words she’s saying are even registering in your mind. “I ended up falling asleep and then there was a car wreck on the freeway and traffic was backed up for miles and-” She stops in her tracks once she’s standing in front of you and snorts out a laugh. “Oh my god you guys are so fucking high.”
Her laughter is interrupted by Harry. “Are you Alice?”
“Yeah, who are you?” she replies with a slight edge to her voice.
“Sorry. I-- I’m Harry. I... uh… I gave them the…”
“Oh you’re Harry. Well. Thanks so much for sticking around with them but I can take it from here.” She shakes hands with Harry before extending a hand to Jenny, helping her stand up and walking her to the car.
Meanwhile, you slowly make your way to your feet and walk over to Harry. He grunts when you clumsily wrap your arms around him in a hug.
“Thank you Harry. You’re a very nice person,” you mumble into the fabric of his shirt.
“You’re… You’re welcome.” The vibration of his chest when he chuckles travels all the way down to your toes. You also pick up the thrumming of his heart beating wildly against your ear. His hand lightly rubs your back.
You soon hear Alice’s voice behind you saying your name. The feeling of her lightly tugging on your t-shirt coaxes you away from Harry and into her arms.
Before you know it, you’re settled into the backseat of Alice’s car next to Jenny and Alice is shifting to drive.
As you slowly pull away from the curb, you steal a glance over your shoulder to see Harry standing on the curb. He has one hand on his hip and the other is scratching his jaw as he watches your car move away. His figure is getting smaller and smaller as you leave the venue. Just before you turn the corner, you see him step over to the payphone again.
**September 1st, 1977, Los Angeles, California**
You take a long sip of your coffee as you carefully place the needle on your record player. After a few seconds of rustling and popping, the first kickdrums of The Five Stairsteps’ “O-o-h Child” fill your living room, followed by a chorus of trumpets.
Jenny left for work early in the morning and you have a day off, so you’re relishing in the freedom of having the house to yourself.
You walk through the doorway into the kitchen where your fried egg is sizzling on the stove. With your free hand, you take a plate from the cabinet and set it on the counter before grabbing a spatula, turning the burner off, and carefully lifting the egg out of the pan onto your plate. You pluck the piece of toast from your toaster and turn to set your plate on the table along with your coffee mug. The only thing missing is the newspaper, which is most likely still sitting at the end of your driveway from the morning delivery.
You pad through the hallway to the front door, turn the lock, and swing it open. As soon as the early fall air hits you, however, you come to a halt and let out a shocked gasp.
An equally startled Harry is standing on your front doorstep with one hand behind his back and the other hovering over your doorbell. All of your systems stall for a moment, as if you’re trying to connect whatever dots you can to make this scene make sense in your brain. You can feel heat quickly spreading all over your face each second you both stand there in silence, which you both break at the same time.
“What are you--?”
“Sorry I--”
You press your lips together and wait for him to continue.
“I’m sorry. I, um,” he clears his throat before dropping his hand by his side, “I should have called ahead of time.”
“What-- uh,” you stop to rephrase your question since What are you doing here? sounds a little more blunt than you’re wanting to be. “What brings you here?”
“I just thought I would stop by on my way to work.” He pulls his hand from behind his back, revealing the yellow and white cover of your address book in his hand. “Wanted to return this to you.”
He must have picked up on your confusion as you take the book from his hand and run your thumb over the cover.
“I’m sorry. I accidentally left it on top of the payphone after the concert. Didn’t realize until you had already driven off. But your address and everything is written in the front so… thankfully it wasn’t hard to figure out how to get it back to you.” He gestures to the book before jamming his hands in his pockets.
“Oh,” you draw out as the realization dawns on you. In the process of debriefing your trip with Jenny and Alice, you thought that Harry had given your address book back to you, concluding that it must have been somewhere in your house. You figured it would turn up someplace unexpected, and technically you turned out to be right. You laugh to yourself, “I thought I lost it somewhere in my house or something. I-- Thank you.”
You spare a glance at him for long enough to catch the tight grin on his face, causing his dimples to indent on his cheeks.
As you’re taking in his loose fitting white shirt and ripped jeans, you’re quickly becoming aware of the fact that you’re only dressed in cotton shorts and your old UCLA t-shirt you had slept in. If this whole interaction had been timed better you at least could have run to your bedroom to throw on pants or a sweater before answering the door. You reflexively cross your arms in front of you.
“So you had a good time, I hope?” Harry’s question interrupts your thoughts.
“Oh, yeah. Alice just brought me and Jenny back here and we sat around listening to music and talking. Then we pretty much spent all day yesterday sleeping so.” You shrug.
“Did your bag give you any more trouble?” he squints, pausing around the word ‘bag’ and giving you a sly smirk.
You scoff and shift your weight to lean against the doorframe. “No, it did not,” you mutter defensively toward the ground.
He breathes a laugh through his nose and you urge yourself to steer the subject of conversation slightly away from the specifics of your high state the other night.
“Also, thanks so much for staying there with us. I mean, who knows what we could have gotten into.”
“Oh, it was no problem. I’ve done some pretty stupid stuff while on shrooms, even when I’m supervised so…” he trails off into a chuckle.
You smile at his confession, somehow you can’t imagine this level-headed man doing anything stupid.
He continues. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” After a brief pause he adds, “You and Jenny.”
Your eyes snap up after he corrects himself.
He looks down at your doormat, scratching his chin. His cheeks tinge a light shade of pink.
“Well thank you. And thank you for coming to return this,” you say through a deep sigh, raising the book in your hand.
“Of course.” He looks over his shoulder at his car parked on the curb before turning back to you. “Well, I better get going. Was good to see you.” He nods before turning toward the street.
“Yeah, see you around.”
“Take care!” he calls over his shoulder, throwing a peace sign in the air.
Once he’s walked away, you retreat into your hallway and close the door. Your house is now quiet since the record you were playing has reached its end. There’s nothing to mask the sound of your heart beating out of your chest. You stare at the door for a moment, replaying the conversation in your head.
“See you around?” you mock yourself. “Where are you going to see him around?” You rest your forehead against the door and let out a deep sigh that gradually turns into a groan.
Harry’s car rumbles to a start outside. You don’t want to release the tension in your shoulders until you’re certain he’s driven away.
A thump on the other side of the door makes you jolt back. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion when you look through the peephole and see Harry climbing into his car and shutting the door.
You reach down to the door knob and open the door halfway, barely poking your head out. You can’t seem to find the source of the noise until you look down and see the newspaper rolled up in a rubber band sitting on your welcome mat.
You glance back at Harry just in time for him to flash a smile, give you a wave, and take off down the street.
*************************************************
thank you so much for reading!!
if you enjoyed part 1, please remember that reblogs and/or nice messages mean the world to fic writers. <3
you can find my masterlist here and my inbox here
-> PART TWO <-
#my writing#drugs tw#shroomrry#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x reader#harry styles writing#harry styles reader insert
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top 5 adaptations of the Fairy from Pinocchio? (or maybe top 5 best AND 5 worst?)
I spent so long staring at this and wondering if I even KNEW five good Fairies, but it turns out I do, albeit mostly for asinine reasons. Anyway AHFAKKJKFHAHJKJA thank you <3
Ask me my top 5 anything
Obviously under the cut because I couldn't resist and did BOTH
The salt AKA the worst of the worst first:
1) Piccolino No Bouken
Surprised? I suppose most would have expected me to put the Disney Fairy first, and I did, too, for a while, but as I was sitting in my car pondering this ranking I realized I was SEETHING with rage about this one, so I had to rearrange things a bit. This, guys, is where my Fairy hate begins - not the book, not the Mouse's interference. This woman.
I hate her. I hate her SO MUCH, for all that I love this adaptation more than most things in the world, and that the choices made about her characterization were a huge inspiration for me. Not only does she not send Pinocchio to school, instead teaching him on her own, she is the only one to actively keep Pinocchio from his father - indeed, she makes the choice for them, saying to Geppetto's face that it would be best for the boy to be taught something before he goes back home. Who the hell are you to make this call, uh? You have known him for a day at most! You left him hanging from a fucking tree all night! I wouldn't trust you with a bloody lapdog, nevermind a child!
Also she lets Pinocchio believe she's dead UNTIL THE VERY END. She turns into a bird while he cries at her tomb. Are we fucking serious now? Leave him alone.
(Yes, this is elementary school me howling for revenge. I've been mad about this longer than reason would let me. Sue me.)
2) Disney's Pinocchio
Bane of my existence. I don't know if anyone remembers that pic of me at the Pinocchio theme park I posted a while ago, but basically in that moment they were putting up a little show to tell children a little bit of the OG story, and they asked the audience if they knew what color the Fairy's hair was - a few said blonde, and I, being on stage next to her, distinctly heard her mutter "dammit, Disney". I've been living with that mantra since then.
Nobody asked you to make that puppet sentient, ma'am. He doesn't owe you shit. Aside from that, just like Jiminy Cricket, she ruined her character in a good two thirds of future adaptation. And while we're speaking of Jiminy, WHY did she think it would be a good idea to entrust a little boy to a slime ball such as him? He's too horny to have an ounce of sense. Conscience, my ass.
Basically...begone, asshole.
3) Pinocchio and the Emperor of the Night
This film is so horrible, the Fairy had no chance to be decent at all. A cheap copy of the Disney one, with the addendum that she turns MULTIPLE toys into living beings while holding them responsible for whatever they do after. Basically Victor Frankenstein, but make it a poorly dressed woman from a direct-to-TV movie that shouldn't have existed at all.
-100/10, at least you're pretty, but by God, SHUT UP.
4) Once Upon a Time
Honest to God if she doesn't keep her filthy hands off my faves she's gonna get a slap across the face so strong her Wish Realm self ought to feel it sting. I am not exaggerating.
Seven seasons in, she hasn't done ANYTHING useful that I can remember. She's not even good at her own fucking job! Not only that, she's traumatized and guilt-tripped a good chunk of the population of Storybrooke, including first and foremost my beloved son August. The Pavlovian reaction I had every time she appeared on screen can't be described in coherent words, only in eagle screeches.
She's wrong. On principle, she's wrong. Let's move on.
5) Luigi Comencini's Le Avventure di Pinocchio
Doesn't rank higher only because she's played by Gina Lollobrigida (my beloved). She's book accurate, which means she'd be annoying as fuck as it is, but what little they added only makes her worse.
She has the gall to tell Pinocchio she'd like to see him happier. Like, apart from the fact that the ghost of his father's deceased wife isn't exactly the most reassuring person to hear it from...Said father has been swallowed by a giant fish. You told that boy he's only going to see his father if he studies hard. You keep turning him into a puppet anytime he misbehaves. What did you expect, that he would do the Macarena every time he entered your house? I am honestly too shocked to say any more. What the fuck.
.
.
.
Okay, I've been enraged enough for a single night. Let's move onto brighter shores!
1) Enzo D'Alò's Pinocchio
Enzo D'Alò knows what the fuck is UP!!! The only one with the courage to let the Fairy be a weird little girl - not only for a short time, but up until the end of the movie! That takes guts! Balls of steel!
I've said before that this movie has nothing memorable to it, and it's true, but also...Pinocchio wanted a sister so bad, and the movie gave him one. And they even explained the plot hole of the medallion with Pinocchio's face in it! That's twice as good as the fact that they cut out the most awful parts of her story, which is already delightful.
Thank you, Mr D'Alò. You have my trust until the end of days.
2) The Adventures of Buratino
Speaking of weird girls, this one is officially balls to the walls enough to gain my respect. She's bothersome to Pinocchio, but she's bothersome to everyone and everything, so I'll let it pass. Her role is exclusively to appear out of nowhere and do batshit insane stuff for no good reason at all. A star.
Plus, other than having an handwashing obsession that I've felt very keenly in the past year and a half, she also has a boyfriend - her and Pierrot are the original girlboss and malewife, I'm not accepting any criticism on the matter.
(Fun fact: when I was a young kid I once dreamt that the Piccolino No Bouken Fairy was dating a big, buff and blonde farmhand. He wooed her by gifting Pinocchio a dog. Apparently I've always been very interested in Fairies getting a love life and staying the fuck away from my specialest little boy.)
3) Pinocchio miniseries
"Serena, but you said you were disappointed in this adaptation so many times!" True. But consider: I am also very, very queer, and Violante Placido being motherly and wearing wispy dresses stirred SOMETHING in 11yo me that I can't very well ignore.
In hindsight, she and the Cricket probably had something going on behind the scenes, which is a shame. Miss Fairy, I swear, you could do better than Luciana Littizzetto in an ill-fitting green suit. She's gonna break your heart and lose your puppet charge in a crowd of little idiots. Do me instead.
4) Pinocchio Vampire Slayer
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This woman kills monsters - and she's damn good at it! Honestly, so badass, and such a good mother figure too, even in trying times. I don't want to spoil the comic much to those who haven't read it, but she and Cherry are the highlight of the first volume and I am very fond of them. A+.
5) Matteo Garrone's Pinocchio
This one's book accurate, too, but Garrone did something with her that almost burst in tears in a crowded theater. She's awful, and irritating, but she's...she's so human, too. I can't rage against a Fairy that's so impossibly human even during the smallest of scenes. It breaks me over and over again.
Look at her SMILING, for pity's sake, am I supposed to think there's some warmth in the dead lady? Fuck you, Matteo, what did you do to me? I am an honored Fairy hater. You're going to ruin my reputation if you keep this up.
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the pact (1)
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pairing: jinyoung x reader
genre: romance, smut, a lil angst
warnings: sexual content, cursing, alcohol, cliche fwb to lovers, fuckboy!jb
word count: 6.5k
summary: you desperately need to get over your decade-long crush on lim jaebeom, and your close friend jinyoung needs to get over his ex—so the two of you make an arrangement: just sex, no feelings. what could go wrong?
A/N: this is the first fic i’ve posted in yearrsssss so please be kind! also, if there are any weird formatting issues please let me know, i had a hell of a time posting this and mostly could only edit on my ipad so it’s been rough. hopefully it looks normal on both the app and desktop website but if it doesn’t, send me a message!
↳ index here
This was not how movie night was supposed to have gone.
You’d had a rough day at work, only looking forward to one thing all day—having all your friends over for your monthly movie night that inevitably always ended up as a mess. Your co-worker, Yugyeom, and his best friend Bambam were usually the culprits, turning every movie into a drinking game. You’d come to expect it after the third time you’d had to push Bam out before he puked on your carpet.
Your two bedroom apartment was barely big enough for you, your roommate, and your four closest guy friends, but you made it work every month and it was just what you’d needed tonight after the day you’d had.
It wasn’t usually difficult work managing a bookstore, but this week had been one of your lowest yet with sales, and you’d had to field multiple customer complaints as well as employee drama. It’d been enough to build tension in your shoulders and make you especially thirsty for Yugyeom’s special sodas—three parts alcohol, one part Sprite.
It didn’t help that you’d just seen your longtime crush, Jaebeom, post on his Instagram story that he was out with a mystery girl you didn’t recognize but had everything you didn’t. Stylish clothes, ridiculous curves, natural beauty, and most importantly, she had Jaebeom.
You’d been pining after Jaebeom for as long as you could remember—since you were in middle school with him and Jinyoung, at least. You’d had a decent amount of boyfriends in the ten years that had passed since then, yet you couldn’t shake your infatuation.
To make your infatuation even worse, three weeks ago, you’d been out with the guys and when you ran into Jaebeom, he was three shots deep and you ended up making out with him in the men’s bathroom. It wasn’t quite the romantic encounter you’d built up in your head, but still. He had a way of kissing you that made you feel like maybe he’d been wanting you just as badly this entire time. But then that was it—besides a couple of random text messages, you’d barely spoken to him since then.
So you’d gone a little overboard and ended up on the kitchen floor, your head resting on your roommate Sana’s lap while Transformers played in the living room and the boys argued over autobots and decepticons.
“I just—he texted me last week, I told you, right? He asked what I was doing, but it was two in the morning so I didn’t see it until I woke up...”
Sana stroked your hair and let out an exasperated sigh. “You want me to be honest with you, right?”
“Yes, please.”
“Jaebeom is a textbook fuckboy. He texted you because he was horny and his other playthings probably ignored him, so you were likely the first female’s name that he saw while scrolling through his contacts.”
It was a harsh truth, but deep down you knew she was right. Still, it wasn’t so easy to just brush it off and forget about it. You couldn’t help wondering what exactly was wrong with you, why you weren’t good enough for him. Sure, you were a little bookish, and you weren’t skilled in the art of seduction, but he had kissed you. That meant something, didn’t it?
“Besides, I don’t even get why you like him so much. He doesn’t even have a real job—“
You interrupted, “He’s a musician!”
“—I said a real job. He’s not a musician, he’s a DJ that sometimes posts half assed thirty second clips on Soundcloud with vaguely sexual titles.”
You pouted, knowing that she was right, and buried your face into her lap. “But he’s so pretty,” you whined.
Sana rubbed your back like the good best friend she was. “I know, Y/N. I know. But he’s a scumbag, and there are better guys out there. Like, millions of them. He’s not worth laying on your kitchen floor crying over.”
“Who’s she crying over?”
You lifted your head to see Jinyoung standing in the kitchen doorway with the empty bowl of popcorn. Sighing, you pulled yourself up from the floor and slumped against the counter. “Is Jaebeom dating someone?”
Jinyoung raised an eyebrow and set down the popcorn bowl, then grabbed a fresh beer out of the fridge. “How should I know?”
“I don’t know, you’ve known him forever,” you replied with a shrug. “Don’t guys like, tell each other that stuff?”
“No,” Jinyoung answered with a snort. “We say, ‘hey, what’s up, man? How’s life?’ And then we give a noncommittal response, say we should grab a drink sometime to catch up, and then we never do.”
You pursed your lips together, crossing your arms. “Well, he posted one of those mirror selfies with some girl I’ve never seen before. The caption was ‘late night with bae’.”
You were saved a snarky response from Sana when there was a sudden raise in the volume in the living room, indicating the guys were getting out of hand again. Someone was yelling about spilled soju and Bambam was making noise simply to make noise, it seemed.
“If they stained the couch, I’m going to kill them,” she muttered before huffing off, prepared to put her foot down and wrangle the boys back to a reasonable sound level. Your neighbors had already called the landlord last week when Jackson stood out on the balcony belting out Boyz II Men at passing men and women.
While Jinyoung rinsed out the popcorn bowl, you scrutinized him. He was an acceptable man, right? He had a steady job at a publishing house, he was polite, kind, and made you laugh. He always surprised you with advanced copies of your most anticipated reads and he was probably the source of half the sales at your store. And yet, there were no butterflies when you looked at him. Not like there were when you saw Jaebeom.
But he was attractive, objectively. Jackson had told you the last time you’d bothered him for advice that the best way to get over someone was to get under someone new. And sex didn’t always have to mean anything between friends...
“Why are you staring?” Jinyoung asked when he finally noticed you were practically studying him.
You shook your head quickly. “Nothing.”
After grabbing a water bottle to sober up, you headed back into the living room to finish watching the movie. Clearly this train of thought was the result of too many special sodas, considering you’d never once in your life looked at Jinyoung as more than a close friend. It had always been about Jaebeom for you.
Besides, he’d dated Yeri for five years. Two of those were long distance while she studied in the states, and they’d broken up just a couple of months ago not long after she returned. Maybe that was why you’d never seen him as an option.
Two hours later, Bambam and Yugyeom had abandoned your movie night after being invited out to a new club by some pretty girls. It was predictable at this point, and you’d rather have them getting smashed out on the streets than in your apartment.
Sana had left you, Jackson, and Jinyoung with the task of cleaning up fallen popcorn and throwing away the many empty bottles scattered throughout the apartment. She’d cleaned up last month, it was your turn this time.
You felt almost sober by the time everything was cleaned up and Jackson left to meet up with the other boys, unable to resist a night out. By the time you collapsed onto the couch and switched the TV off, the only remains of your alcohol was the heaviness in your limbs.
Jinyoung dropped onto the couch next to you, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “Tired?” he asked you, brows raised.
“A little.” You shrugged and pulled your legs onto the couch underneath of you, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Mostly just exhausted from the week. I think it’s just now hitting me.”
“Mm,” he agreed, letting his head fall back against the back of the couch. “Me too. Tonight’s the first time I got to leave the office before eight o’clock.”
You scoffed, shaking your head at him. “You work too hard.”
Jinyoung chuckled. “I like my job. I enjoy the work, most of the time. Keeps my mind occupied.”
That, you understood. You’d always been one to ignore your life’s problems by throwing yourself into work, and you knew it was one of the reasons you’d never had a successful relationship and found it hard to keep friends outside of the circle you’d always had.
Or, there could have been one other reason you hadn’t ever been able to stay with one person for too long—Jaebeom. As pathetic as it sounded, you’d always compared other guys to him, and they fell short every time.
You caught your mind wandering to him yet again and mentally slapped yourself. That was it, you had to find a way to forget about him. Once and for all.
“How did you get over Yeri?” You asked, somewhat abruptly. It caught Jinyoung off guard, you could tell. He’d been broken up with her for almost two months now, and hadn’t mentioned her in almost as long.
Jinyoung furrowed his eyebrows, chewing at his lip for a moment as if carefully choosing his words. “I don’t— I mean, maybe I’m not. Over her.”
Now it was your turn to be surprised. “You’re not? But it’s been two months, and I just kind of figured...”
He shrugged. “Some days are better than others. But every now and then, I feel like... like I’m still waiting for her to come back, and my whole life is on pause until she does.”
As far as you knew, Yeri had been the one to end things. Jinyoung was just too busy with work, he stayed late almost every night and she’d gotten tired of trying to schedule quality time with him weeks in advance. At least, that was as much as Jackson had told you.
You had no idea it would still be weighing on him, though. Jinyoung, of all people, was rarely shaken by anything. Always calm, calculated, and steady. No matter how long you’d known him, this was possibly the most he’d ever opened up to you.
“Sana thinks I need to get over my crush on Jaebeom,” you said as a slight change in subject, mostly because you had no experience in comforting Jinyoung and couldn’t begin to think of a proper response. “You know, for good.”
“You do,” Jinyoung responded with a light chuckle. “You’ve been obsessing over him since we were teenagers, and I have no idea why.”
You propped your sock covered feet on the coffee table, tipping your head back against the couch. “I don’t really know, either. I guess I just always thought... he’d settle down and want something serious, you know? He’d be done with the partying, the one night stands, the DJing, and he’d want...”
Trailing off, you chose not to finish the sentence because it was just too pathetic to say out loud. He’d want me.
Jinyoung was silent for a while before he leaned his shoulder into yours, a subtle gesture of comfort. “You deserve a lot better than him.”
When you were silent in response, Jinyoung nudged you again, more firmly this time. “Hey, you believe me, right? Don’t waste your worries on him, Y/N. There really are millions of better guys out there.”
Truthfully, you wanted to believe Jinyoung but there was still that nagging voice at the back of your head. Every relationship you’d ever had, and there weren’t many, had ended terribly. You’d been cheated on, lied to, and straight up ghosted. It was hard not to think maybe you were the problem.
You weren’t the most beautiful girl out there, you’d accepted that long ago. Not that you were hideous, but you knew there wasn’t much about your appearance that stood out to the average passerby. Looks weren’t everything, but they were still important.
“Would you have sex with me?” You blurted, realizing maybe you weren’t so sober after all. “I mean, hypothetically?”
Jinyoung’s eyes widened and he stifled a cough, looking at you like you had two heads. “Sorry?”
“I mean,” you cleared your throat and stood up in front of him. Long sweater, leggings, faded makeup and all. “You’re a guy. If you saw me at a bar, or just walking on the street. Would you want to have sex with me?”
The tips of Jinyoung’s ears instantly turned a deep shade of pink and it looked for a moment as if he was trying to keep his eyes anywhere except your body. “I—“ he shook his head, then finally made eye contact with you. “Yes.”
It was a new feeling, seeing Jinyoung flustered like this. It didn’t happen often, but you had to bite your lip to keep from grinning. It occurred to you, suddenly, that Jackson might have been onto something.
“Do you want to... now?” You asked, faking confidence. Sex between friends didn’t have to mean anything, and you both had people you needed to get over. It made sense, at the end of the day. And you trusted him, you realized—a lot.
“Stop being ridiculous,” Jinyoung replied, shaking his head once more. “Why are you asking this right now?”
You took a deep breath. “You want to get over Yeri. I want to get over Jaebeom. It makes sense, right? We’re adults, we’re friends, and it wouldn’t be anything more than physical. Whenever we need to let off some steam or get our minds off of them, we can help each other.”
He looked away again, but you could tell with the way his jaw worked that he was considering it. Still, maybe he was the wrong person to ask. Jinyoung had never had casual sex, at least not that you knew of. He was a serious relationship kind of guy. You may have been better off asking one of the other guys.
“Okay.”
When he answered, your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”
“You might have a point,” Jinyoung admitted. “Part of the reason I can’t get over Yeri is because she’s the only girl I’ve ever been with. Memories of her are everywhere. But maybe,” he sighed, running his tongue over his lips. “Maybe we could make some new ones.”
The corner of your lip quirked up and you felt the satisfaction of winning, which truly didn’t happen often with Jinyoung. He was one of the most stubborn people you’d ever known, always having a comeback or a way to turn it around in his own favor.
“So...” you started, trying to hide your fidgeting fingers in the sleeves of your sweater. You decided to just go for it, lowering yourself onto the couch with your knees on either side of Jinyoung’s hips.
It felt awkward. This was your childhood friend, and you were about to have sex with him with absolutely no feelings involved. But as you settled onto his lap and he slid his hands up your thighs, you began to relax.
“So,” Jinyoung repeated, gripping your waist under your sweater. His hands were big and warm, and you instantly felt safe in his grasp. “I’m going to kiss you now. Is that okay?”
When you nodded, Jinyoung leaned in slowly and carefully until his lips just barely brushed yours. He was gentle at first, until you tilted your head and kissed him back, your hands resting experimentally against his solid chest.
To be honest, it wasn’t bad. Jinyoung’s lips were soft and plump, and he kissed politely, waiting for permission to deepen it further.
So you gave it to him, sliding your arms around his neck and bringing your body flush against his, allowing his tongue entrance into your mouth. The two of you kissed until you were breathless, and you silently thanked the gods that Sana was a deep sleeper and there was little to no chance she’d walk in on you with your tongue down Jinyoung’s throat.
As polite as Jinyoung was, he didn’t hesitate to trace his hands up your bare sides, leaving goosebumps in his wake. It had been so long since you’d been touched like this, you’d forgotten how good it felt to be pressed up against a warm body, both of you desperately trying to get closer.
Even though he’d agreed to sleep with you, for some reason you were still surprised when you felt him harden underneath you. Part of you had been expecting him to end up repulsed or chicken out.
Something about the way he felt underneath of you had you rolling your hips into his, the obvious bulge in his pants pressing between your thighs just right. You let out a breathy moan into the kiss and Jinyoung pulled you down against him more firmly, one of his hands slipping down between your legs to rub you through your leggings.
A surprised moan slipped out and Jinyoung pulled away abruptly, his eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort. “Is that okay?”
You nodded quickly, grabbing his wrist and pressing his fingers back against your clit, sending warmth throughout your entire body. “Feels good,” you whispered, and you swore you felt Jinyoung’s cock twitch in his jeans.
“Bedroom?” Jinyoung asked, his fingers still drawing slow circles that were starting to make your brain fuzzy.
“Please,” you responded, and before you could make a move to stand up, Jinyoung was grabbing your thighs and wrapping them around his waist, lifting you from the couch like you weighed nothing. When had he gotten so strong?
He somehow got you to the bedroom smoothly, only stopping once to press you into the hallway and scatter kisses across your neck. Then he finally set you down after shutting your bedroom door behind you and you took the opportunity to lift his shirt up over his head.
You knew Jinyoung worked out regularly, but you had no idea he looked like that under his clothes. A firm chest, wide shoulders, and an actual six pack. If you’d known he was this ripped, maybe you would’ve tried to make this arrangement sooner.
“Seriously?” You asked, running your fingers down the lines of his abs. “Have you always looked like this?”
Jinyoung’s ears flushed again. “You know I like exercising. What did you expect?”
Shrugging, you settled your hands at his belt and ran your fingers along the metal of the buckle. “I don’t know. Now I’m a little scared to take your pants off, I mean, what have you got hiding there?”
He cringed, grabbing your hips and pulling you against him once more. “Oh, god. Please never say that again.”
Your giggle was cut off by Jinyoung’s lips pressing into yours again. This time the kiss was more heated, wet and punctuated by little nips to your lower lip. When he finally rid you of your sweater, you were so turned on you forgot to be insecure about him seeing your body for the first time.
Jinyoung laid you down on the bed, cradling his hand behind your head as it hit the pillows. His lips were on your collarbone in an instant and you slid your fingers through the soft strands of his hair, tugging in appreciation when he started sucking a hickey into your skin.
Tracing your sides with his fingertips once more, Jinyoung squeezed your hips and pulled back, sitting back on his heels to look down at you. His eyes raked your body from your face down to your waist, to where your legs were spread for him to lay between.
“Should we—“ Jinyoung swallowed, rubbing his thumbs into your hips. “Should we make some ground rules?”
It was fitting that he would be the one to suggest boundaries, but he had a point. Just because you trusted him and were both aware that it would be just sex, no feelings, didn’t mean it couldn’t get messy.
“Good idea,” you breathed, pushing hair out of your face. You’d never done this before, you didn’t even know where to start.
“Honesty,” Jinyoung started, his face looking quite serious despite the fact that he had a massive bulge in his jeans and he was naked from the waist up. “We tell each other what’s working, what’s not... what feels good, what doesn’t.”
Nodding, you agreed, “And, we have to tell each other if we start sleeping with someone else.”
“Or if we start to fall in love,” Jinyoung said, catching you off guard. Love? It hadn’t even crossed your mind.
He seemed to catch himself and cleared his throat, and you tried to ignore the adorable blush that was creeping onto the apples of his cheeks. “No feelings, right?”
You held your hand out. “Deal.”
Jinyoung smirked, then reached his hand out to clasp yours, shaking it just once. “Deal. Want me to eat you out now?”
You coughed in surprise. Was he always this forward with girls? If so, what was Yeri thinking walking away from him like that?
When you realized he wasn’t kidding, not even a little, as his hands played with the waistband of your leggings, you nodded once. “Okay. But I’m not—I wasn’t really expecting anyone to see me naked...”
Though you knew there was no good reason to be insecure, it was just Jinyoung, you squirmed your hips regardless when Jinyoung started to remove your leggings. “You want me to be honest?” He asked, tossing the ball of fabric behind him once you were left in just your bra and underwear.
“That’s the idea, right?”
“Right.” He scooted down the bed and laid between your legs, his shoulders nudging your knees apart to give him more room. “I don’t care. Most guys don’t. Besides, the underwear is cute.”
Blushing, you turned your face towards the pillow. You vaguely remembered mindlessly picking out a pair of snowmen underwear, simple cotton hipsters that were far from seductive. Though he said he didn’t care, you couldn’t help the knot of embarrassment in your stomach.
“Shut up.” You chewed your lip, then lifted your head to look down at him. “Guys really don’t care? About... what it looks like down there?”
Jinyoung held back another chuckle. “No. You care way more than we do, apparently. At the end of the day, if it’s the right guy, we just want to be inside of you. And if it’s really the right guy, we just want to make you feel good. Nothing else matters.”
It relieved some of your anxiety, but you still couldn’t look at his face as he pulled your underwear down your legs and tossed them to the floor. You trusted him, more than most guys you’d ever met, but he was about to get closer to you than even some of the men you’d slept with.
“Relax,” Jinyoung whispered and you conceded, laying your head back against the pillows and closing your eyes. “Tell me if you want to stop, okay?”
You nodded, tapping your hands awkwardly against the covers until you felt his fingers intertwine yours, holding them against the bed next to your hips.
He started slow. Kissing your thighs, building it up, getting closer and closer to your heat before finally, he licked one single strip from your entrance up to your clit. You whimpered involuntarily, not realizing how sensitive you’d be.
How long had it been, anyway? At least six months since the last time you’d had sex, and much longer since you’d had a man’s face between your thighs.
Then he locked his lips around your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking, until you were squeezing his hands so hard you were sure you left nail marks in his skin. You had to remind yourself Sana was just a couple of rooms over, and though she was a deep sleeper she’d most definitely wake up to you moaning at the top of your lungs.
“Faster,” you told him, still unable to open your eyes but he listened immediately, quickening the pace of his tongue against your clit. You whined breathlessly, hips lifting in an attempt to just feel more.
Jinyoung let go of one of your hands only to slide it down to meet just underneath his chin, taking the wetness that had gathered on two of his fingers before slowly inching them inside of you.
“Fuck,” you breathed out, moving your now free hand to clamp onto the back of Jinyoung’s head, fingers tangling in his hair. “Deep. Deeper, with your fingers,” you told him, words rushing together because you felt like you were going a little bit insane.
So he obeyed, pushing his fingers through your walls until he couldn’t go any further. He let you adjust, then began a slow, delicious pace inside of you. You could feel sweat pooling in your collarbone just from the heat Jinyoung was making you feel.
“Pull my hair,” Jinyoung whispered, and you didn’t have time to question it before you were doing as he said. He moaned into your clit and you arched your back, your mouth gaping open just as you remembered you needed to stay quiet.
He knew what he was doing, you could tell that much. Not only that, he enjoyed it. You could tell just from the quiet groans he’d let out when you clenched your walls around his fingers, like he was getting as much pleasure from this as you were.
“J-Jinyoung,” you stuttered, feeling the pressure start to build in your belly, your toes beginning to curl. He stared up at you, mouth still buried into your pussy. “I’m... I’m close, but I—“ you groaned. “I want you. Please.”
Within a second, Jinyoung was slipping his fingers from your folds, popping them into his mouth to get a taste and using his other hand to undo his belt. He worked fast, pushing his jeans down his thighs and kicking them off the bed with his underwear.
“Nightstand,” you breathed, taking your opportunity to check him out, head to toe. His dick was pretty. And that was truly the first time you’d ever thought that about anyone. You shifted your hips on the bed, desperate to have him fill you up.
It was new to feel this needy, and for Jinyoung of all people. The guy you’d known since you were both in your awkward phase, scrawny limbs and terrible clothing. He’d seen you throw up on your own shoes, and you’d seen him dance to Backstreet Boys at your high school talent show.
And yet, here you were, naked and wet underneath of him as if none of that mattered.
Jinyoung shoved his hand into your nightstand drawer until he found the box of condoms, grabbing one and tossing the nearly full box to the floor in his haste to get inside of you. You watched as he rolled it on, and it finally hit you that this was happening. It was almost too late for either of you to change your minds.
“This is your last chance,” you said, finally looking up from his cock to his eyes. “If you want to stop, if you think it’s a bad idea—“
Jinyoung cut you off with his lips once more, his hand grabbing onto your thigh to hook it around his waist. “I’m not changing my mind. Are you?” He whispered against your lips and you felt him hard against your stomach.
“No,” you answered. “I want it.”
He pulled away and locked eyes with you, a smirk on his lips. “Oh yeah?” His tongue ran over his lower lip and he reached down, guiding his cock up your folds until the head nudged your clit. “I can tell.”
Even though he was clearly just as desperate, you blushed and pinched his arm. “Are you going to fuck me or what?”
Jinyoung’s eyes lit up and he chuckled, lowering his hips until you felt him at your entrance. “I had no idea you had such a dirty mouth on you.” He paused for a moment, making sure you were ready, then pushed inside of your heat.
While you’d just had his fingers inside of you, you would’ve never been able to tell with the way you squeezed around him. It was uncomfortable at first, but the feeling ebbed away quickly the more of him you took inside.
“Oh,” you breathed, and Jinyoung echoed your reaction with a groan.
“Tight,” he whispered, dropping his head down to your shoulder.
As soon as he’d filled you to the hilt, you couldn’t help the whimper that slipped from your lips. It was the best kind of stretch, putting every one of your nerves on edge. He stayed like that for a long moment, letting your walls adjust to his length.
When you couldn’t take it anymore, you shifted, tightening your leg around his waist. “Move. Please.”
Jinyoung’s movements were controlled and slow, but it was as if he knew all of the sensitive places in your body already. You gasped, your hands sliding up his back until they gripped tightly to his shoulder blades.
The way he fit inside of you felt incredible, and you weren’t sure it had ever felt quite like this, even with ex-boyfriends. Everywhere your body met with his felt like it was on fire, and as Jinyoung quickened his pace, you found it harder and harder to stay quiet.
His name fell from your lips over and over, and you could tell Jinyoung was holding back—when he lifted his head from your shoulder, his brows were knitted together in concentration. You slid your nails down his back, relishing in the way he shivered in response.
“God, you’re driving me insane,” he said, his voice low and strained. “Spread your legs more. Yeah, just like that.”
“Mm, faster,” you told him, clenching around him once he was all the way inside. “You don’t have to be gentle with me.”
“Fuck—“ Jinyoung groaned, hands squeezing the sheets where he held himself above you.
If someone had told you twelve hours ago that Jinyoung would have you covering your own mouth to muffle your moans while he drilled into you, you probably would have thought they were crazy. But here you were.
Jinyoung reached down, slipping his hand under your back to unhook your bra, pulling it off in one smooth movement. He cursed under his breath once you were exposed to him completely, breasts bouncing each time he filled you up.
“God,” he whispered, hand trailing down your chest until the tip of his index finger grazed over your nipple, a featherlight touch. You shivered, arching your back towards his hand. “Tell me what you like.”
Normally, it took you months to let your boyfriends know what you liked in bed and how you liked to be touched, but honesty was your number one rule in this agreement. There was no point in holding back.
“I like it deep, just like this,” you told him. Jinyoung seemed to just know already, or maybe that was how he liked it too. He was always the intense type, it made sense if it had transferred over to the bedroom. “I like it when you tell me how it feels, what you want to do.”
Your words were finished off by a moan that you were sure Sana could have heard if she weren’t asleep, and just the thrill of being caught was enough to send a wave of heat through your body.
When Jinyoung locked eyes with you, there was a hint of something new, like you’d unlocked a part of him that you’d never seen before. He smirked.
“Next time,” Jinyoung started, thrusting deep inside of you, “you won’t have to keep quiet. I’ll take you to my place, and when I’m inside of you, you can be as loud as you want.” His hand slid down your torso, over the sensitive skin of your stomach until it rested on your hip.
Next time. Just the idea of being with him again, though you probably wouldn’t admit it, excited you. It filled your mind with a flash of scenarios and possibilities, all the different ways he could make you feel good.
“Jinyoung, I—“ you moaned, biting hard onto your lip to silence yourself. Jinyoung brought his other hand to your mouth, thumbing your lip until you were forced to stop biting it.
“Would you like that?” he asked, the pace of his thrusts quickening. “Maybe I can bend you over the back of the couch, windows open for everyone to hear you crying out. Is that what you want?”
Your eyes squeezed shut, gasping as the mental image went straight between your legs where he filled you up so perfectly.
“Answer me.” His voice was deep but stern at your ear, and you knew his question was not rhetorical.
“Yes,” you replied, digging your nails into his back. “God, yes. Make me scream your name, Jinyoung.” And he almost did, as he attached his lips to your neck and bit down, teeth scraping against your tender skin just as he slammed inside of you.
You were close again, and you knew it wouldn’t take much more to send you tumbling over the edge. His thrusts were so deep and powerful that you knew you’d be aching tomorrow, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.
“Fuck, you’re so tight. Can’t get enough,” he said, voice husky and low against your neck where you could tell he was working on marking you. He could’ve left the biggest, reddest hickey for all to see and you couldn’t have cared less right now. It didn’t even cross your mind that this was meant to be just between the two of you.
You whimpered when his hand drifted from your hip to the place where your bodies met. He placed his thumb right against your clit and pressed quick circles into your most sensitive spot, and you had to restrain yourself from moaning out.
Jinyoung must have sensed this, because he pulled away from your neck and stared down at you, slipping his opposite thumb into the wetness of your mouth. “Suck.”
If you weren’t close before, you were now. You wrapped your lips around his thumb and did as you were told, hollowing out your cheeks and sucking on Jinyoung’s digit as it rested on your tongue.
As his gaze locked on yours, you found yourself unable to look away. He commanded every bit of your attention, his eyes filled with desire and pleasure that you were responsible for. Your heart pounded in your chest, overwhelmed with need.
Although Jinyoung didn’t say a word, you could read it in his eyes—cum for me. He drew tight circles against your clit, his fast pace relentless inside of you. His stamina was something else, you thought to yourself. He didn’t even look mildly tired out.
You grabbed at Jinyoung’s wrist with your hands, needing something to grip onto but you also desperately needed to keep your mouth occupied so that you didn’t wake your roommate and the neighbors with your cries.
Then something snapped. The tension got to be too much and your orgasm crashed over you like a tsunami, causing your back to arch and your thighs to shake, caging Jinyoung’s waist in and slowing his movements.
He still fucked you through your high and kept his fingers moving until he was sure you had come down. Once he was, he brought a hand up to push your hair away from your face, pressing his lips into your forehead.
“Good girl,” he whispered and you sighed, your limbs finally relaxing in exhaustion. You would’ve never guessed that Jinyoung would be the one to give you what was possibly the best orgasm you’d had in years. Polite, calm, and serious Jinyoung. The same Jinyoung that could barely look you in the eye when you wore a bathing suit in front of him.
His climax wasn’t far away, you knew that much. And you were thankful too, because you were already starting to feel sore and overstimulated, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take.
You wrapped your arms around him, your fingertips gripping deep into his skin, undoubtedly leaving scratch marks down his back. It was only fair, you figured. You slipped one hand into his hair and tugged, harder than before.
“Shit,” Jinyoung moaned, his thrusts becoming less controlled and more shallow. You pulled his hair again, your nails scraping against his scalp, and that was it for him.
He pushed inside one last time, his cock so deep inside of you that you couldn’t help clenching your walls around him as he came. He was mostly silent save for one throaty groan into your neck, a sound you were sure you wouldn’t soon forget.
You felt him relax a long moment later and he slowly pulled back away from you, stroking the side of your face with his fingertips. “That was...”
All you could do was nod, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. “Yeah...” Your heart was still racing from your orgasm, but the haze of your desire was starting to fall away, reminding you of reality.
You’d just had sex with Jinyoung. One of your best friends. What would happen now? Would it be awkward from now on, now that you’d seen each other naked? You’d literally had him inside of you. Something told you it’d be difficult to come back from that.
Jinyoung finally pulled out of you a moment later to remove the condom and put it in the trash, and you were eternally grateful that you had the master bedroom with the attached bathroom. For one, you could watch his backside as he went to get a washcloth, and you also didn’t have to leave your bedroom until both of you were fully cleaned up.
You shifted on the bed while you waited for Jinyoung to return, trying to ease your worries. The two of you had been friends so long, you figured it would take more than one hook-up to ruin it all.
Once Jinyoung came back with a wet cloth and climbed onto the bed, you told yourself you’d worry about it tomorrow.
You both got cleaned up and while Jinyoung got dressed, you grabbed your robe and wrapped it around yourself so that you could walk him to the door. Both of your footsteps were as silent as possible, careful not to wake your roommate.
“Jinyoung,” you said, as he slipped his shoes back on.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks,” you whispered, chewing nervously at your lip. You didn’t quite know what you were thanking him for, but you felt the need to say it anyway. Some part of you felt so grateful to him that you couldn’t let him leave without making him aware.
Jinyoung’s lips quirked just a bit. “You too,” he tucked your disheveled hair behind your ear. “I’ll talk to you later, alright?”
You nodded. “Drive safe.”
The moment Jinyoung was out of the apartment, your body leaned limply against the door as you stared up at the ceiling. No, this was not how movie night was supposed to have gone.
#okay soooooo here we go please be nice!!!#got7#got7 fanfic#jinyoung#park jinyoung#got7 fic#got7 smut#jinyoung fic#jinyoung smut#got7 scenario#got7 reaction#park jinyoung smut#jinyoung fanfic#kpop#kpop imagine#got7 imagine#jinyoung imagine#writing
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Home Again Chapter 2
warnings: Same as the first chapter (reccommend reading chapter one first)
~10 Years Ago~
When Jean awoke, it was dark, wet, cold. The smell reminded him of that time he left a cheesesteak sub in his mother's fridge, stuffed all the way in the back and forgot about it, it smelled of rot, decay and death. The air was thick and he choked on it. When he tried to move, he couldn't, his hands behind his back and stuck to whatever wall was in the room, the feeling of mold and miss sticking to his hands had his stomach churning with disgust.
"Ah, looks like the runt is awake." A deep, raspy voice sounded, echoing off the walls and sounding much louder than what it probably was. Jean turned to the sound to see a doorway lit by a candle. Above the flame was a long, thin, stubble coated chin, a mouth of thin lips curled into a wicked smile showing off dark yellow and brown stained, crooked teeth, a short pug like nose and then eyes that seemed to burn a bright blue in the low light. The man was tall, lanky, but underneath the tight green shirt showed off toned muscle. "How you feeling princess?"
Jean just looked at the man, "What's going on? Where am I?" He asked just above a whisper.
"Ah, straight to the point I see, well, ya see princess-"
"Don't call me that." Jean hissed as a boney, calloused hand smacked him across the face.
"Don't back sass me boy!" The man's deep voice bellowed, causing the volume in the small space to vibrate the moist walls. "I will call you whatever the fuck I feel like!" The man pulled Jean up and pushed him against the wall, bending down a significant amount to get right into his face. Jean's nose scrunched as the smell of tobacco and whiskey invaded his nostrils. "You belong to the Nevidljiv now, you have no right to speak to anyone without permission. You will learn place, princess, and I will making fucking sure of it." The man sneered in his face. Jean's eyes widened and his body started to shake. What the fuck was happening? What is the Nevidlijiv? What's going to happen to me? All these questions ripped through Jean's mind as he was dropped to the floor, landing with a painful thud against the hard floor beneath him. "The quicker you learn, the less painful it'll be for you. So I suggest you do what your told the first time." The man looked at the young teen on the floor and smiled wickedly, "We start lessons in an hour." With that, the man and the source of light was gone. Jean was left alone in the cold, damp, dark space with just his thoughts.
~1 Hour Later~
Jean was suddenly dragged out from wherever he was, the sloshing of something thick and liquidy seeping into his work out sketchers. Jean let himself be taken, the words of the disgusting man from earlier still ringing in his ears, 'The quicker you learn, the less painful it'll be for you.' Jean was then led up a set of stairs, the air becoming less thick smelled more like tobacco and cinnamon scented candles. A door was swing open and Jean had to close his eyes before the blinding light that smacked in his face. "This the new kid?" Another man asked and Jean opened his eyes, only to stare into a pair of eyes, one white like cream and another eye that was like an olive green, staring back at him filled with an emotion that screamed hatred.
"Yes, sir. This one was found walking in the park only a few hours ago. Lappell found him." The man dragging him spoke, the man from earlier.
"Well, Lappell did a good job this time. Finally, a bitch that should make a decent penny if he is trained correctly. Thank you Marcus, you may leave the boy and do whatever." The man, Marcus, pushed Jean into the big, bright room and closed the door behind him. Jean stared at his surroundings, the white walls and high ceiling seemed to stretch on for forever, the only things that he could see that weren't white were the dark brown, leather couches and a baby blue door on the opposite side of the room. "Get a shower kid, then come back out. Do not make me wait longer then five minutes." The short, chubby man walked towards one of the couches and turned to look at Jean, who was standing frozen in place. "Don't make repeat myself boy!" The man yelled and Jean turned to the blue door, which he assumed was the bathroom and made a mad dash towards it, opening it and stumbling pass the threshold.
He was right, this was the bathroom, but the site of it made him want to vomit, it was dirty, spelled of shit, vomit and copper. Yellow stains covered the walls that he only assumed used to be a pristine white at one point. He quickly undressed and turned the shower on, he stepped in and let the burst of cold water drench him. He scrubbed off the dirt and sweat and everything else that seemed to cover his body in the amount of time from the morning he woke up to now. What day was it? The man, Marcus said a few hours, but was it longer?
Jean got out of the shower only to find that his clothes were missing and he had no towel. Panic set itself within his body and he bagan to shake. Suddenly the door was ripped open, almost off it's hinges, and the shirt chubby man stood before him. Jean made aove to cover himself, but the man grabbed him arm and drug him towards the center of the two couches that now seated more men, all in dark business suits and perfectly styled hair, puffing cigars. "Men! Meet the newbie." The stubby man spoke…. Happily?
"My, my, my. This one is a beauty! You really out done yourself this time Reggie." A pale man with peircing hazel eyes and cherry red hair spoke, lips curling into a smirk as he looked over Jean's naked form. Jean moved to cover himself again, but the red head snatched his hands. "Don't you dare cover yourself, boy. We quite like the view." Jean stared to shake again, he was not liking where the conversation suggested, he just wanted to bolt through the door Marcus brought him through, but he had no light, no clothes, no shoes, he didn't know where the hell he was or how he even got here. He was stuck and he was alone.
"Spin around for us." Reggie spoke from his seat on the couch next to the red head. When Jean didn't move, a hand hit his face, the force giving Jean whiplash. "Spin around!" Jean nodded shakily, the faint taste of blood hitting his tounge as he slowly turned in a circle, hands balled at his sides as he concentrated on not covering up his dignity. "Good boy." Reggie purred like he was talking to a dog who just learned how to obey a simple command. "Who would like to break in the new toy first?"
~Present Day~
"Where the hell did you find him?!" Marco cried as he rushed to a sleeping Jean, holding a cold, pale, thin hand in his own warm, freckled, tan ones as a tear slowly slipped down a cheek.
"We went looking for a new maid, as you know since… Mrs. Kirstein passed, we haven't been able to find one quite as good as her. So we scouted for one at an auction." The young men were silent, all knowing how much everyone on this side of the state hated under ground auctions that sold off people for there own benefit. But Marco, knowing his father was desperate for a friend like Mrs. Kirstein, understood why he would've went so low. "We made it for the last fifteen minutes or so for the pleasure portion of the auction. None of us bothered to look and see who was being sold off, we didn't have the hearts, until the last person came out and the bids were flying out left and right, huge numbers, more then any other I've heard for being sold. I got curious and turned to see the one face I never thought I'd see again. Jean."
Marco looked at the sleeping man and gently brushed some hair out of his face, his eyes roaming the expansive canvas of his body, bruises varying in color from blue, purple, yellow and green, all in various states of healing. The scars and freshly stitched wounds done by Dr. Yeager himself. His once almost smooth perfect body had been beaten on, dirtied, and touched by unknown men and possible women, he was put into pain and suffering for probably ten years. A while decade Marco wondered what had happened to Jean, and now he wasn't liking the reality of it. "Who had him?" He whispered as his fingers traced old wounds on jeans right arm.
"He was being sold throught a human trafficking organization known as The Nevidlijiv, it's Creation for Invisible. Meaning this organization it's soon secret, no one knows about it unless you know someone, someone powerful. It started back in the late 1800s by a group of men who wanted nothing more then to steal and use others weaker then themselves to.. keep them company, if you get my drift." Dr. Yeager informed and the rest of the young adults listen intently. "After a few years of kidnapping young men and women, they decided they wanted to make a pretty penny, so they started selling them. Always moving to different locations or even different countries to keep themselves off the grid. It's cash only, if it's traceable, it's not allowed. No phones or may other electronics are allowed in the places the auctions are held. Hence, invisible." Dr. Yeager looked at Jean's unconscious body and sighed, "And I'm afraid Jean here, was the top prize for those disgusting pigs. Sure, being the best means too care, but that doesn't exclude from anything else, he was probably treated worse because of being the top one to want."
Marco could feel the tears cascading down his freckles cheeks, as held onto Jean's hand tighter. "Fuck! If I would've known something like this could've happened, I would've-" Eren suddenly spoke up, his voice cracking as he willed himself not to break down. Sure, he was an asshole to Jean, a major dick bucket, but he realized after Jean had vanished it was because he himself, was trying to hide the fact that he also liked the same sex. When Jean never showed up for school again, he felt this odd pang of hurt inside his chest and realized then, he really liked Jean.
"Eren, it's okay, none of us could've guessed this would've happened." Armin then spoke, putting a comforting hand on his boyfriend's shoulder and brought him in for a hug.
"Do you know what else happened to him?" Marco asked, as he looked towards his father with tear filled eyes.
"I was given this. A list of prior "owners" and all the medical records he had in the last ten years." He held out a decently sized folder, filled with papers. Marco took the black folder and began looking through it, heavy in his hands, he wanted to be sick. Every single medical record was signed with a different name for major things like surgery or anything that required severe medical attention. Others where I put signed by people who had bought Jean at auctions and some just had awful names written down: Bitch, Whore, Slut… just to make a few. As Marco got further the papers the words began to blur into a mess of scribbles. He closed the folder and tossed to across the room, laying his head on the couch next to Jean, Marco let out a loud sob, breaking everyone hearts as they saw the heir to the Bott mafia and business weep his heart out for the boy he lost and then found again.
Jean suddenly let out an ear piercing scream, shaking and clawing at his own skin. Marco fell away as he wanted the man he loved for years convulse like mad man and scream like he was in pain. Dr. Yeager and Mr. Ackerman held him down, "Get the sedative!" Dr. Yeager yelled at no one in particular. Mikasa grabbed the syringe from her adoptive father's bag and handed it to him. After Jean was injected, Jean fell limp against the couch once more.
#Jean Krischtein#marco bott#attack on titan#levi attack on titan#jean x marco#abuse#eventual smut#chapter 2#marcos dad#erens dad#armin#reiner#bert#mikasa
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World Book Challenge: China
Officially, the People's Republic of China (PRC). It is the world's most populous country, with a population of around 1.4 billion. It covers approximately 9.6 million square kilometers, and is officially divided into 23 provinces, five autonomous regions, four direct-controlled municipalities (Beijing, Tianjin, Shanghai, and Chongqing), and the special administrative regions of Hong Kong and Macau.
The areas in dark green are under direct Chinese control; the areas in light green (Tibet and Taiwan) are contested. For the purposes of this challenge, I’m treating China, Tibet and Taiwan as three separate countries. Because I can.
Number of Chinese people in New Zealand: As of the 2013 Census, there were 163,104 people of “Chinese (not further defined)” ethnicity in New Zealand - 10,008 of those were in Wellington City.
Have I been there? Yes! I visited Shanghai with my Dad in December 2011. I bought a really nice coat, had tea that tasted like warm Fanta (it was oddly addictive), and got hugged by Dave Grohl. So, the usual Chinese experiences, really.
I also had Peking Duck for the first time in my life, and holy hell I didn’t know what I was missing. I’ve tried to make up for it by eating copious amounts of it since.
The books
For “China” on my reading challenge, I read three fantasy novels - Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu, and the final two books of the Poppy War trilogy (The Dragon Republic and The Burning God) by R. F. Kuang, a Chinese-American author.
Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (魔道祖师 / Mó Dào Zǔ Shī)
(Book 30 of 2021)
Given the fact that I have an entire subsection of my blog about how much I love the live-action TV show based on this book, it probably shouldn’t be a surprise that I had Mó Dào Zǔ Shī at the top of my list of Chinese books to read.
Mó Dào Zǔ Shī tells the story of Wei Wuxian, a loathed cultivator of dark and demonic arts who resurrects 16 years after his tragic death. His return to the world brings him to reunite with the people in his first life, including his soulmate, the honored Lan Wangji (who mourned him for 16 years, during which he branded himself with the same mark as Wei Wuxian and kept his memory alive and I’m okay, I promise). Wei Wuxian then begins to remember his time before his demise 16 years ago, from his beginnings as a young cultivator to his descent to dark magic. Together, they solve a mystery linked to a dark tragedy from Wei Wuxian’s first life, then live happily ever after.
This novel was originally published on the Chinese web novel site JJWXC from October 31, 2015 - March 1, 2016, with additional side stories that continue to be released sporadically. The revised version of the main story was later published online until September 7, 2016. A paperback version was released on December 12, 2016, with a total of four volumes in traditional Chinese. The first of three planned volumes in simplified Chinese, titled Wuji, was released in 2018, but release of the following installments has stalled after the locking of the novel on JJWXC since January 2019.
Mó Dào Zǔ Shī isn’t officially available in English, and given that it depicts an explicit danmei relationship between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, I don’t think we’ll ever see an official version. Though there are official translations into Korean, Thai, Vietnamese, Russian, Japanese, and Burmese, and the tour for the TV traveled to Toronto, Los Angeles and New York, so maybe one day there will be an official translation.
For now though, you can read the entire novel for free at Exiled Rebels Scanlations, where it has been translated in full by a then-highschooler called “K-san”. It’s hard to actually judge the merits of the writing of the original novel, given I was reading an unofficial translation, but that was actually half of the sweetness of it. It was kinda rough - K-san tweaked the terms they used as they gained more confidence with the translation, and I enjoyed reading the translator and editor notes that accompanied most chapters - especially notes such as “we’re translating as fast as we can, stop asking for faster updates!”. It felt really organic and friendly, and the story is good (though much gorier than the TV show and good god boys, learn what lube is, it’ll make your lives better I promise).
I read the book more as a companion to the TV show though, rather than a novel on it’s own merits, so I’m not sure I can judge it as a novel on it’s own merits. Though the book did teach me one very important piece of information: Lan Wangji canonically smells of sandalwood.
Would I read it again? If an official English translation comes out, I’d probably read that. I’m more likely to watch the TV show again, or dive into one of the sesquillion Untamed fanfics on AO3 ( Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn was the most popular ship on AO3 in 2020, with 12,878 new works about these characters being published that year).
The Dragon Republic and The Burning God
(Books 34 and 35 of 2021)
I read The Poppy War and The Dragon Republic back in September 2019 (when I wasn’t counting how many books I was reading, but I did have a record of them), and I decided to re-read The Dragon Republic because I couldn’t exactly remember where the story was up to.
And it’s a good thing I did, as something I thought happened at the end of The Dragon Republic actually happened at the end of The Poppy War, so oops?
The Poppy War trilogy is a grimdark fantasy novel set in fantasy China, with a Chinese protagonist and written by a Chinese-American author. It’s spectacular. The trilogy draws its plot and politics from mid-20th-century China, though it’s atmosphere is more inspired by the Song dynasty. The conflict in the first book is based on the Second Sino-Japanese War (though this time, it’s the Chinese empire against the Japanese empire), in the second on the start of the Chinese civil war (Chinese empire against nascent Republican movement), and in the third on the end of Chinese civil war (Republicans versus not-Republicans).
It’s a massive trilogy. It’s incredibly complex, with a huge scale and massive numbers of characters, though the fact it’s all seen through Rin’s eyes (with the occasional first and last chapter from the point of view of other characters) helps.
The story follows that of Fang Runin, better known as Rin, a poor war orphan in southern Nikara who trains in secret to test into the elite Sinegard Academy. Throughout the trilogy she deals with racism, sexism, elitism...most of the isms, really. Author R.F. Kuang said that Rin's life is meant to parallel the trajectory of Mao Zedong, and I had fun trying to match events in Chinese history to the events in the book (the easiest ones to spot are the Rape of Nanjing, the nuclear bombing of Japan and the Long March).
I don’t remember Mao Zedong having the power to call on a fire god, however. It’s probably a good thing that’s not something that happened in real life China, as Mao’s policies killed enough people without him literally being able to spit fire.
I described the first book as “If Kvothe from The Name of the Wind was female, Chinese, and allowed to say fuck.” Those two books felt really similar to me - they’re very much your “outsider is accepted to elite academy, winds up pissing off most of their classmates and chooses an obscure major to specialise in before being thrown into a conflict they are key to winning.” But honestly, I preferred the Poppy War trilogy, even if the final book did get super dark.
Rin is a really refreshing character, and the world seen through her eyes is a very different place to one I’m used to reading about. Kuang said that she "chose to write a fantasy reinterpretation of China's twentieth century, because that was the kind of story I wasn't finding on bookshelves", and I’m so glad she did. The world needs more books like this. I’m as pasty and as white as they come, and I loved reading a book where the heroine was authentically Chinese. This isn’t a pakeha author trying to fit themselves into someone else’s shoes - this is someone with a deep understanding of Chinese military history and collective trauma using that understanding and pain to build a new fantasy world.
I loved it, and if you can stomach war scenes, I recommend this trilogy.
Will I read the Poppy War trilogy again? I might do. It’s a bit darker and more desperate than I usually read - particularly The Burning God - but I did enjoy them. So that’s a firm “never say never”.
Bonus book!
These Violent Delights
I read NZ-Chinese author Chloe Gong’s These Violent Delights earlier this year (book number 20 of 2021), before I set myself this challenge, so it doesn’t technically count as an entry for “China” in my book challenge. But it is amazing, and I love it, so I wanted to give it a quick shout out here (because if we’re talking fantasy reimaginings of Chinese 20th century history by Chinese diaspora authors...).
These Violent Delights relocates the story of Romeo and Juliet to 1920s Shanghai, casting the two leads as the heirs to rival gangs. It’s brilliant, it’s beautiful, there were sentences that made me stop and gasp for the sheer delight of having read them, and there’s a monster made of bugs driving the citizens of Shanghai insane. The way Gong has woven the characters from the play into their 1920s counterparts is delightful (I say this as someone who’s never actually read the play, though I think I saw the Leonardo DiCaprio movie because it was difficult to be a tween in the late 90s and not be exposed to his films).
15/10, would definitely read it again, it’s been on the New York Times bestseller list for weeks for a very, very good reason. Stop reading this blog and go get a copy. Now.
The feast
I admit, using China as my first country may have been a bit of a cop out, given my familiarity with Chinese food - though, living in a Western country, I’ve probably eaten more Westernised Chinese food than authentic Chinese food.
Which is why I was chuffed to learn that spring rolls are, actually, authentic Chinese food. I always thought they were a Westernisation, like sweet and sour pork or fortune cookies.
For my Chinese feast, I turned to The Woks of Life, a delightful Chinese cooking blog that I can’t open without being inspired to cook like 9 million things.
When I started this project, I originally was only going to cook one dish from each country. I figured I’d go easy on myself for China, and make 花生酥 (hua sheng su), a traditional sesame peanut brittle.
It’s something I’ve made before - I make little bags of it for my colleagues each lunar new year.
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I don’t follow the Woks of Life recipe exactly - for example, I’ve never once roasted and shelled my own peanuts. I tend to use a mix of blanched and pre-roasted peanuts in my 花生酥, and I think it comes out okay. Next time I’m going to increase the amount of sugar I use - I find that 270g of rock sugar is not quite enough to cover the peanuts totally. Which is a pain. Next time I think I’ll use 300g, and turn the heating on in my kitchen so it’s warmer, to stop the brittle from hardening before I can properly get it into the tray to cool.
But then I changed my mind, and decided to throw a full on feast.
For the feast I threw, I made two more dishes from the Woks of Life - Easy Peking Duck with Mandarin Pancakes, and 年糕 (nian gao), or stir-fried rice cakes (though I did them with chicken, not pork, as that’s what I had in my freezer). I also cooked up some spring rolls, as I had them leftover in my freezer from my housewarming (for which I over catered, because I cannot do anything but over cater any event I throw). I should have marinated the duck longer. That one was on me.
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I also made some 核桃酥 (he tao su), walnut cookies, which were delicious and I definitely want to make again. I think I’ll add some hazelnuts in as well for additional crunch, and make them slightly smaller - they were 12 very big cookies.
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But delicious cookies.
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Kisu was most distressed that we did not feed her anything from this feast.
The Playlist
I ended up finding this “Chinese Indie & Rock” playlist on Spotify, which I really enjoyed. I could understand none of the songs, but I enjoyed the heck out of a lot of them. I’ll probably keep listening to this playlist - they were definitely my sort of jams.
#China#PRC#Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation#mo dao zu shi#mo xiang tong xiu#the poppy war#the dragon republic#the burning god#r. f. kuang#book review#world book challenge#rf kuang#these violent delights#chloe gong#the woks of life#hua sheng su#sesame peanut brittle#he tao su#chinese walnut cookies#walnut cookies#nain gao#stir fried rice cakes#peking duck
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ER Appreciation Week Day 5: Favorite Mini-Arc
Kerry was adopted.
This is different from “Kerry searching for her birth mother.” I would have been more of a fan of that if 1) they’d fleshed out Kerry’s backstory more (*cough, cough* told us about her parents in a meaningful way) and 2) finding her birth mother did not cause the problems it did. I’m talking about the thing with Chen at the beginning of s8 as well as how the arc ended.
I am a firm believer that this arc had a lot of untapped potential. From a character perspective, it really explained a good deal of her personality and revealed a little bit more about her thought process and narrative lens. However, there was not enough substantive backstory added to really reach its full potential. Not to mention it took six seasons to finally come to fruition. Between when it was revealed in s5 to when she found her birth mother in s11, the audience pretty much forgot about it. (I know I did.)
And while I focus discussion of Kerry’s parents in my AUs where Kerry and Susan end up together, I think it really would have bolstered canon too. Even if we never met the characters of her parents, it could add a level of depth to Kerry as a character to know more about who she is and where she came from.
It’s likely no surprise given that I am a fan of this, as it was a big factor in my two complete re-writes of ER, but I never miss an opportunity to talk about missed opportunities.
***
Susan was just about to take a seat on the couch opposite where Mildred sat reading when she realized they weren’t alone.
Kerry lay curled on the couch with her head on Mildred’s lap, fast asleep. Mildred absently stroked her daughter’s hair with one hand while she held her book open with the other.
“Oh, sorry,” Susan whispered as she took a step back. “I didn’t realize-”
“Oh, it’s alright,” Mildred said at a volume far closer to a normal speaking level. “You won’t wake her up.”
Susan still looked pensive, but Mildred just waved her on.
“It’s… I’ve gotta say, it’s kind of… weird. To see her like that,” Susan remarked quietly as she sat down. “I think I speak for all of us at work when I say she does not strike us as a very cuddly person.”
“Ah. Well, that’s at work. We’re at home,” Mildred pointed out. Then, she gave a shrug of acknowledgement. “Though, I’ll admit that I thought she grew out of it a long time ago. But when I moved in here, she started doing it again. Particularly on nights where a certain someone is over at her dad’s house.”
Susan smiled slightly though she was still a bit thrown by seeing Kerry Weaver taking a nap on the couch cuddled next to her mother (let alone the implications that she sought this out on nights where her own daughter was not around to cuddle with her).
Mildred was about to turn back to her book when she noticed the look on Susan’s face. Her brow rose in question.
“Yes, dear?” she asked at Susan’s look of consternation.
Susan opened her mouth to reply and then closed it. She paused a moment, gathering her thoughts, before trying again.
“I wanted to ask you something.”
Mildred tucked a scrap piece of paper into her book to mark her place before setting it on the table next to her. She then looked back at Susan expectantly.
“When did you… tell her?” Susan asked slowly. “I mean, I know you said it was never a secret, but you would have had to tell her at some point. How old was she? And… And why didn’t you keep it a secret? Or, I guess, try to keep it a secret.”
Mildred heaved a sigh.
“Well, for one thing, I was forty-six years old when she was born. And while I have heard, let’s say, horror stories of that kind of thing happening to a woman at that age, I knew it would have been harder to explain that once she was old enough to understand where babies came from.
“And, of course, it’s not just you that has to keep the secret. We had friends and family - our entire church even - praying for us. If we’d kept it a secret, they’d have had to keep it a secret, too.
“But, honestly, what it came down to was that we wanted her to know how much we wanted her. That… That, so what, if we weren’t her biological parents? We waited for her and prayed for her and loved her no matter what. And if we kept it a secret that she’d been adopted, we’d have missed out on the opportunity to tell her all that and have that meaning behind it.”
Susan nodded.
“How old was she when you first told her? When did she first understand?”
Mildred chuckled.
“Well, the first time I told her and the first time she understood were different,” she said with a loving glance down at Kerry. “I think the first time I told her, she was… We were living in Kenya at that time, which was ‘65-’67, so...oh, she had to have been about four or five. Just about Annie’s age, really.
“I got distracted with some work and she’d wandered off to play. And when I finally went looking for her to bring her home for dinner, I found her with a few other kids, all watching something from the path. And when I got closer, I realized that they were all watching a group of women helping another woman… give birth.”
Mildred couldn’t help but laugh as Susan’s eyebrows rose.
“Neither of us brought anything up until I was putting her to bed that night. And she asked, ‘Momma, did you do that with me?’ And I told her very calmly that no, I didn’t and explained that Momma and Daddy couldn’t have babies of their own.
“I told her we prayed every day for God to give us a baby, and at the same time, there was a family somewhere that was going to have a baby but couldn’t take care of it. They were praying for a family that could raise the baby and give it all that it deserved. And God heard both prayers as He does, and made it so that baby could come and live with us.
“She took a moment to think about that and then just nodded once and said ‘Good.’ Very confidently. You know the way she does that? Well, she did that then, too. And I remember being a bit relieved. And I said, ‘I’m glad you think it’s good. Daddy and I think it’s very good, too.’
“And then, she said - and I’ll never forget it - she said, ‘Yeah. It’s good you didn’t do that, because that was yucky.’”
Mildred and Susan both chuckled at the idea (Mildred of five-year-old Kerry, Susan of five-year-old Annie) informing them in no uncertain terms that adoption was clearly the preferable option as it saved them from the yuckiness of childbirth.
As their laughter died down, Mildred resumed her stroking of Kerry’s hair. Susan watched her for a moment, thinking of the way Mildred looked down at her daughter with such love and pride even knowing that they did not share the blood and DNA that usually contributed to such relationships.
“Can I ask you one other question?” she said after a moment.
“Of course, dear. You can ask me anything,” Mildred replied simply.
“Have you ever…” Susan took a deep breath, finding the question harder to ask than she thought. “Have you ever felt like she wasn’t yours?”
Mildred looked at her for a moment and then back down to Kerry.
She shook her head.
“No. Not even once,” she answered quietly as she stroked Kerry’s cheek with a gentle finger. “And that could be because we’ve had her since she was about a week old, so we’re the only parents she’s ever known. But I don’t even think it’s that. Because I’ve felt that since the very first time I held her. I just knew that this was my baby girl and there was nothing God or anybody could do to take that away from me.”
Mildred sighed deeply and then glanced up at Susan. She raised an eyebrow.
“Are you concerned you won’t feel that with Suzie?”
She could tell the answer by Susan’s hesitation alone, but still waited for the young woman to answer.
“A little bit,” Susan admitted. “It’s just… I mean, I was there when she was born, but she’s always been my sister’s daughter. And I know it’s too early to think that… that Chloe really won’t come back and I can go through with the adoption… I just worry that trying to… that trying to not get my hopes up will keep me from feeling that with her. If I am actually able to go through with it, that is.”
Mildred nodded knowingly.
“I don’t think you will need to worry about that, dear. The connection comes from pouring love into a child, which is what you are doing now and have likely been doing since she was born,” she assured Susan in as gentle a voice as she’d use with her own daughter or granddaughter. “One thing I learned early on was that people always tell you that you will love your children, but what they don’t tell you is how much you will fall in love with them.
“Children are like storybooks, but one where you get to help them fill in the blank pages. You help hold the pen or the paintbrush, getting the chance to help create the story just as much as you get to watch it unfold.”
Susan smiled slightly as she took in Mildred’s words.
From the baby monitor on the table next to Mildred came the sound of a squeak and then a cry. Immediately, Susan rose from the couch and turned for the hallway. But as soon as she did so, she paused and looked back at Mildred.
“I think I know what you mean.”
Mildred smiled and winked before Susan started on to fetch Suzie from her nap.
The older woman watched her go for a moment before heaving another sigh and picking up her book. As she did so, Kerry shifted in her sleep.
Mildred looked down at her as Kerry opened her eyes slightly, still half-asleep.
“Momma?” she mumbled, lifting her head just a bit.
“Yes, dear?” Mildred asked softly as she stroked Kerry’s hair.
But Kerry just laid her head back down and closed her eyes again. She shifted again, adjusting her head on Mildred’s lap.
“Momma,” she said, exhaling the word like a comfortable sigh.
Mildred smiled softly.
“Yes, dear.”
#kerry deserved as much background and family as any of the rest of them did#also she deserved more cuddling#eraw20#nbc er#kerry weaver#mildred weaver#matriarchs au
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Hey it’s miss geek here I’ve finished the story I will need to post it in sections so I will label them part 1 by MG part 2 by MG etc
Thank u so much! It was really sweet. Reading Jason getting some love is always the best. If you want me to erase this, I will, but, I’ll post it whole here.
AU where Kori is the best baby sitter in the entire universe… or is she?
by Miss Geek.
“What the hell is this Harper”
“Well I’m pretty sure it’s called playing Jaybird”
“No you moron I mean why is Kori here” Jason growled in Roy’s ear away from the giggles and laughter.
Roy gives him his signature shit-eating grin and replies “I would have thought Bruce would’ve given that talk Jay, Ah well seems I have to do it you see young grasshopper when two people love each-“
“Shut up Harper, I meant why is Kori in your house” Jason was seething, to say the least.
“Ok jaybird listen Lian wanted Kori to babysit her. Jade and I couldn’t say no to her she gave me the eyes ” Roy said, looking at his girlfriend and daughter chatting animatedly with Kori.
Jason sighed, he knew those eyes pretty well. Lian Harper was one of those very few that could get through the lone wolf that was Jason Peter Todd. The five-year-old knew she had him wrapped around her small pinky finger and Jason, being her godfather, only added to the fact he could not say no to her.
“Ok, whatever she’s here to babysit that means I don’t have to be here. I’ll see you-“
“Uhhh well yeah you see about that-“ Roy said sheepishly.
Jason turned his steely blue-eyed gaze at his best friend (if he’s being honest his only friend) and said, “what did you do Harper."
“Well if we are being accurate I didn’t do anything it was your goddaughter that requested to you both being here,” Roy said while he glanced at his girlfriend getting ready to leave for their date and giving Kori any last minutes things she would need to take care of Lian for the night.
“So, Kori and I are babysitting Lian,” Jason looked at Roy in absolute skepticism.
“No...Kori is in charge and technically babysitting Lian you are just here for Lian's entertainment. She said, and I quote, ‘unca jay is funny’“ Roy said smirking the whole time.
“Why can’t I be in charge I can take care of her just fine on my own. I survived the streets on my own until I was 12 so I can handle babysitting her myself for a few hours” Jason protested.
Roy looked to his best friend/brother/partner in crime and replied “I love you like a brother Jaybird and I know without a doubt you will protect Lian with your life but..you can be a walking hazard at times”.
“What? How?“
“Well there was the time you burnt water while trying to heat her milk in her bottle-“
“That was years ago Harper, give me a break-“
“Ok, what about last week when you put the toaster on fire trying to make Lian cheese toasties”.
“I still can’t figure out how a five-year-old knew how to use a fire extinguisher. In my defense, that incidence speaks volumes about your household Harper”
Jason really didn’t want to be alone with Kori.
It’s not that Kori was horrible to be around, in fact, she was the nicest person Jason has ever met. Korina Marie Anders was a pleasant girl who he had been acquainted with six years ago at his adopted brother's 21st birthday. She introduced herself to him and Jason found himself lost for words for the first time in his life, much to the amusement of his entire adopted family.
Even to this day he still thought about her but he was always wary to talk to her for many reasons, one of them due to her history with his brother, “Prick” Grayson (no he didn’t get his name wrong, in Jason's mind that is the name he had christened his older adopted brother). Kori had a brief dating history, by brief meaning literally under three months. The reason why they broke up was unknown to everyone.
However, Jason was not afraid of his brother. If he didn't approach Kori, it was more the fact that he convinced himself of not being good enough and that she would never see him in that way. After all, if she didn’t want Grayson, who all of Jason’s life had known to be Bruce’s golden child, the best son, the prince of Gotham, and everyone’s favorite guy, why on gods green earth would she want him. HIM. Jason Peter Todd, the street kid Bruce Wayne took in, the troublemaker, the dark prince of Gotham.
The only people who he can handle their presence are Roy, Jade, Lian, Alfred, and maybe Tim, on a good day. It’s safe to say Jason got rid of any hope to catch the eye of Korina Anders, but that did not mean his crush went away.
He got out his trip down memory lane as Roy spoke again.
“I don’t really think your problem is about me trusting you.”
“What do you mean,” Jason narrows his eyes at his friend.
“The real issue is you can’t trust yourself around Kori,” Roy replied.
As his best friend, Jason did confide in Roy his crush on the redhead and since then Roy was on a mission to get the two together. Unfortunately, Jason always dodged every plan Roy had. Well, all except this plan. Unbeknownst to Jason, Roy knew what he was doing putting Lian into this. It would make Jason unable to say no.
His plan was working so far, he only hoped it would work in everyone’s favor. Jason’s silence was enough to convince Roy that he still had feelings for Kori. With that reassurance, he called over to his girlfriend.
“Hey babe come on, we will have to leave now, our reservation is at 7. Thanks again Kors for the recommendation and for looking after Lian tonight.”
Jade turned to Kori gratefully. “We honestly can’t thank you enough it’s been a while we have been out without Lian.”
“Babe, please, she knew how to swear in Vietnamese at three years old, and I sure as hell can't speak a word of Vietnamese, so where would she get THAT from.” Roy retorted, knowing full well he won that argument and the look on his girlfriend meant she knew it too.
Instead, she rolls her eyes at him and turns to her daughter. “Lian be a good girl for your aunt Kori and uncle Jason, ok? Mommy and daddy will be back soon, and Kori, you have both our numbers don’t hesitate to call if you need us”.
“Ok, mommy, I’ll be good me. Aunt Kori and unca Jay will have buckets of fun, won’t we?" As she turned to her uncle and aunt.
Kori answered with, “yes, we will Lian”
Jason was still wrapping around his head that Lian called Kori her aunt.
“Aunt Kori?” Jason whispered to Roy.
Roy’s reply was not what Jason expected. “Well, actually, Jade and I were hoping that title will change to godmother if all goes well.”
That left Jason lost for words while Kori and Lian waved goodbye.
Lian turned to her uncle and aunt. "What are we gonna do first? Can we play princesses? Oh, what about pony island instead or how about -?”
Lian Harper was a talker and Jason didn’t know how to control, as he liked to call them, Lian's sugar rush mode.
Kori turns to Lian and says “Did you finish your homework from school?"
Lian went sheepishly quiet and told Kori “Umm, no aunt Kori.”
Kori gave Lian a smile.
“Well, if you finish your homework we can do what you want.”
Lian thought carefully for a minute and to Jason’s surprise, she calmly replied. “Ok aunt Kori, do you pinky promise?”
She stuck out her pinky only for Kori to take and wrap it around her own. Satisfied that her aunt Kori won’t break her promise, she moved into the kitchen to start her homework. Kori then turned to Jason who had a blank expression.
Kori was concerned so she asked, “Hey Jason everything alright?”
“How did you do that,” he asked still in a daze.
“Do what?“
"Get her to listen to you. She never does that willingly, she usually needs to be bribed.”
Kori smiles at him and he feels his knees buckling. He sometimes forgets the effect she has on him.
“I’ve had a lot of practice with my brother”.
“Ah, right.” He replies and resists the urge to ask her what’s been on his mind.
Instead, she speaks. “Lian tells me you are favorite uncle,” Kori says with a knowing smile.
Jason gives her his signature smirk and tells her, “I’m her only uncle that she sees regularly, so there’s no competition. Not really”.
In a way, Jason has indeed been there for Lian since the beginning and she sees her other uncles, from Dick to Wally, only time to time as Roy isn’t hostile towards them anymore but still, the friendship will never be how it once was. Jason knows fully well how burnt bridges are beyond repair.
However, Kori shakes her head “No, I’ve seen her interact with others. It’s not the same way she looks at you. You should have seen her face when Jade told her you’ll be coming over. Her face lit up like the Fourth of July.”
Jason gives her a genuine smile, something she has not ever seen on the man before her. Always a smirk or a tight smile. So seeing this new smile she realizes it’s an expression she would like to see more of. Hopefully.
Before Jason has the chance to say anything, Lian comes back from the kitchen, finishing her work.
They all decided to play some games much to the embarrassment of Jason. Lian made both of them play pretty pony island. Kori thought Jason cooperating with Lian's demands was adorable. Jason thought he might die.
Kori then went to start making dinner for them all.
Lian turned to her favorite uncle and said “I like aunt Kori, unca Jay”
“Me too, kid.”
“Can you marry her then?”
Jason didn’t think it was possible to choke on air but he proved himself wrong.
“Wait what??? Who told- hold on a minute” Jason tried to get his bearings right before answering his goddaughter. “What are you talking about.”
“Daddy said you like her, so if you marry her she can come round all the time with you right?” She asked innocently and again she used those eyes.
Jason sadly replied, “I don’t think she likes me like that, kid.”
“Why not? your the best unca ever”
She ran over to him to give him the biggest hug she could give. Jason had a habit early in life not to live up to people's expectations because he felt he always fell short on those expectations. However, with Lian, it seemed he could do no wrong and with that, he hugged her back as much as the five years could handle.
That’s how Kori found them and she didn’t want to split them until they did themselves. They both turned to Kori as she explained dinner was ready.
Dinner surprisingly went smooth Lian didn’t make a fuss. It was then time for bed and Lian wanted a story. Jason knew her favorite story was Robin Hood, so as he read the story animatedly to her, Kori watched on the sidelines, smiling the entire time.
Lian then got put to bed as Kori left the room Lian turned to her uncle.
“Unca Jay, aunt Kori is the best babysitter in the universe but you're the best unca ever. I love you unca Jason,” and she drifted to sleep.
Jason smiled, kissed her forehead, and slowly crept out the room.
To his surprise, Kori was right outside the room.
“I told you, you're her favorite uncle. Not that I blame her,” she said with a smirk.
Is she flirting? Jason can say he wasn’t sure, so he tested his theory.
“Oh really,” he said.
“Around the people you love, you don’t pretend to be something you're not. It’s clear as day how you feel about them. You don’t hide behind a mask” Kori replied.
Immediately, Jason had the answer to his question about her flirting with him.
This must be why Prick Grayson and her broke up. Grayson was known to hide behind a mask, he portrayed one image but had another behind closed doors. As friends, it would not be as much of an issue, however, in a relationship, it’s another playing field and with a relationship with Korina Anders, who wears her heart on her sleeve, Jason was sure it caused them to clash.
“It’s difficult to show emotions when you're being raised by Bruce Wayne,” he isn’t sure why he was sticking up for Grayson or maybe it was for himself.
“Well you seem to be doing alright for yourself,” she said shyly.
“I won’t lie to you it’s not like that every day. Some days are better than others,” he admitted.
This is why he didn’t want to be alone with her. Stupid Harper.
"Why won’t you lie to me, I wouldn’t be offended if you did,” she said looking confused.
Without his brain's permission, he blurted out “You’re too good to be lied to.”
His face sure turned the color of Kori’s hair.
Kori smiled at him and admitted, “I heard what you said to Lian about me not liking you in that way. I wasn’t eavesdropping, I promise."
She suddenly turned, ashamed of Jason thinking the worst of her. However, Jason just wanted to crawl in an imaginary hole. Anywhere, please, Lord Almighty, but here with her.
“Please Kori just forget you heard that” Jason pleaded.
“Why” she whispered.
“Because I’d rather forget than you reject me.”
“Who said I would reject you” Jason looks at Kori stunned.
Kori is looking at her feet because she, like him, spilled her feelings.
“Are you serious? Since when?”
“Remember last summer in Gotham? You came back for a visit. I tried to go up to you but it was hard, I didn’t know if you saw me in that way, you always had that too cool for school vibe since I met you. I’m a nerd with an Astrophysics degree. Like I said I didn’t think u would look my way”.
Jason was floored. He never thought this would ever be a conversation but now it’s out in the open. He can’t help but wonder what if.
So right then and there he decides to throw caution to the wind and take the risk.
If anybody knew Jason Peter Todd, they would know he loves to take risks. He moves closer to Kori until there are barely inches apart and whispers to her.
“Trust me, I’ve been seeing you that way for six years, I’m pretty sure I won’t change my mind”.
Kori now was blushing and she couldn’t fight it down. This man in front of her could bring out emotions she never knew she was capable of but she accepted it.
“Me neither.”
She whispered back, afraid if she talked any louder their moment could break. And so with that, reassuring him, his feelings were reciprocated he went in for a chaste kiss. However, the moment his lips landed on hers, Kori turned it more passionate. Even if he was not expecting that from her, Jason allowed Kori to explore all she wanted, after all, he thought she might as well get used to what will be hers and hers alone.
So Jason could agree with Lian that Korina Marie Anders was indeed the best babysitter in the universe.
Now he owed the smug Roy a huge favor.
Hmm, maybe playful revenge is how he’ll show his appreciation. After all, he can’t lose his touch now, can he?
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Social distancing sucks, and Natsu's ADHD is going into overdrive being stuck in the apartment for a month with the other three.
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fairy Tail Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Rogue Cheney/Natsu Dragneel/Sting Eucliffe/Gray Fullbuster Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Polyamory, Crack, Fluff and Crack, Dancing and Singing, Taxes, Drinking, Tequila, Tequila-drunk Rogue likes country music, they're all gay and bad at math, they listen to Kesha, Kissing, Cuddling & Snuggling, they're in quarantine, Natsu has ADHD and is bored, Sting's a sweetheart, gay dorks in love, they drink tequila and do origami together
-----
“Can you turn down your music?”
Natsu turned from where he was washing dishes to look at Gray, who was sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands as he stared at a stack of paper.
“I just turned it on,” Natsu argued.
“I know that,” Gray said, exhaling sharply through his nose. “Everyone in the apartment complex knows that. Can you turn it down? I’m trying to focus.”
“I thought you were done work at four,” Natsu said as he reluctantly lowered the volume. The clock on the oven read 5:23 p.m.
“Yes, well, I’m theoretically done at four,” Gray said. “But I also thought it was Saturday, so…” He shrugged.
“Isn’t it Thursday?”
“Tuesday.” Gray yawned. “And this isn’t work.”
Continue reading on AO3
Natsu raised an eyebrow at the stack of papers sitting under a calculator. “Looks like work to me.”
“It’s our taxes,” Gray said. He leaned back in the chair and rubbed his face. “It’s ridiculous, I don’t understand why it’s fifty-three pages long. It’s way too hard.”
“That’s what she said.” Natsu grinned but Gray just glared at him. “Oh, c’mon, babe.”
“Don’t ‘c’mon, babe,’ me,” Gray grumbled. “Look, because Rogue is self-employed, I have to calculate the depreciation of—”
“Babe.” Natsu stepped forward, grabbing both of Gray’s hands and pulling him up from the chair. “I love you more than anything except possibly Sting’s cookies, but right now, you need to shut all the way up about taxes and let me listen to Kesha.”
“But—”
Natsu shook his head, interrupting Gray’s protests with a quick kiss and pulling him close. “Fifty-three pages is way too many taxes. The apartment’s gonna explode; I’m doing us all a favor.”
“That’s…” Gray huffed. “I wanna be mad but honestly I’m sick of all the math.”
“Then come dance with me,” Natsu said, letting go of Gray’s hands and settling them on his hips instead. “Or you could help me with the dishes.”
Gray hummed, then frowned as he looked over Natsu’s shoulder. “What is that?”
“A salad spinner.”
“I didn’t even know we owned a salad spinner.”
“Me neither,” Natsu said, slipping his hands under Gray’s shirt and running them up his back. “It was in the cupboard under the microwave.”
“Which you aren’t supposed to touch.”
“I didn’t! Just the cupboard.”
Gray raised an eyebrow. “So, why are you washing the salad spinner from under the microwave cupboard where none of us have looked since we moved in here?”
“Because I’m fucking bored. Sting’s not here, you’re working, and Rogue threatened to tie me up – and not in the good way – if I kept bugging him. I can’t sit still long enough to read, it’s raining so I can’t go for a walk, we’ve watched all the Star Wars movies, I can’t bake any more cookies ‘cause the pantry is full, and I’ve unlocked literally every character in Smash Bros.” He sighed, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to Gray’s shoulder. “’m sorry for bugging you.”
The frustrated tension in Gray’s neck melted away and he wrapped his arms around Natsu, kissing the top of his head. “No, I’m sorry,” he said. “I know this is harder for you than the rest of us.”
Natsu shook his head. “It sucks for everyone,” he insisted. “I just feel like it’s been eighty-seven years since I’ve seen anyone other than you guys.”
“I know. I’m honestly even starting to miss Chad.”
Gray stared at the calendar over Natsu’s shoulder. What was normally a rainbow of color-coded appointments was now mostly blank, with the occasional “call maman” or “garbage day” penciled in. None of them – except Sting, who was their designated grocery and errands person – had left the apartment for anything other than short walks in nearly five weeks.
“All right,” Gray said, pulling back and squeezing Natsu’s hands.
“All right what?”
“Turn your music back on,” Gray said. “I’ll dance with you.”
~
Sting could hear country music playing before he even opened the door to the apartment. He frowned as he shifted the grocery bags and tray of coffee cups into one hand and unlocked the door, then pushed it open and was welcomed by four purring cats.
“Hello, darlings,” Sting said, nudging them all out of the way and closing the door behind him. Soleil meowed loudly at him, rubbing herself against his leg. “Poor babies, has nobody fed you?”
“They’re dirty liars,” Natsu said from the kitchen, turning around and giving the cats an unimpressed look as he turned down the music. “We fed them an hour ago.” He wiped his hands on the dish towel and moved toward the door, then sighed and backed up at the last second.
“Gimme a sec,” Sting said apologetically, stepping past Natsu into the kitchen and setting down the bags and the coffee. “And yes, before you ask, I found pizza pops and Oreos.”
“Yesss.” Natsu hopped up on one of the stools on the other side of the counter and peered eagerly into the bags. “You’re the best.”
“I try.” Sting started wiping down the containers as he pulled them out of the grocery bags. “Where are the other two?”
“Gray’s on the balcony,” Natsu said. “He’s not smoking, I checked. I heard him yell ‘fuck’ at one point but I’m pretty sure he’s fine. I mean, as fine as he can be.”
“Mm.”
“And Rogue is—”
“Right here.” Sting frowned and it took him a second to realize that Rogue was sitting at the kitchen table, head in his arms, hidden behind a pile of paperwork.
“Ah.” Sting raised an eyebrow at Natsu. “Who gave him tequila and why?”
“That’s profiling,” Rogue said absently without looking up. “You can’t say that.”
Sting rolled his eyes, tossing the bags in the garbage and closing the fridge. “You’re listening to Shania Twain, babe. How much have you had?”
“Four shots,” Natsu replied helpfully as Sting washed his hands.
“Slander,” Rogue said absently. “It’s…” He frowned and finally looked up at Sting, gaze slightly unfocused. “Hm. Maybe you’re right.”
Sting shrugged. “That’s four less than the first time you filed our taxes,” he said, then turned and reached out to Natsu. “Somehow he actually manages to do math better when he’s drunk.”
“Am I allowed to hug you now?” Natsu asked, pulling Sting close and sighing happily as he pressed his cheek to Sting’s neck. “What’s the outside world like?”
“Dystopic,” Sting replied. He kissed Natsu’s temple. “Zombies everywhere. Without toilet paper, order has been lost.”
“Hm.” Natsu nuzzled Sting’s cheek. “Luckily they left Starbucks intact.”
“It’s a known fact that caffeine repels zombies,” Sting said, nodding.
“In that case I think I’m safe.” Gray appeared behind the two of them and wrapped his arms around Sting from behind. “Thanks for the coffee, love.” Sting tipped his head back and kissed Gray’s cheek, then squeaked as Gray slipped cold hands under his shirt.
“How much tequila have you had?” Sting asked, leaning back against Gray.
“None,” Gray insisted. Sting raised an eyebrow and Gray added, “Well, no tequila. I had a couple beers, though. Taxes are stressful.” He pressed his face into the crook of Sting’s neck.
“That’s why I hired an accountant,” Sting said, reaching out to pull Rogue into the group hug. “Because you’re all ridiculous.”
“’m not,” Rogue argued, letting Sting kiss his cheek. “We did all the maths.”
“All of them, huh?”
“Yep.” Rogue giggled as Natsu and Gray both wrapped an arm around him. “Don’t need help. Throw the whole accountant away.” He snorted with laughter and leaned against Sting’s shoulder.
“You,” Sting said, laughing, “are very drunk.”
“Look,” Rogue said. “I was dealing just fine until Gray stopped getting mad about Kesha and started singing along instead. It was a… like a different dimension. The tequila made it less real.”
“Oh my god,” Gray grumbled, at the same time that Sting asked Natsu, “You got him to sing Kesha?”
“He knows all the words to ‘Your Love is My Drug,’” Natsu said proudly as he grabbed Gray’s hand around Sting’s waist.
Sting hummed happily in the embrace, then gently nudged all three of them away and moved over to look at the paperwork on the table. “I love you all dearly,” he said, grabbing the stack, “but I’m taking this away before Natsu sets it on fire.”
“Hey!” Natsu protested. “I was gonna fold you a beautiful paper crane!”
Sting frowned. “I… think that’s illegal? Can you do that with tax forms? Also this is like… fifty-seven pages.”
“Fifty-three,” Natsu corrected eyes, reaching out for the stack. “We’re stuck in the apartment, we have fuck all to do, and I’m pretty sure there are at least fifty-three animals for me to make out of paper.”
Sting was about to argue when he noticed the way Natsu’s nails were bitten down until they were almost bleeding. “All right,” he said, handing the paper to Natsu and gesturing to the couch. “I’ll make drinks because I am not drinking tequila.”
“Good,” Rogue said, grinning as he cuddled closer to Gray, “’cause I drank it all.”
“Go help your boyfriend make origami,” Sting said, rolling his eyes as he headed back into the kitchen.
When he got back to the couch, Rogue and Gray were curled up against each other, nearly asleep with Frosche and Soleil cuddled between them. Happy sat at Natsu’s feet, batting at the balled-up paper Natsu tossed for him, while Lector lounged on the coffee table with his eyes closed.
“Here,” Sting said, sliding down next to Natsu and handing him a beer. Then he grabbed a sheet of paper and nudged Natsu’s arm. “Now show me how to make a crane.”
#fairy tail#gratsustingue#ot4#fanfic#gray fullbuster#natsu dragneel#sting eucliffe#rogue cheney#crack#fluff and crack#humor#my fic
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do you have a list of favourite anime/manga?
I've been pondering over this ask for days. I wasn't sure about the criteria at the hour to pick my choices. At the end I decided for the ones that never tire me, the ones I can read all over again without noticing. So this is my totally biased list of favorite manga titles.
Slam Dunk
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This manga follows the story of teenage delinquent and total loser Hanamichi Sakuragi, who in order to impress the beautiful basket fanatic Haruko Akagi, decides to become an athlete and join their school's basketball team, Shohoku. From there the story follows the team and their dream to finally make it as regional champions. All the characters are amazing, the games gripping, the story engaging. Also I cried like five times.
It's practically vox populi that I'm a hoe for sport stories. And Slam Dunk is hands down the very best there is. All those other sport mangas that are older or newer or even more popular? They don't get even close. Slam Dunk is just that good. The character development, the intensity of the games, the accuracy at the hour of despicting the sport. It really feels like real life basketball, not some superpowered shounen like copy. You can feel Inoue's passion and love for the sport practically emerge from the pages.
Fullmetal Alchemist
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Do I even need to give a summary for this one? Practically everybody has see the anime adaptation.
I know, I know, it's a classic. BUT YOUR LIFE WILL ONLY BE COMPLETE ONCE YOU READ THE MANGA. Brotherhood is an amazing adaptation, but it cut so many details and moments. And in an story where everything comes together as neatly as in Fma, those missing details are glaring in the final outcome. At least every fan should read the Ishbal Genocide volumes.
Yu Yu Hakusho
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AKA THE ULTIMATE SHOUNEN. Sorry DB.
Yes I'm also weak for shounens stop judging me. This manga follows 14 year old teenage delinquent Yusuke Urameshi, who surprises not only his classmates, teachers and neighbours by dying jumping in front of a car to save a little boy, but also the gods themselves. A little boy who according to the celestial records wasn't even supposed to die. Yusukes death tho is only the beginning to an amazing journey.
Of all the mangas I'm recommending this is the only one that has an accurate anime adaptation. I adore the anime to pieces, but I always return to the manga.
Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles
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Of course I had to pick something of CLAMP and after some deliberation TRC won. It's like the biggest crossover but not really mess those four crazy women had ever created and it's wonderful. To fully understand what's happening you should read tsubasa with it's twin brother, XXX Holic. Both series have to be read in order to comprehend the whole story.
DON'T WATCH THE ANIME ITS THE WORST THING EVER.
TRC follows the story of four travellers - and Mokona!-who are, all for different reasons, on a quest to recover all the feathers of Princess Sakuras memories that scattered all over the universe. But this is CLAMP we are talking about. Their only pure story is CCS. The blood and tears and suffering and amazing plot twists are a garantee.
As a color note: I cried just by SEEING the first two panels of the chapter 1. I lost count of all the times I sobbed bc of this manga.
Shingeki no Kyojin
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Well if you are following me you know this story currently owns my soul. Even if you like the anime a lot I recommed reading the manga since the beginning bc the anime team changed and ommited a lot of scenes and interactions. Honestly if it wasn't for the amazing voice acting and soundtrack I wouldnt bother with the anime at all the manga is richer. But yeah read this beauty.
Shaman King
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Another shounen. And my emotional comfort manga. It's just so refreshing and sweet and honestly all the characters are sweethearts and incredibly written. Also the story like incorporates so many different types of religious and supernatural facets without being convulted or disrespectful.
If you only watched the anime drop everything and experience first hand how they butchered it.
Fruits Basket
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I've only known this baby for less than a month and already made it into my all time fav mangas. It's probably one of the best mangas I have read in YEARS. AND IT'S SO OLD. WHERE WERE YOU 13 YEARS AGO FURUBA I COULD HAVE USED SOME OF YOUR WONDERFUL LESSONS.
Anyway yeah this shit is amazing and Yuki Sohma deserves the world. That's all I have to say about it bc the reboot is airing. Also don't watch the old anime version it's cringey and sucks.
There you have it anon. These are my all time fav mangas ever. I could have added a lot more titles but nah, this is enough. All these mangas ar5w not only excelent but also very dear to my heart. I can only speak from my experience, but I can assure you there's no way someone can have a bad time reading any of these.
I'll do the anime list later this week. Thanks for asking!!!
#anon replies#slam dunk#fma#tsubasa reservoir chronicles#shaman king#snk#fruits basket#yu yu hakusho#yeah they are almost all oldies BUT THEY ARE MY OLDIES#also no i dont accept any criticism regarding this lmao
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«-first // archive // Ramsus-kun Scanslations
★ Chapters 0-1 complete translation ★ Chapters 2-3 complete translation ★ Chapters 4-5 complete translation ★ Chapters 6-7 complete translation ★ Chapters 8-9 complete translation
For your reading pleasure and enjoyment, below the cut are the full rough English translations of chapters 10 and 11 of the official 1998 Suikoden I Soul Eater novel (volume 2 of 3). Individual page translations can be found in the chapter 10 and chapter 11 tags.
Chapter 10: Journey to the Great Forest
Gently undulating morning mist covered the surface of Toran Lake. Tir was up and out of bed before the sun even rose. He opened his window, captivated by the sight below. A sea of clouds spread as far as the eye could see, as if he were looking down into heaven from his bedroom in the old castle. The morning breeze blew in and he took a deep breath of the fresh air, stretching his body to drive away his drowsiness.
Before long, the sun rose above the mountain range in the east, dying the mist a brilliant gold. He leaned out of the window and looked to the northeast, where the imperial capital lay, then turned his gaze to the sky of the distant north, where his father Teo was currently stationed. He gave a weary sigh.
“Oh, good morning, Young Master,” called a gentle voice from across the room. “You’re up early today.”
He turned to find Gremio standing there, wearing an apron.
Ever since Tir had basically become the leader of the Liberation Army most everyone had started addressing him using some title of respect. While that was fine, as far back as he could remember, only Cleo and Pahn, whom he ate and slept with, had ever called him “Lord Tir”, and the truth was that being called that by others now made him feel like he wasn’t himself.
But Gremio called him the same thing he always had. Tir was embarrassed, of course, to be called “Young Master” in front of everyone, but he found it soothing when it was just the two of them. Gremio smiled kindly, just as he always did, and murmured, “I have already prepared breakfast so, if you like, shall we go to the dining room?”
“Sure, okay.” Tir pulled himself away from the window and quickly got dressed. “What’s for breakfast today, Gremio?” he just inquired without really thinking, but Gremio began babbling gleefully. “I’m glad you asked! Actually, we got some amazing fish in this morning, thanks to Yam Koo. And then I tried making the bouillabaisse recipe Antonio taught me, and it came out, well…“ Gremio beamed. His smile was so wide in his slender face, his eyes closed completely. “It’s not a taste you can describe with words. Won’t you be the first to give it a try, while all the rest of our greedy friends are still just waking up, Young Master? I know you’ve got a lot on your mind, but one bite of this bouillabaisse and all your troubles will simply float away.”
“Gremio…” He looked at him again, harder this time. It made him happy that Gremio had guessed that he was worried about the future of their battle against the Empire and was trying to cheer him up. He took a breath, and replied, “All right! First things first. Let’s go eat!”
He followed Gremio out of his room, walking the passages that led through the castle. The Liberation Army castle was a massive, hollowed-out stone edifice that jutted out of Toran Lake. Originally a Scarlet Moon Empire base, it had fallen into disuse when the Imperial Navy built and then moved into the floating fortress Shasarazade in the northeast.
The rocky interior was divided into six floors. The fourth floor held the rooms for the central members of the Liberation Army: tactician Mathiu and Pahn, as well as Cleo and the others, and the hall where they held war councils. The second and third floors were home to Leknaat’s apprentice, Luc, the professional gambler, Gaspar, and others, each with their own personal quarters.
The first floor held the storehouse under Rock’s watchful eye, and Chandler’s shop, plus Marie’s restaurant and the break-room-turned-sickbay. The dock was located on the first underground floor, looking out over Lake Toran, and the second underground floor was home to puppet-master Juppo and the other oddballs who liked living there, as well as the prison. Passages linked the castle together and led to the surrounding cliffs, which held still more rooms. As leader, Tir’s room was located in the west side of the main tower. The passage they were taking now led to the fourth floor.
Pahn’s snores thundered loudly from the room on the other side of the stone wall. Exiting the corridor, they arrived in the inner citadel. They opened the door across the spacious room and proceeded to go down one floor using the “elevator” device that Sergei the inventor had created. When the two of them reached the dining hall...
“Agh!" Gremio shouted and raced into the dining hall. "What are you doing, Viktor?!"
Tir peeked inside and saw Viktor sitting alone at the table in the middle of the dining hall filled with the fragrance of soup, gulping down bouillabaisse stew out of a huge cylindrical pot.
“When did you get up?! And you moved the pot to the table?!” Gremio raged, scandalized, but Viktor was unfazed. “Ooh, so you made this soup, Gremio? It’s so good I want it all for myself!”
“I’m happy to hear you say that, but...” Gremio replied, dejected. “I just wanted the young master to be the first one to get to try it.”
Perhaps finding it awkward to look Gremio in the eye just then, Viktor hastily turned to Tir and said, “Let’s eat together, Tir. Come over here and try it! This soup is ‘soup’-er delicious! Gremio really poured his chef’s heart and soul into it. With this guy’s cooking on our side, we’re gonna kick those Imperial soldier’s asses!”
Gremio began serving the soup, so Tir sat at the table, too. He took a bite and the mild flavor of the bouillabaisse flooded his mouth. The soup practically melted on his tongue, overflowing with the delicious flavor of stewed white fish meat and vegetables.
"Gremio, this soup is wonderful!"
Gremio’s face shone like the sun coming out from behind clouds. "Oh, I’m so glad! Hearing you say that makes getting up early and putting everything I’ve got into cooking this worth it! I’ll bring the bread, too. Please, eat as much as your heart desires.”
He excitedly brought a basket of bread from further back in the dining hall. The bouillabaisse became that morning’s main course, so Tir and Viktor took the bread and offered seats to their friends who were beginning to gather, moving to a table in the corner of the dining hall.
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Tir sat in the dining hall that was beginning to bustle, engrossed in eating his bouillabaisse and bread. The melancholy that had gripped his heart this morning had vanished already. But Viktor, who had finished eating and was leaning against the wall with an expression of deep satisfaction, rumbled, "By the way, Tir, you heard ‘bout what the Empire’s been up to lately?”
Tir stopped grappling with his fish bone.
“No, I haven’t heard anything from Mathiu.”
“That right?” Viktor scowled, folding his arms. “Word among our scattered comrades-in-arms regrouping here at this castle has it that the Empire is up to something suspicious in the Great Forest.”
“The Great Forest...”
The Great Forest was an area on the southeast edge of the Empire’s territory surrounded by mountains and deep forest. In the Great Forest lives the elf tribe, a long-lived people who prefer a life of elegance, the Kobold tribe, brave half-human and half-beast warriors who resemble dogs, the dwarf tribe, burly in stature and with a knack for inventing, as well as a few humans. These four tribes had been in conflict for a very long time, but no large-scale wars had broken out since each side had agreed upon a mutual nonaggression treaty known as the “Great Alliance”.
Kwanda Rosman, one of the Five Imperial Generals, had been appointed lord of Castle Pannu Yakuta in the Great Forest and ruler of the people about five years ago. Viktor said that peace in the Great Forest could have been kept, but Kwanda had apparently suddenly broken the Great Alliance three months ago and began oppressing the other tribes.
“Mmh, but...” Tir looked down, spreading the white fish meat he had gotten the bone out of on a piece of bread.
He knew Kwanda Rosman. All of the Five Imperial Generals were friends, and Kwanda had often visited his father, Teo. He had clear memories of Kwanda chatting with them, laughing heartily and drinking with his father. A stern-looking military man, once he had caught Tir gazing in wonder at the scars he could see under his armor. “This is from an arrow wound I got protecting His Majesty. I’m proud of it”, he had kindly explained.
Tir couldn’t believe, in his heart of hearts, that Kwanda would start a battle in the Great Forest. “But the Great Forest has their Great Alliance, so the Empire won’t be able to make any big moves." He said in Kwanda's defense. "Your rumors don’t mean that the Empire is going to move its forces to suppress all the tribes.”
“That’s true. And ‘til now, I would've agreed with you. But this’s what my gut tells me...” Viktor leaned over the table towards Tir and lowered his voice. “The Great Forest is gonna go up in flames soon, and you’d best talk to our tactician about what we’re gonna do when that happens.”
“I understand. Thank you, Viktor.”
Tir stuffed the bread into his mouth, rose out of his chair and was about to leave the dining hall when Gremio, standing in the doorway to the kitchen with a basket of bread in his arms, called, “Oh, are you done already, Young Master?”
Gremio’s ever-present smile made Tir want to confide in him.
“Yeah... do you have a minute, Gremio?”
Gremio’s expression grew worried. “Yes, of course. Always.”
“Why don’t we go outside for a bit of fresh air?”
“Certainly. Shall we go down to the harbor, then?”
Gremio set the bread and his apron down on a nearby table and followed Tir out of the dining hall. Tir walked without saying a word, listening to Gremio’s footsteps behind him, through the corridor and down the stairway. The deep unease he had felt this morning returned to his heart.
---
The morning mist had already cleared and the sun was glittering on the surface of the lake by the time they reached the harbor. The harbor was constructed in the bay, big enough for fifty small boats to weigh anchor. Wooden docks stretched out towards the lake on either side of the stone wharf. Fishermen Tai Ho and Yam Koo bobbed beyond the docks in their boat. Even gazing at the glittering waves with the refreshing breeze coming off the lake failed to lift Tir’s spirits.
There was just too great a difference in power between the Liberation Army and the Imperial Army. To roughly compare their numbers, Kwanda Rosman was at the head of 9,000 troops at Castle Pannu Yakuta in the Great Forest. The unit belonging to Milich Oppenheimer to the southwest of Lake Toran numbered 9,000. His father Teo’s unit in the north was 14,000 strong. In addition, Kasim Hazil’s unit was located in the Senan area to the north of Lake Toran, the Floating Fortress of Shazarazade held Sonya Shulen’s unit, and the emperor had an army twenty thousand strong on constant standby under his direct control in Gregminster, the imperial capital. The Liberation Army had been gathering their forces at this castle for over a year, but they hadn’t even amassed half the power that the Imperial Army had at its disposal. If Viktor was right, though, they were going to have to fight in the Great Forest on their own, which could spark all-out war with the Empire.
“Gremio…” Tir began, then faltered, unsure how to continue. “Do you really think we can oppose the Imperial Army as we are now?”
“Well, I’m not sure about that, but…” Gazing at the opposite bank, Gremio answered, “Our forces may be small now, but the Liberation Army will continue to grow. Flik is bringing soldiers with him from Lenankamp and there are many others in every town who are dissatisfied with the Empire. I’m not saying we’ll be a match for the entire Imperial Army, but we can certainly win a battle or two with everyone’s power combined.”
“You think so?”
Gremio was right, of course: it’s not like they had to face the Imperial Army’s forces all at once. It would take time, but if they could weaken and destroy the different units one by one, then maybe a day when victory was in sight would eventually dawn.
“Yes, you may be right.”
“Indeed. And, Young Master,“ Gremio continued, happily gazing down at Tir, "it’s okay to struggle. It’s okay to worry. Doing so is proof that you are moving forward and not running away from the difficult things in life. If it pleases you, please feel free to speak with me any time.”
“Thank you, Gremio.”
His heart felt much lighter now.
Splish…
Although it was a quiet splash, they could hear it even on the other side of the dock.
Splish…
“What is that?” Tir asked the second time they heard it.
Something white moved at the end of the dock. As they stared at it, the white shape materialized into a hand at the edge of the dock.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing, Gremio?!”
“Let’s go check it out!”
He ran, sending the stones scattered about the wharf flying. Gremio followed close behind. When they peered into the water at the end of the dock, they both uttered wordless cries. The limp body of a man clad in green clothes bobbed lifelessly in the lake. Presumably having used up the last of his strength to grab onto the dock, he wasn’t moving anymore, and if they didn’t do something about it, seemed well on his way to sinking to the cold bottom of the lake.
“Grab his arms and pull, Young Master!” Shouted Gremio, and leapt into the lake. While Tir pulled on the man’s soaked arms, Gremio lifted up the body. When they finally got him pulled up onto the dock, Tir stared in shock. The body stretched out on the dock looked human, but wasn’t. His body was slender, his skin so pale it was translucent. Long ears poked out from his bright orange hair, which had gotten wet and was plastered to his face. He wore shoulder epaulets made to look like the leaves of a tree and carried wooden arrows made on his back.
“An elf?” Gremio asked, climbing out of the lake, water pouring off him. “What in the world is he doing here? Did he swim all this way?”
“Let’s get him some help first and ask questions later.”
They carried the elf to the infirmary on the first floor. Gremio called Cleo while Tir was looking the body over, and they left his treatment in her hands. While they rushed about following Cleo’s instructions, Mathiu, Pahn and Viktor, having heard the news, came running into the room. He had been out cold for a long time, but as Cleo’s treatment took effect, he eventually opened his pale eyes. The elf groaned in pain as everyone watched over him in silence.
“Wh-where am I?”
“This is the Liberation Army’s castle. And you are…?”
Hearing Mathiu’s answer, the elf suddenly sat up. “Please, you’ve got to help me! The Imperial Army General Kwanda Rosman is going to wipe out all the elves!”
Tir was astonished. The Imperial Army has begun their attack on the Great Forest?!
He calmed down the elf, who was named Kirkus and was a young man by the standards of the elf clan, and he told them his story in more detail. It had all started with small skirmishes, but a few weeks ago Kwanda Rosman had begun oppressing each tribe in earnest.
The dwarves had moved their troops and were presently safe deep in the mountains, but as the elves’ village lay close to Castle Pannu Yakuta and the Kobolds lived near the Lost Woods they seemed to be facing imminent ruin at the hands of a large force of imperial troops. Everyone grew quiet as they listened to Kirkis’ tale. They knew too well that the Liberation Army didn’t have enough strength in its current state to fight the Imperial Army. After looking around at everyone’s expressions, Mathiu quietly asked Tir, “What would you have us do, my lord?”
“Well…” His mind was reeling, but there was only one answer he could give. “I believe humans and elves suffer the empire’s misgovernment just the same. We have all gathered here to fight this injustice, and cannot afford to ignore their treatment of any tribe.”
Kirkis looked up from the bed. “Th-thank you so much!”
Pahn, however, voiced his doubts. “But, Kirkis, you elves hate us humans, don’tcha? When I went to Kouan, I heard all about how the elf tribe act like they despise humans from the folks living in the Great Forest Village.”
“W-well…” Kirkus looked down, ashamed. “You’re right. I know what I ask is selfish, but you’re our only hope. Please, help us…”
A single tear dripped onto his fist, clenching the blanket tight, displaying none of the haughty pride of the elf tribe that Pahn had so disparaged.
“That’s enough, Pahn.” Tir said sternly. “We cannot abandon them, no matter what reason you may give.”
“I concur”, agreed Mathiu. “The Liberation Army’s one strength is that we carry the hope of the people on our shoulders. We must not betray them.”
Now Cleo spoke out. “I completely agree, but the Liberation Army is still weak. Pannu Yakuta houses a military force of significant size, and we can’t take ‘Iron Wall’ Kwanda Rosman lightly, either. To fight now would just mean pointless loss of our soldiers’ lives. Let’s come up with a better plan.”
“We can’t just rush in headlong and put a stop to Kwanda. We need more time to gather our soldiers. We’ll send a messenger to the great forest while we marshall our resouces. If we can persuade the three tribes to join forces, we may have a chance of turning the tide.”
“I’ll do it!” Kirkis shouted. “Our elders refuse to ask other tribes for help no matter how dangerous the situation grows, but I’ll try to persuade the elders and the other tribes!”
“Thank you, Lord Kirkis”, said Mathiu, turning to Tir. "Lord Tir, it may be difficult to convey our sincerity to them, even with Lord Kirkis’ help. It is dangerous, but as an expression of good faith, I would like you to act as the messenger in the capacity of our leader.”
At those words, Kirkis raised his head and looked straight at Tir in the silence that followed. The zeal he saw burning in Kirkis’s eyes strengthened his resolve.
“Okay, Mathiu. I will go to the Great Forest as well. Sound good to you, Kirkis?”
“Y-yes! Thank you so much!”
The matter was settled. That night all the soldiers gathered in the castle to begin preparations for war. Weapons, provisions for the soldiers—they had a lot to get ready.
Tir and the others quickly prepared to disembark at the harbor, the castle bustling, when Mathiu unexpectedly show up to see them off.
“Lord Tir, I would like to have a word with you…”
“What’s up? Something on your mind?” Tir set down his load and stepped up to meet him halfway.
Mathiu’s expression was meek in the light of the watch fire. He spoke quietly amidst the tumult of the harbor. “I was originally Kasim Hazil’s strategist, so I am quite familiar with Kwanda Rosman. He does have a short temper, but he was never a man prone to senseless slaughter. I just can’t imagine why he would do this.”
Memories of Kwanda Rosman suddenly flashed through Tir’s mind as well.
“Yeah, I was actually thinking the same thing…”
“Ah, so you feel the same way, Lord Tir? I see… Well, for the moment let us pour all our efforts into persuading the three tribes. Our victory hinges on it. As soon as our preparations here are complete, we will join you.”
Tir watched Mathiu return to the castle until he faded from sight, then once again picked up his load. So Tir and Kirkis, accompanied by Gremio, Cleo, and Viktor, boarded the boat and sped toward the Great Forest.
Chapter 11: The Divide Between Tribes
After crossing the lake and traveling into the Goran region, they pushed their horses for three days straight until they arrived at a small, sleepy village located to the southeast of the Great Forest. The forest to the east, deep and widespread, eventually turned into was known as the Great Forest region.
“This is the Lost Forest” explained Kirkis. “The six sages who entered into the Great Alliance erected a barrier so that only those who know the way can pass through.”
He then guided them to the secret path to the elf village. They followed the trail deep into the forest until they were completely surrounded by trees, not a single landmark in sight. They couldn’t ascertain the position of the sun because it was blocked by the foliage, so they had no way of even knowing what direction they were going.
If Kirkis weren’t here to show us the way, we’d be lost in no time.
They spent perhaps half the day in this fashion until the forest opened up and a little village lay before them.
“Whew! We finally outta that maze?” Viktor whipped his horse and galloped towards the village. Tir followed after.
The village lay on a plain in the forest and was comprised of about fifty small huts, too small for humans to live in comfortably. The huts may have been targeted by imperial soldiers in multiple attacks, as some had been burnt to cinders and others had been forcefully torn down. Even though there were clear signs that the kobolds had inhabited the village recently, like neat repairs made to some of the damaged huts, there wasn’t a single kobold in sight. Tir, sensing that something was wrong, drew his horse to a halt on the gravel path. "What is this place?" he asked, looking the village over.
Kirkis answered in a low voice, perhaps also sensing the oddness of the situation. "It's the kobold's village, but..."
Gremio unslung the axe he carried on his shoulder. "Where are all the villagers? What happened here?"
"It can't be..." Cleo muttered, climbed down from her horse. "Are we too late?" She began to examine the closest hut. Everyone else trotted through the village on their horses, but didn't find a single villager. Viktor sighed in regret. "This the work of the Empire?"
Cleo came out of the hut she had been investigating, waving a loaf of bread in her hand. "I found this bread left on the table, but that's all."
"It's still fresh.” Gremio said, puzzled. “That means the kobolds were in this village this morning, at the very least, right?"
"They were here when I passed this way a few days ago." Kirkis added, similarly bewildered.
"Where in the world have all the kobolds gone?" Tir had no sooner spoken than Viktor drew his sword from its sheath. "Here comes a fellow who looks like he knows the answer!"
Everyone looked around, alert, and something glinted in the bushes.
"An ambush?!"
Atop his horse, Tir grasped his staff. Gremio took his axe out of its leather bag, Cleo jumped on her horse and she and Kirkis both drew their weapons. "But how did they know we were coming?"
About twenty imperial foot soldiers, their armor clinking, strode out of the bushes with swords drawn. The party of five and their horses grouped together as the soldiers drew near—Tir in the middle, Gremio on the right, and Viktor on the left. Kirkis and Cleo waited in the back.
"What do we do, Young Master? Fight them? Or break through their ranks?" whispered Gremio, keeping an eye on the imperial soldiers all the while.
I doubt we’d come out unscathed if we fought them with our small group. We have the advantage of being on horseback, so we could potentially break through the enemy's ranks and escape.
“All right, let's break through.” Tir turned to Kirkis. “Which way to the elf village?”
“It's to the southeast of here. When we break through their ranks, go for the soldiers on the right.”
“Got it.”
Tir turned his horse to the right, joining Gremio’s. Viktor stayed where he was, facing the oncoming soldiers on the left. The imperial soldiers advanced steadily, occupying the entire road lined with huts. The closest soldiers would be upon them in less than fifty seconds.
Then the door of a small hut near them suddenly flew open with a bang and someone leapt out.
“The name’s Blackear Kuromimi, and I’ll never forgive the horrible things you awful humans have done to us! I’ll show you the might of a warrior of the kobold clan!
Kuromimi, Tir was shocked to see, had the body of a dog, but stood on two legs, brandishing a small sword in one hand. His tawny body was clad in a green military uniform and his ears were covered in black fur, no doubt the source of his name.
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The Imperial soldiers’ ranks erupted into chaos at the unexpected arrival of another foe. Kuromimi cut a path deep into the group of scattering soldiers all on his own. The soldiers slashed at him as he ran under their legs, nimbly dodging their swords. When he was surrounded by the soldiers, Kuromimi leapt up, curled his body into a ball and rolled, knocking away all the soldiers’ swords.
“Th-this damn dog!”
But no matter his might, Kuromimi’s attack on the soldiers was at its limit.
Tir and his group launched their attack at just the right moment. Gremio joined Kuromimi in taking on the soldiers on the right. Towards the center, Tir covered Cleo and to the left Viktor covered Kirkis. The battle was soon over—the six of them and had beat back the imperial soldiers.
“Not so hot now, are you, ya lousy rotten soldiers!” Viktor waved his sword and cursed at the imperial soldiers retreating into the thicket. Gremio and Cleo, then Kirkis too, sheathed their weapons and caught their breath.
Tir lowered his staff as well and sighed in relief. I’m glad we beat the imperial soldiers, of course, but I’m also glad we can confirm at least one member of the Kobold clan is alive and well.
Tir called out to the kobold, but Kuromimi glared daggers at Tir and snarled, “What?! I won't listen to anything from the mouths of a bunch of humans!”
He pointed his sword at them, but Tir had no intention of raising his staff. Looking into Kuromimi's eyes, smoldering with rage, filled his heart with anguish. Even if it was the work of the Imperial Army, humans had still driven the kobolds into this corner. Tir broke eye contact with Kuromimi and hung his head in shame.
The sound of footsteps on gravel broke the silence. Kirkis moved forward to stand beside Tir, who had just gotten down off his horse. "Kuromimi..."
Alarmed, Kuromimi backed up, this time pointing his sword towards Kirkis. "You're an elf, aren't you? I don't trust you or the humans. I will protect my comrades with my own strength."
"Kuromimi, please listen to me. These humans are not with the Imperial Army forces who attacked you. They're part of the Liberation Army, and we're here to help you."
“Liberation Army?”
Something seemed to occur to Kuromimi then and he approached Tir, sniffing him, getting his scent. "Hmph..." The kobold gazed at Tir. “You won't trick me! Humans and elves are all liars. You, though... you do seem kinda different. You don't smell like Kwanda.”
“You know General Kwanda?” Asked Tir, looking Kuromimi in the eye.
"'Course I know him! He's a real demon. I crossed swords with him only once, but he stunk like a monster."
"A monster?"
The five of them exchanged glances. It wasn't possible that Kwanda, one of the five imperial generals, could be a monster. Nevertheless, Kuromimi's words bothered Tir.
This must have something to do with what Mathiu spoke of before we left the castle. Kwanda wouldn't go about killing people without reason... but we won’t get to the bottom of this mystery by standing around and mulling it over here. There’s something else I have to do right now.
"Kuromimi," Tir began, and handed his staff to Kirkis.
"We are fighting the Empire. That was some fine sword work you displayed just now. Would you consider lending us your strength in our fight against the Imperial Army?"
His brown eyes flashed in anger again and Kuromimi glowered at Tir. "You want me to help humans and elves?"
Perhaps sensing this was a sensitive matter, Gremio hurriedly changed the subject. "By the way, Kuromimi, we noticed your village seems quite empty. Was everyone evacuated elsewhere?"
Kuromimi swelled with pride and his tail stood straight up. "Yeah, you got that right. I knew their troops had left since I was in charge of monitoring the enemy's castle, so I got everybody out of here and laid in wait to ambush the humans. And it totally worked! Everybody's gonna be so happy!"
That explained why the fresh loaf of bread had been left in the hut, as well as why the imperial soldiers had seemingly appeared out of the blue; they were scouting out the village when Tir and his team bumped into them.
"I see..." Viktor grinned like a cat. " Very clever. And where're yer pals now, Kuromimi?"
"This is a secret and all, but they're in the safest forest to the nor—"
Flustered, Kuromimi snapped his mouth shut. His eyes welled with tears and, with one final glare at the party, he bolted, heading north of the village. Just when they thought they had seen all sign of Kuromimi vanish into the brush, they heard his tearful shout: "You horrible humans! You won't trick me anymore! I knew I couldn't trust you!"
Seemingly amused at just how easily Kuromimi had fallen for his smooth talk, Viktor held back his mirth and shouted in return, "Yer secret's safe with us! You can trust us to not tell those Imperial Army bastards."
"Really? You promise you won't tell?"
"Yes, of course!" shouted Tir, but they heard no further reply from Kuromimi. Tir felt awful. Viktor clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Whatever, it's all good. The important thing is that we'll keep our promise."
"Yeah, I guess so..."
Tir gazed into the forest where Kuromimi had vanished. Behind him, Kirkis spoke. "Lord Tir..."
"Yeah, I know." He turned around and took his staff back from Kirkis. "If soldiers are here in the Kobold village, then the Elf village is in danger, too. We must hurry."
Tir's heart, however, lay heavy in his chest. He couldn't stop thinking about the rage he had seen in Kuromimi's eyes. That anger had seared itself into his mind. Kuromimi really doesn't want to have anything to do with humans... I get the feeling that convincing the three clans to work together is going to be even harder than I thought.
---
They pushed their horses without pause for an entire day after they left the Kobold village. Kirkis, who had taken the lead, drew his steed to a halt when a thick forest came into view across the plains, bathed in the afterglow of the sunset.
"There it is. Our village lies in the middle of that forest."
They all turned to look in the direction he was pointing and saw one noticeably larger tree towering above the rest of the forest. That mighty tree, it is said, is itself the Elf village; the elves walk its branches, and build their homes nestled among them.
Whipping their horses onward, Tir and the others galloped across the plain. As they traveled further, a giant stone building materialized as well, looming to the distant north of the sprawling forest. The spires poked out above the trees as if watching them even now.
Tir looked over at Kirkis while still urging his horse forward. "What is that structure over there?"
"That's Pannu Yakuta", answered Kirkis. "Kwanda Rosman's stronghold."
"So that's it, huh?"
Tir gauged the distance between the elf village and Pannu Yakuta. Looks like it would take about half a day to walk. Feels weird to have our enemies within our sights like this.
They sped up their pace and eventually arrived at the giant tree. Kirkis saw something, shouted in alarm and leapt off his horse.
"These are elven arrows! They weren't here when I left the village—imperial soldiers have come through here. I knew this would happen!"
They peered at the arrows Kirkis picked up, then looked all around them. Arrows were scattered among the roots of the large tree, jutting up from the earth, and poking out of the forest trees. Kirkis took this all in with an uneasy expression.
"I wouldn't worry too much, Kirkis." said Cleo, climbing down from her horse. "There are no bodies or even blood in the grass. It's clear a battle was fought here, but the elves may have driven off the imperial soldiers with their arrows, right?"
"That's true..."
Kirkis gazed up at the massive tree, and Tir followed suit, looking up at the elf village. The trunk was so large it would take twenty adults with their arms outstretched to encircle it in its entirety. The tree's height was obscured by its leaves, but Tir would guess it stood even taller than the castle back in Gregminster. It was truly a sight to behold, its magnificent branches—each one perhaps the length of five adult's strides side by side—stretching out in all four directions.
Just as Kirkis had said, boards connected the branches, and they could see thatched houses of green grass here and there. The houses were untouched; it appeared the elves had safely avoided the imperial soldiers. Perhaps relieved at the sight of the village, Kirkis took a breath, then whistled. In response, a rope ladder was lowered down to them.
Tir and the others bundled their weapons and baggage together, secured them to their horses, and tied the horses to a nearby tree. They followed Kirkis up the rope ladder. When they reached the center or so of the massive tree, there were a number of boards laid out to make a wide, floor-like space. Five buildings surrounded the central trunk and Kirkis pointed toward the largest one. "That's the chief elder's home."
Tir turned to look and saw two armed elf sentries stood watch outside the chief elder's house, glaring at their group.
They approached the sentries. Looking at the five of them, one sentry called out, "What in the world are you thinking, bringing these filthy humans to our village, Kirkis?"
Glaring at the sentry, Kirkis shot back, "These humans are high-ranking members of the Liberation Army. Please don't confuse them with the Imperial Army. They have something they wish to discuss with the chief elder. Please convey this to him."
The sentry gave Kirkis a look, then lifted up the partition cloth at the entryway and ducked inside. A short time later, he stuck his head back out.
"All right, Kirkis. Seems like the chief elder will listen to what they have to say."
"Well then, Lord Tir. Shall we?" asked Kirkis quietly. The sentries drew aside, and Kirkis slipped through the doorway. Leaving Gremio, Cleo and Viktor waiting outside, Tir followed him, feeling just a bit nervous.
A strict voice demanded, "Is that you, Kirkis?" the instant they stepped into the room. Tir stood by Kirkis' side, looking at the center of the room where the chief elder sat in a chair, glaring directly at them, surrounded by armed elves.
Elves are a long-lived race, and the chief elder's brilliant white hair cascaded down his back and his body was clad in vermilion robes. His eyes were half-hidden by his long brows, but they gleamed as if he were all-seeing. As the elder looked at Tir, Tir saw his eyes flash in anger, just as the kobold Kuromimi's had.
Guess the chief elder isn't going to exactly be jumping on the Liberation Army bandwagon, either.
Nevertheless, Tir summoned all his courage, and knelt before the chief elder, intending to extend every courtesy at his disposal. "Thank you for meeting with us today, Honorable Chief Elder of the Elf Clan. I am Tir McDohl, the leader of the Liberation Army."
But the chief elder just snorted at Tir and turned his gaze back towards Kirkis. "You are a fool, Kirkis. What were you thinking, leaving the village without my permission?"
"W-well, sir..." Kirkis answered deferentially. "There are those among the humans who are fighting the empire just as we are. Lord Tir is one of them. I left the village to seek his aid, to protect the village—"
"Silence!" roared the chief elder, interrupting Kirkis mid-sentence. "'Protect the village'? Rubbish. We don't need the help of humans to protect our own village."
"But Honorable Chief Elder, our war with the Empire has already gone on for so long, and our ranks are dwindling. It seems our forces alone are not up to the task of defending our village. That's why I—"
"Hmph. You are still young." The chief elder shook his head in silent bemusement. "Just give it a moment's thought and you will see how foolish you are. The Imperial Army is made up of humans, and the Liberation Army fighting them is also composed of humans, is it not?"
"Well, yes..."
"Then you understand. Humans are weak-willed creatures warring among themselves! What in the world makes you think they will be any more dependable or useful when it comes time to fight for us?"
The chief elder's words sparked a deep shame in Tir's heart. He's absolutely right. Of course we can't coexist peacefully with the other races when us humans can't even get along with other humans without going to war.
Tir and Kirkis both fell silent. Gazing at them, the chief elder continued, "We may have lost ground to Kwanda's forces, but they are only human, after all. It seems they have tired of playing war, as they have grown meek of late. The soldiers still come, but never in great force."
"But Honorable Chief Elder—" Kirkis rallied, but the chief elder turned a deaf ear to his pleas. "That is enough, Kirkis. You left the village without permission, and then you had the nerve to drag this human scum back in with you. Cool your head in the village prison. It will do you good."
"Please, wait! We still need to tell you—"
The chief signaled with his eyes and the soldiers on his right and left drew their swords. Tir and Kirkis both shouted at the elder chief, but to no avail—the soldiers pushed them right out of the house. Quick as thought, more soldiers appeared and surrounded Gremio and the others. Since they couldn't exactly fight back, they had no choice but to be led to the prison, hollowed out in the trunk of the great tree.
---
The guards jabbed at them, shooing them down the stairway into the prison. Tir sighed. Not only did we fail to enlist the elves' aid, we've been thrown into prison, and now we don't even get to ask them about visiting the Dwarf tribe?
"Of course it's only natural they would hate us humans, I suppose..." Said Gremio sadly, walking in front of Tir.
Behind him, Kirkis piped up. "We're not all like that. I don't hate you guys, anyway."
Kirkis' words gave Tir hope, but before he could form any reply of his own, they reached the prison cell.
The light of the setting sun filtered in through a small window in the ceiling. One soldier unlocked the cell with a click.
"Hm?" A woman's voice echoed from within the cell. "And who are these people?"
Peering in, Tir saw the speaker on the other side of the wooden cell bars. She wore a metal breastplate atop red attire. Her chestnut hair tumbling to her waist, she crouched motionless in a corner of the cell.
"What, don't you know each other? Aren't all you humans buddies?" The guard sneered, laughing.
"Hey, when are you letting me out of here?"
"Oh, my, are the furnishings not to your liking? That's funny—I thought human scum just love cramped and dirty places!"
"Say that again, you...!"
The woman lost her temper, but the soldier pretended not to notice. Grinning, he turned toward Tir's group and pointed into the cell with his sword.
"Hmph! Buncha blockheads!"
The woman's deep sigh seemed to fill the cell that Tir and the others stepped into. Once they were all inside, the soldier locked it once more, and went back up the stairs.
A deathly silence filled the cell. Tir and the others sat in a circle, glancing at each other without speaking, not sure who would speak first. They felt helpless, of course, at having been locked up in the cell, but they were also unsure about what kind of person they were now sharing the cell with.
She must be a soldier, if that breastplate is anything to go by. She could be a soldier gone rouge, or an Imperial Army soldier captured in battle and now held prisoner.
"Hey, you got a minute?" Viktor asked, shifting from his position diagonally across from Tir. "Guessin' yer a soldier from those clothes of yours. How'd you wind up here?"
The female soldier glanced at Viktor, scowling. Viktor held her gaze, unblinking. Sparks flew in the silence, but the soldier eventually gave in, and spoke in a quiet, measured tone.
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"Suppose I've got a captive audience... what's there to lose?" She drew her knees up, hugging them. Looking down, she pulled her hair back from her face and began to speak, her expression grave. "I was born and raised in a small village near the Great Forest. As fate would have it, I took the opportunity to join General Kwanda's army during the War of Succession, but..."
Viktor leaned in eagerly. "But?"
"Well, General Kwanda started acting odd about a year ago. You know how he’s been putting down the elves' rebellions time and time again over the past three months?"
"Yeah?" Viktor nodded, showing he was listening.
"He has no intention of ceasing his oppression of the elves—on the contrary, he's begun construction of a fearsome weapon that will completely eradicate them."
"What?!" shouted Kirkis.
"It's known as the Burning Mirror. They say it can somehow gather heat from the atmosphere and unleash it, burning down the forest in an instant. It would wipe out the Elf Village, not to mention my own..."
"How could the Empire do something so awful?" Cleo whispered.
"That's why I betrayed the Empire; to stop the Burning Mirror from ever being completed. I came here to offer my help to the Elf Village."
"You betrayed... the Empire?"
She looked at Tir as if her decision were the most natural and obvious choice in all the world. "I sure did. Nothing is more important to me than my home. Do I need any other reason?"
Her words deeply impressed Tir. She smiled in a rather lonely fashion and continued.
"I thought I would throw in my lot with the elves and together we could destroy the Burning Mirror. Obviously, as you can see, those hardheaded fools didn't think much of my idea."
She shrugged, as if to make light of the situation, but everyone's heads were too filled with thoughts of the horrible Burning Mirror to reply.
Viktor turned and put his mouth close to Tir's ear. "This ain't good, Tir. We can't stick around here. We gotta do something, or we're gonna get burnt to a crisp along with the elf village."
"Yeah, we'd better get out of here quick."
Tir and Viktor stood and started testing the bars of the cell. They were sturdy, though, and it didn't seem like they would be able to break them. Plus, everyone's weapons were still tied to the backs of their horses.
While they tried out one thing and then another, time passed. Before they knew it, moonlight was streaming in through the window in the ceiling. They had tried everything they could think of, to no avail. Tir stopped to rest.
That's when they heard a small sound.
Everyone turned their head at the noise and saw the stairs were lit by a dim light. They all held their breath and watched as the light moved down the stairs, accompanied by quiet footsteps.
"Kirkis..." called a clear voice. A beautiful elf with long lavender hair appeared before them.
"Sylvina..."
The elf Kirkis called Sylvina wore a deep green dress that swayed as she dashed nimbly to the cell door. "Oh, Kirkis... Grandpa told me not to see you, but I just have to speak with you, no matter what."
Kirkis stood, turning to the rest of them. "Friends, meet Sylvina. She's the chief elder's granddaughter and my, well... my fiancé."
Glancing back at the shocked expressions on their faces, Kirkis stood across from Sylvina, who was on the other side of the wooden cell bars. "Of course, Sylvina. What did you want to speak about?"
"Well..." Sylvina hesitated, then seemed to make up her mind. "I know that you want to save the village, but.... but why would you join forces with humans? I just can't understand it."
"Sylvina, listen..." Kirkis put his hand through the cell bars and gently squeezed her hand. "Right now, we despise humans and dwarves, so they hate us and our kind in return. But what if that's not the way it has to be? We are all born into this world, and each of our lives are precious things." Kirkis took a breath. The flame on the candle Sylvina held wavered, casting flickering light. "Isn't it sad, the way we treat each other? Is it really okay to hate somebody else just because they're a different race? Are we really okay with that? Humans aren't all bad—some of them are even pretty great. That's what I wanted to tell the chief elder. I want this war ended as soon as possible, so we can build a world where everyone can live in harmony with one another."
Sylvina's lips parted. "Kirkis... I'm sorry. I just can't sympathize. Humans are deceitful, and dwarves are frightening."
"I see..." mumbled Kirkis. Sylvina let go of Kirkis' hand and reached into her long lavender locks.
"But... even if I can't understand, I do believe in you."
She held out her hand. Atop her pale palm sat the key to the cell, sparkling in the candlelight.
"I will do my best to believe in what you believe. So, please believe in me, too."
"Thank you, Sylvina. I'll do everything I can to protect our village and everyone in it."
He took her hand and accepted the key. He unlocked the padlock on the cell door, and they took the stairs up and out into the Elf Village.
Sylvina had gone out first and now called back to them, "It's safe, the coast is clear." They climbed down the rope ladder, which was near at hand, and arrived back at the roots of the great tree. The horses were still tied to their tree, and none too happy about it, and their belongings were still upon their backs.
"And just where are you lot rushing off to?" Asked the soldier, who had also slipped out of the prison with them. She looked at Tir as he sat on his horse.
Kirkis, also climbing on his horse, answered. “I’m thinking it’s likely the dwarves made the Burning Mirror. Since we don’t know how it then fell into Kwanda’s hands, I believe going to hear the full story might prove useful.”
"The dwarves, huh?" She muttered, appraising the five of them. "Seeing as how we all want to protect this forest, mind if I join you guys? I won't slow you down."
"Whaddya say, Tir?"
The soldier's eyes widened. "Tir... I've heard that name before. So you guys belong to the Liberation Army."
"That's right. I'm Tir McDohl. And what is your name?"
She laughed. “They called me Valeria the Raging Flame during my stint in the Imperial Army.”
“I sympathize with your desire to protect your hometown, Valeria. Will you lend us your strength and fight alongside us?”
“Nothing would give me greater pleasure than joining even the lowest ranks of your army.”
As her formal, military-style speech drew to a close, Valeria whistled. Something rustled in the depths of the forest, and from out of the shadows of the foliage came a swift steed.
“I left her in the forest on the off chance that we might be separated.”
They watched her mount her beloved horse, gently patting the horse’s neck. Kirkis turned to Sylvina. “Will you come with us, Sylvina?”
But Sylvina gave a small shake of her head. “No, I’ll stay here. I’ll wait for you here, in our village. So you’d better come back to me, Kirkis.”
“I will, I promise. I won’t do anything to make you sad ever again, Sylvina.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Seeing off the lonely-seeming Sylvina, the six of them galloped off towards the mountains where the dwarf tribe live in the northeast.
The sound of their horses’ hooves reverberated beneath the night sky. A world where everyone can live together in peace. I want to protect this forest, thought Tir. I won’t let Valeria and Kirkis’ dreams go to waste.
#Suikoden#Soul Eater#Chapter 10#chapter 11#English#Translations#Hooray!!!#This is really satisfying to post after so long
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FAN ART FRIDAY: ALL THE WARRIORS, Part 2
And to think I was planning to fit all of the OCs into one week...yeah, not happening. With 50+ entries and counting, I’ll be lucky to fit them all into four parts.
Welcome back to Part 2 of “All The Warriors”, a multi-week showcase of the Katana ZERO community’s awesome fan characters! The volume of submissions for this event has been mind-blowing, to the point where I’ve had to create a dedicated Excel spreadsheet to keep track of them all. If you haven’t submitted your character yet, there’s still one week left! If you have, rest assured that it’ll will be included eventually, so please be patient!
For those who missed it, don’t forget to check out Part 1 of this series.
[WARNING: The work herein is based on fan creations, and should not be considered canon.]
Alpha 13, “Believer” by @DokusatsuMurXer
What is the loneliest number? ‘One’, you say? Nope, it’s 13...Alpha 13, that is.
Being one of the first Alpha-series NULL, it’s likely that Thirteen joined purely out of adoration for the illusive “Great Scientist”—a noble cause compared to the violent psychosis that defined the later Gamma-series NULL. While it’s clear he’s taken lives in service of his one-sided infatuation, it’s hard not to see him as another victim, still pining for his senpai’s attention even after everyone’s graduated and moved away years ago. Why do we always love the one who will hurt us the most?
According to @DokusatsuMurXer’s, the drunken swirls in his Post-war portrait are hiding something much steamier. I can only imagine.
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Please, senpai. By @DokusatsuMurXer
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Beta 6, “Blade” by @Khwany_kawawii
In the Third District, there’s only two ways to get what you need: by coercion, or by force. Beta 6 opts for both, and seems to have a reputation on par with The Dragon amongst hapless goons. Ironically, it seems amnesiac NULL like Blade or Zero are the ones who kept going on killing sprees after the war, instead of throwing in with criminal syndicates or settling into an ordinary day job.
Her giant curtain of hair, while a bit ridiculous-looking standing still, would certainly add a sense of dynamism as she flipped and pirouetted in midair, tossing knives left and right. Also, knives.
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“With no drugs, I will die. But with the drugs...I am the Killing Angel.” By @Khwany_kawawii
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Ema by @Khwany_kawawii
Well, would you look at that. Not only is Ema our first non-NULL OC, but also the first...*drum roll*...Cromag! That’s right—as a child, Ema barely survived a NULL attack that killed her family, and she’s dedicated her life to finding whoever was responsible ever since.
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The concept of a private eye in Katana ZERO’s neo-noir metropolis, especially one who suffers from such intense trauma and racial discrimination, has fantastic plot potential. What if she finds the NULL who orphaned her, but they don’t remember it? What if they have to team up? I can’t help but wonder how long an average woman (bionic arm aside) could survive in this dark underbelly of drugged-up super-soldiers...
—
Gamma 4 by @camellia_066
Not every hero dies on a battlefield.
Being a commander means taking responsibility for those under your command. For some that extends beyond wartime, and especially so after the one-way process of becoming NULL; while an Alpha could skip doses of Chronos with nothing more than a nosebleed, a Gamma might require twice the dosage just to stay lucid.
Maybe the weight of New Mecca’s defeat was too much for him to bear. Maybe he knew that a cure for Chronos was a pipedream. But it was better to die for the slim chance of salvation than witness his former comrades slaughter one another for just another dose.
—
Gamma 12 by @wqwrppwu
So this is who’s been stealing my Uber Eats.
The idea of a Gamma-level NULL—especially one as devious-looking as Gamma 12—working as a pizza guy is hilarious to me. I have a soft spot for features like thin noses, wild eyes, and razor teeth that just scream “bad guy, stay away”. Most other NULL would just kill the cashier and take what they want, but Twelve uses his powers to steal booze and cigarettes and get away with it, every time.
It makes sense that he’d be best friends with Alpha 25, “Pomidor” (see Part 1) thanks to their mutual eccentricity and love of mayhem.
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Camaraderie at work. By @wqwrppwu
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Gamma 5 by twink-182
Beta 6 had better be a wizard to claim the nickname “Blade”, given how many Gamma-level knife experts roam the city’s underbelly. Once part of Fifteen’s circle of former NULL, Gamma 5 evidently saw the writing on the wall and decided to leave before his comrade’s vendetta drew him deeper into danger. Otherwise, who knows, we might have had a quick, teleporting knife-thrower heckling us throughout the Headhunter boss fight...yeah, maybe it’s for the best that he’s M.I.A.
I’m guessing the photo and red string is just another point on Fifteen’s byzantine conspiracy board; I hope we get to see the whole thing one day.
—
Alpha 4 by @kym0433
As with any conflict, the end of Cromag War produced massive windfalls for organized crime in terms of illegal weapons, war drugs, and super-soldiers thirsty for Chronos. Luckily for Alpha 4, the Chinese had carved out their own niche in New Mecca’s Chinatown, and they offered him a steady supply of "ke le nuo si”, as they called it, plus a cushy job as a bodyguard; after all, who would dare to start trouble on their turf? Who, but a certain samurai who walked up to the roulette table one day...
While Ted might not be the strongest NULL, he leads the pack in terms of fashion. No musty olive fatigues for this killer—whether it’s a traditional patterned chengshan or tasseled shawl, Ted makes it look awesome. No one would even suspect he’s hiding weapons under there!
By @kym0433
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Beta 24, “Cecil” by @Tacoyaki86
Contrary to popular belief, the inability to feel pain is not a superpower, especially when paired with a military specialization as hazardous as demolitions and bomb disposal. Imagine not realizing your hands got blown off until you reached for a sip of coffee. That, and you’d be stone deaf from constant close-range explosions and minigun fire.
Knowing that, I can understand Beta 24′s desire to spend a quiet veterancy at a manga café, where the otaku don’t want to chat anyway and the biggest risks are coffee burns and paper cuts.
Also, is that chevron on his beret the same as Headhunter’s? That must indicate rank, or possibly explosives experts. Given Headhunter’s propensity for sticky mines and suicide vests, I’d believe it.
“Detonation successful!” By @Tacoyaki86
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Gamma 767, “Retana” by @TailWood
Given how many NULL prefer close-range weapons like knives, swords, and bludgeons, having to fire artillery from kilometers away must seem like a crushing indignity for a Gamma like 767: slowing time just means it takes longer for his rockets to hit their targets, and he can’t even collect any trophies to show off to the guys at the bar once they’re off-duty! But hey, someone’s got to do it; I don’t think even the sharpest steel would do much against a tank...
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By @TailWood
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Gamma 9, “Nara” by @couriervictor
Sadism and sharp objects don’t pair well together. It was never explained why Headhunter chose to wear her old uniform everywhere, but in Gamma 9′s case it’s pretty clear: he’s an elite, and he wants you to know it. Lack of physical strength doesn’t matter, since everyone in Katana ZERO died in one hit anyway, and his affinity for throwing knives reminds me of Biker’s levels from Hotline Miami. More knives.
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Alpha 35, “Sako” by @matsumatsu_kou
For a Gamma NULL, overcoming a debilitating wound is as simple as using their powers to ‘reset’ and try again until they can win the battle without a single scratch. Sadly, that wasn’t an option for their lesser Alpha brethren, as evidenced by Alpha 35.
There have been known cases of NULL choosing to retain scars and other superficial injuries as badges of honor, but if there’s a reason why Sako chooses to fight with a blind eye and busted arm, it’s beyond me. However, if Proto-15 is anything to go by, battle damage is a huge plus for you ferals out there, and it gives him an extra place to store those KNIVES. *snickt*
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By @matsumatsu_kou
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Beta 74 by @cheezysucks
“Take everything from a man but his weapon, and do not judge him thereafter.”
Even in the far-flung future of New Mecca, it seems PTSD still haunts soldiers returning from conflict, even those as exceptional as NULL—if a near-death experience is harrowing, imagine the trauma of countless actual deaths, each instance being dragged backwards in time to start over.
Still, as far as ex-NULL go, Beta 74 chose as honest a job as his ilk can manage, given their stigma abroad. And oh, wow, is he wearing a pair of those funky four-eyed night-vision goggles? Look them up, they’re real, and just as absurd-looking.
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Gamma 5, “Heatseeker” by 6at
Pour one out for another fallen warrior, Gamma 5 (yes, I know there was already a Gamma 5 earlier, won’t be the last time this happens). Five seems more like a tactical fire commander than your average NULL, with actual combat armor and a bubble helmet seemingly inspired by early concept versions of Headhunter’s gear, replete with a digitized HUD; pretty slick-looking, I must say.
Knowing how far far New Mecca went to cover up the NULL program, I’m surprised they let Five live as long as they did, though his hermetic lifestyle likely made him a minimal risk. I’m guessing he was terminated around the same time the government halted the production of Chronos. Coincidence?
Seems like ‘Heatseeker’ attracted a bit too much heat, heh heh.
—
And that was Part 2 of our Katana ZERO OC event. Is your finger tired from scrolling yet? Not as much as mine...
Click here to read ‘Part 3: Was Going To Be The Finale But I’m Drowning’. Thanks immensely to every single artist who’s submitted their characters and expanded the world of Katana ZERO just a bit more!
By @wqwrppwu
#askiisoft#Devolver Digital#fan art#fan art friday#original character#do#not#steal#katanazero#katana zero
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Chapter 102: Escape Route
So… I have a confession to make.
I actually read this chapter weeks ago, when I had those few missed updates a while ago. And since reading it, I find myself for the first time ever since doing this rant series…lost for words.
I know!
And I don’t mean that to say this chapter is confusing, or aggravating, or too good to talk shit about, it’s just…empty. Which is weird, given that on paper there’s some juicy elements to talk about. In fact, I was initially pretty excited to go into this chapter given that this is the chapter that gave us:
So how the hell can I say there’s nothing to talk about? Well, it’s all in the summary. The chapter starts with the panel I presented in the beginning, where Lucy establishes that it’s Augustus’ birthday. There’s a bit of back and forth which is cute, but it’s all just fluff to get us to…
A retcon of that one chapter where Lucy tried to ride the bus with Augustus! Except instead of being kicked off the bus for bus hopping, she instead gets to stay. Now that might seem like a semi-interesting concept, but it’s really not and it’s evident in the chapter. It’s basically just this
Lucy sees the place that Augustus lives in, and what it’s like in the inner city, and a glimpse into his home life. She’s culture shocked, and ends up sleeping over, where she has
THE DREAM
but then we snap back to reality and nothing is really changed. I’m glossing over a lot here, but the thing is, while reading this chapter I felt oddly underwhelmed. It felt like I already knew everything that would happen in this chapter. Which might be chalked up to me being spoiled about the Alejandro dream when this chapter initially came out, but then again I’m no stranger to spoilers. And in fact, a lot of times spoilers lead to more interest from me, because I want to know how we got to those big moments, and a lot of times there’s things that were missed while everyone was focused on that big moment which is where a lot of my rants get their material from. A good example of this, being the carnival.
I knew about this line and the implications when it came out, but it didn’t spoil it for me. There were plenty of surprises and criticisms to throw outside of this one boneheaded moment. There was more than just this one scene to make me perk up and dive into, such as Lacey’s behavior following this confession. But here?
Outside of the alleyway nightmare sequence, there’s nothing to dig into. Which baffles me so much I’ve had to sit and stew on what the fuck to even talk about for weeks! Because there SHOULD be something to talk about here, there’s a new event going on, a return to form of having an alternate take on a previous situation. You’d think, as someone who basically started their artistic comeback doing that exact same thing I’d have more to talk about here, but I’m kinda stumped. What do I talk about?
Oh, we see that Augustus lives in poverty and has bad parents? Yeah, we already knew that!
Well okay, we may have known that but maybe this is about showing that Lucy knows that now too, and it’s showing her come to this revelation! Which that might be true, except for the fact that
WE ALREADY KNOW LUCY KNOWS THIS SHIT, WHEN AUGUSTUS TOLD HER!
But what about Alejandro? Maybe this chapter is meant to be a refresher to the audience to remind us that Alejandro’s a threat, except that’s even weaker because his existence as a real threat, was already reestablished THE SAME CHAPTER LUCY CAME BACK IN!
Any information to be gathered from this chapter is either surface level shit, or just stuff that every reader already knows about. And what makes this even worse is the fact that THIS WAS A FUCKING REDRAW OF A BCI EXCLUSIVE COMIC!
So anyone who actually read that, and paid money to see that exclusive storyline was rewarded by having to wait at least TEN FUCKING WEEKS to read the same fucking shit they read before! And yes, I am going to talk about the BCI exclusive, because it made me kind of excited to dive into this chapter knowing that I could double dip, by comparing the BCI exclusive version to the canon version. And it would’ve been a moral dilemma for me to show you this, because I do respect Taeshi’s private art and not showing what she may not want to show. And I would feel bad about showing something that people paid money to exclusively see… if it weren’t for the fact that IT IS A COMPLETE PANEL-BY-PANEL CARBON COPY OF THE FUCKING EXCLUSIVE! I COULD SHOW YOU THE ENTIRE FUCKING BCI COMIC, AND IT WOULDN’T MATTER AT ALL, BECAUSE IF YOU’VE READ THIS CHAPTER YOU’VE ALREADY READ THE FUCKING EXCLUSIVE SO IT DOESN’T EVEN MATTER!
“But wait!” you might be saying, “That’s not entirely true. Taeshi redrew the pages, and changed bits of the dialogue!” And you know what? You’re right! She did, let’s talk about that shall we?
These are the only things she changed, just dialogue tweaks. And you might be thinking, “Okay I see what you mean. These are all just minor changes, that really don’t deviate in any substantial way to the chapter’s story.” Except… if you pair this with the other thing that wasn’t in the BCI exclusive, it’s quite clear what these little changes really insinuate, and what they mean. Because, you know what wasn’t in the BCI exclusive?
This scene and yes the entire dream sequence, which I haven’t touched too much on wasn’t in the BCI exclusive. It was created solely for the canon adaptation and if pair this with the minor dialogue changes I specifically brought up, you’ll see why they’re actually significant..
First of all, I just need to point this out because I saw it, and now you can’t unsee it either.
Lucy’s going full owl head here. These guys must be freaks to hit on someone doing the fucking exorcist full neck turn. But don’t let the owl head distract you, bear in mind that those five panels I showed from the BCI was the entire exchange and reaction between Lucy and these creeps. However, in the canon…
It actually lingers on a bit more, we see the guys’ faces and them leering at Lucy, it has more implications outside of a simple cat-calling (no pun intended). It’s more focus on Lucy trying to act tough and stifle her fears.
But this change really shows what the changes are really trying to get at here. The original line insinuates more than violence, but could mean death. Whereas the change to “He’d be more than excited to know you came way out here.” Is pretty clear in its implication. And this implication is indicative of what this chapter is really trying to establish. And the implication is…
THE R-WORD. And no, I don’t mean THAT R-Word you assholes; I mean the R-word that gets brought up whenever you talk about Augustus x Daisy, the R-Word that is tied to Alejandro, the R-Word that is brought up to excuse Lucy’s change in character, the R-Word I refrained from using in the carnival chapter because I don’t want to talk about that... I’m talking about…
Rape.
You wanna know what the whole purpose of this chapter is about? If you break away all the needless information that we already know about Augustus, the only thing to take away from this chapter and its dream within a flashback…is that Lucy was almost raped… it has traumatized her, and she need serious help. And after realizing that, and the fact that the entire trip is pointless in giving the reader anything new to chew on, I can’t even give a thought to the rest of that dream sequence, as it’s just that Lucy distrusts her friends and feels isolated. Even if I talk about that, and what interesting things to gather from it there may be, I know it doesn’t matter because it’s a fucking DREAM WITHIN A FLASHBACK! And if we look at this chapter and break it down to brass tacks, all this chapter tries to accomplish is trying to make us sympathize with Lucy by bringing up the absolute worst fucking thing imaginable. And it just so happens that this is during after we’ve seen Lucy do some messed up shit to her former friends. Perhaps this chapter is meant to make us feel pity for Lucy, and let that pity excuse the bullshit she’s done. But pulling out the rape card? That’s fucking low. This chapter aside from the rapey bits, is just numbing. Like I said, everything that this scenario could’ve dived into or revealed were revealed and reinforced already. And I remember when this chapter was coming out, even us shitposters and loving haters were fucking bored to tears, counting the fucking days for this chapter to end. But I know what some might say,
“You’re being unfair, Lt! Of course you know this stuff, you’re a fanatic! This is a refresher for everyone, because they may not remember the stuff with Alejandro! They may not be so well versed, and you yourself even complained how there were minor things you forgot about in the canon that needed to be reminded to you!” and you know what?
Ya might be right there, pally. You might be right, the dedicated fanbase probably could use a refresher on the threat of Alejandro, I mean who’s gonna remember that plot point from all the way back in Volume 1? Except that like I stated in the beginning of this rant...
THE THREAT OF ALEJANDRO AND THE EFFECT HE HAS ON LUCY AND AUGUSTUS WAS ALREADY RE-ESTABLISHED SEVEN CHAPTERS AGO! HIS INFLUENCE IS EVER PRESENT WITH AUGUSTUS!
“But that’s seven chapters ago! In real time, that was like a year difference. You can’t just expect readers to remember that!” Well maybe you’re right, maybe you’re right. But wait!
AREN’T YOU THE SAME PEOPLE WHO TELL ME AND MANY OTHER READERS THAT THIS COMIC IS MEANT TO BE READ IN BINGE FORM?! WHERE IT’S CHAPTER BY CHAPTER! BUT NOW YOU WANNA GIVE A BREAK TO THE ADDICTS WAITING WITH BAITED BREATH DAY ON END FOR AN UPDATE!? WHAT IS THE FUCKING POINT?!
sigh...
In closing… This chapter above all else, and I’m surprised to say this… Is utterly pointless. It’s nothing but shock value, meant to reinforce the fucked up part of BCB and these characters. It gives us nothing new, and it’s a chapter that I feel is just a waste of time. We already knew the things it brings up, and what we didn’t know, we could easily infer. Not to mention that its placement before December, muddles the motivation of Lucy’s suicide attempt if not exposes a missed opportunity because it would’ve been a lot more interesting and moving to have Lucy think about her friends outside of Mike before jumping, and we see there that she has that mistrust in them. But nope, that’s not what we get and this chapter does absolutely nothing except tell the audience, “Hey! Lucy was almost raped and it’s fucked up! We didn’t take the time to explore this, and establish her feelings before (even in times after this flashback supposedly takes place) so we’re going to bring it up now! And it’s a flashback so we can say it was there the entire time! But in reality, we just didn’t want to dive into it back then, but we’re gonna bring it back in now!” And hey, why not recycle an entire storyline that you did before and change next to nothing. Because that’s super creative.
I give this chapter a hollow 2/10 I’ll give it an extra point because the nightmare sequence was actually well done. I liked Taeshi’s use of vertical paneling and experimenting with the webcomic style in that way, and it was done very effectively. However, that doesn’t change that fact that it was nothing but shallow shock value in my eyes.
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Content Creator Interview #5
Welcome back again folks! This week in our fifth interview @vermofftiss chats to @mizjoely about her love of lists, her fantasy season five finale, and reveals the truth about who really writes her stories...
Hi, @mizjoely here, chatting with @vermofftiss about my sherlolly writing and fandom experiences, and answering some questions submitted by a few other folks. I’ve been involved in fandom in one way or another since the early 1980s, which is also when I started writing fanfiction - for classic Doctor Who and Star Trek in its various incarnations.
@vermofftiss here, putting forward the aforementioned questions. I’ll also be trying to weasel some advice out of @mizjoely that I can use for my own writing, which has been a casual ongoing thing since I published my first sherlolly fic in 2014.
Vermofftiss: I think our first encounter was in the Sherlollychat in the fall of 2014, around the time I got onto AO3. Which means series 3 was five years ago. How does it feel knowing that series 4 was already two years ago? What’s changed in the time since it aired?
Mizjoely: Oh, I miss the sherlollychat, or at least I did until Channy came up with the discord version! It’s hard to fathom that so much time has passed since I joined the fandom! (I became active on tumblr in November 2013 after discovering Sherlolly earlier that same year, btw.) Series 3 was five years ago. Series 4 was two years ago. Crazy!
As for what’s changed since then, I’d have to say one positive thing is that the fandom wank has calmed way the hell down since S4…. Another change that I’ve seen is probably common to all fandoms over time - new writers and content creators have joined the fandom while (sadly) many others have moved on to other fandoms. Of course, that’s to be expected when your show is essentially over, but it’s still kind of sad to lose folks completely to other fandoms.
V: Which series was your favourite to play with as a writer? When did you really get into writing Sherlolly?
M: I would have to say Series 4 has definitely been a great series to write for - so much angst! The I love you! Mary Watson’s very sad death, Rosie Watson becoming a character, Mrs. Hudson showing us what a badass she is, and of course Eurus Holmes entering the picture. We might not have gotten as much Molly Hooper as we wanted, but the scenes we did get with her were tremendous and gave so much inspiration to me and many other writers.
I really got into Sherlolly as a ship after seeing TRF, as I’m sure is true with many folks - especially the “what do you need” scene. And it was so much fun to dive into the possibilities of life after Sherlock’s ‘death’ between Series 2 and 3, I consider that a real golden age of Sherlolly writing. My first published Sherlock/Sherlolly fic was “Conversations With A Dead Detective”, set Post Reichenbach, which according to fanfiction.net I published on 04/11/13 (so I’m nearly at my five year Sherlolly- versary, woo hoo!).
A quick look at my spreadsheet (don’t judge me, I love my lists) shows that I wrote or at least started 37 fics that year (one of which I’m still working on, yikes! - The World As We Know It, a vamp!lock fic). I’m currently sitting at almost 500 fics for Sherlolly, which still amazes me, that I could be that inspired by a pair of fictional characters! (For comparison, my second most prolific fandom is Doctor Who, for whom I wrote a total of 25 stories over a period of 20 years. And of those 25, only about a dozen were for my main ship, Five/Tegan).
V: A couple of questions from @ohaine -
1) Based on the sheer volume of your work, I have this theory that you’re actually some sort of artistic collective rather than just one person, please tell me I’m right!
M: You have discovered my secret: I'm actually four raccoons in a trenchcoat! Seriously though, until I was bitten by the Sherlolly bug, my output was much, much lower, even though I've been writing fanfics since the early 1980s. For example, I love the Zutara ship for Avatar: Last Airbender, but I only wrote three fics for that. I wrote about 25 fics for Doctor Who, and about the same amount for the various Star Treks (not including Khanolly). Nothing set my writing muse afire like Sherlolly, and I doubt anything ever will again.
and, 2) You write a lot of AUs, and I’m wondering what inspires them?
M: Considering that I started off as a strictly Canon Universe/Canon Compliant writer in all of my other fandoms, it still seems funny to me how much I enjoy writing and reading AUs now. I started reading them after finally running out of canon compliant fics to read and discovering how much fun it was to transplant the characters into a different universe. And that, of course, made me think about what sort of AUs I could fit Molly and Sherlock into.
In fact, the very first BBC Sherlock story I started to write (never finished or posted) was an AU because I was nervous about trying to write Sherlock and figured no one would complain too much about him being OOC if it was a fantasy setting. (I ended up taking the plunge on a canon universe post Reichenbach fic and posted that and a lot of other canon universe fics before returning to AUs.)
Wait, that doesn't answer the question! What inspires them? The same things that inspire all my writing: wanting to read a specific kind of fic and not being able to find it; fics that other authors have written that make me itch to put my own spin on the idea; dreams; books I've read or movies or TV shows I've watched...inspiration is everywhere when you really, really, really love a ship. (Gawd that's cheesy but it's true - no love, no writing fanfic, period end of paragraph.)
V: This past spring I finally got the nerve to start working on my first proper AU (not CC, CU, or UA) after sitting on the idea for about 3 years. Have you ever had to wait to be “ready” to start working on a concept? How much do you need to know about a project to get going on it?
M: I have absolutely had to wait to be ready to start working on a concept. My very first attempt at a Sherlolly fic (never finished or published) was going to be an AU because I was so intimidated by the idea of writing Sherlock Holmes in the canon universe set up by Moffat & Gatiss. I was terrified I wouldn’t get his voice right, that he would be too OOC for folks, that I wouldn’t be able to make him clever enough or that I’d mess things up a dozen different ways. So I started writing the AU instead, and in doing so (over a course of several months), I finally realized that no, I wanted to start off in the canon universe. Just trying to write him at all, in any setting, made me a little less intimidated by him. But I might never have written anything if I hadn’t started that abandoned AU. (And I look forward to seeing your AU when you’re ready to post it!)
V: Does reader feedback ever impact the plots of your stories or the building of your AUs?
M: It absolutely can, especially when someone leaves a comment that makes me think about my story in a different light. I won’t go so far as to say comments have caused me to redo anything on a larger scale (such as change the ending) but certainly I’ve thrown things into the fic or expanded on ideas expressed in a comment to make the story that much richer.
That’s one of the best things about being active in fandom - the interactions between readers and writers. Of course, the reverse can also be true - I remember needing a LOT of fan-friend coddling when some folks were unhappy with the ending of my story ‘Abandoned’ (i.e., my Molly let my Sherlock get off too easily). But you have to have thick skin to be a creator, and remember that not everyone likes the same things. And you also have to be able to say yes, I could have done this better, or if I had to do it over I’d do it differently. It’s all part of the creative process.
V: Are there any scenes or aspects that were cut from a story that you regretted leaving out at the end?
M: Not really. Most things that I cut have been vetted by my betas (shout-out to ALL betas for being willing to help you make your story better!) and jettisoning those things has always made my stories better. (Plus I keep a folder of scraps that got cut and periodically review those scraps to see if I might be able to salvage them.)
V: On top of being one of the better-known Sherlolly writers in the tag, you’re also the single person behind the Sherlollbrary. As much as I love to organize my life and everything else I can get my hands on, that’s not something I think I’d ever actually want to do. So what made you decide to start cataloguing Sherlolly fics?
M: My love of lists. Seriously, that’s it. I love making lists of things - like, how many stories did I write in 2013 for Sherlolly (37, as you now know!), how many one-shots have I written vs. multi-chapters, how many were prompts...and then I started seeing people doing lists of various tropes. The one that made me decided to start my Sherlollilists side blog was one put together for Sherlolly omegaverse stories. As more and more lists were created, edited, and added (I’m currently at 140 official lists, with more than a dozen unofficial lists), I decided it would nice to organize them all (not realizing quite what I was getting into!) as one spreadsheet, with other tropes and tags and keywords for folks to help narrow down their searches. It always give me a little thrill when I open the library and see folks are browsing, so I like to think it’s a useful tool (although I am looking forward to finishing it someday!)
@writingwife-83 asked: You work tirelessly to organize all the multitude of writing this ship produces, but how do you feel that affects you as a writer? Does it make you less interested in writing your own fics? Or does it tend to help get the wheels turning and inspire you?
M: I have to admit, sometimes curating the lists can completely put me off writing, simply due to feeling oversaturated. This is especially true when I am reading or skimming over fics that are, shall we say, not the best of the bunch. Or the times when I'm just pushing myself even if I'm not really enthusiastic about doing it. Those times, I've learned to just step back, which is why sometimes the lists don't get updated very quickly.
On the other hand, rereading a favorite or a forgotten gem can really get my creative juices flowing. At times like that, I fall back in love with the ship and the fandom all over again.
V: When you’re stuck with writer’s block or just a lack of motivation, does it help you more to reread an old fave or to go back through some of your own works? Have you noticed your style has changed much?
M: It does help, absolutely. It reminds me why I love this ship so much, and helps me reconnect with others in the fandom. People think of reading as passive and writing as solitary, but to me it’s an interactive process. Reading great fics, new can old, helps feed your creativity. And nowadays the internet helps so much as well - there are awesome resources and fandom spaces to talk to other folks about their works and your own, reminding you that you’re not creating in a vacuum. (And I REALLY love the cheerleading section of the Sherlolly Discord site. That can help unstick my creativity like nobody’s business!)
As for my style changing - yeah, it definitely has. I feel like my writing has become more streamlined and less clunky since I first started. I still do a lot of semicolon abuse but at this point I’ve decided that’s just my style and will likely never change.
Thanks for the excellent questions and for letting me ramble on!
V: I’m sure we can do a lot more rambling if left on the trail. How about one last one: In the currently hypothetical series 5, how would you continue the story from where it left off?
M: Oooh, good one! If I was in charge we would see that Sherlock and Molly are continuing their relationship, culminating with a wedding at the end of the third episode. But since I’m not in charge, I’m thinking that Mofftiss would give us some subtle hints, like John casually mentioning to Sherlock that he and Rosie can’t join ‘them’ for dinner that night for whatever reason. And maybe some small changes to 221B to show hints that someone else spends time there other than Sherlock and the Watsons - a cherry patterned pillow, perhaps? A Bart’s ID card with a woman’s picture to show that no, it isn’t one Sherlock nicked to get access to a place he otherwise couldn’t get to? A woman’s coat hanging next to Sherlock’s? Something like that. And some private smiles between Sherlock and Molly, little things like that. Enough to give us hope but not enough to give us proof! They do like to tease that way!
Non-shipwise, I think Eurus would make a return because come on, how do you leave a character like that catatonic? I also think they would return to ACD canon to revise a few more cases for the modern age, and maybe (maybe!) have John start dating again (especially if they’re so married to canon that they killed Mary off - since John seems to have been married at least twice, they would probably explore that option).
I know, that last part is a bit vague but honestly? I hope they surprise the hell out of us in a good way if we ever get that fifth series!
Next Week, Friday March 22nd, @ashockinglackofsatin talks to @sunken-standard
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Guardians of the Galaxy: Part 12 (Peter Quill x Reader)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11
A/N: Sup gang, here is the final part to my Guardians of the Galaxy series! Stay tuned because the story continues in my next series for Guardians of the Galaxy Volume Two. I’m super excited to write that one. Hope you guys like how I concluded this and are looking forward to what’s next!
Warnings: swearing, fluff, angsty argument, slow burn :)
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Several days had passed since The Guardians of the Galaxy retreated from the scene of the battle. The civilians of Xandar and the Nova Corp began to clean up the planet, removing debris, dirt, and destroyed ships. It will take a long time to rebuild the planet Ronan tried to wipe out, but they will be able to do it. In exchange for your help in defeating Ronan and assisting in the city's reconstruction, the Nova Corp allowed you to stay with them for as long as you need. The first night was great because you got cleaned up, washing the trauma of the fight off of you and several doctors tended to all of your injuries. Life became pretty normal after settling in because you were able to buy new clothes and items that were never replaced after your ship was destroyed. You don't know how long you'll be at the Nova Corp for or where you'll go afterward, but it's good to have a stable home for now. It's especially good to be with Peter and the rest of the Guardians, even though you all miss Groot terribly. Rocket has even been carrying around a potted plant with one of Groot's remaining branches. He hasn't been himself lately but you can tell he is grateful to have the rest of his new friends by his side for support.
A few more days go by and the five of you are summoned to the Nova Corp main office. There, you meet Peter and Gamora who stand beside Corpsman Dey and Nova Prime looking at a hologram of a male figure. You enter the room intrigued by what's going on.
"How would you even know this?" Peter asks the Nova officers. Oh, they are examining Peter. The hologram of him seems irregular or different and you hope everything is okay.
"When we arrested you, we noticed an anomaly in your nervous system, so we had it checked out," Dey says.
"I'm not Terran?"
He's not Terran?
"You are half Terran," Nova Prime answers to your relief. "Your mother was of Earth...your father, well, he's something very ancient we've never seen here before."
"If you aren't completely Terran and you're something else that's unknown," you wonder. "Is that why you were able to hold the Infinity Stone?"
"That could be why he was able to hole the Stone or as long as he did," Gamora responds.
"Exactly."
Suddenly, the elevator doors slide open, pulling you from your thoughts on what power Peter could possess. Drax and Rocket enter and Nova Prime immediately goes over to them and groups all of you together. "Your friends have arrived," she announces. "On behalf of the Nova Corp, we'd like to express our profound gratitude for your help in saving Xandar. If you will follow Denarian Dey, he has something to show you."
"Thank you, Nova Prime," Peter discloses, following Dey.
You nod and express your gratitude as well. "Thank you so much, for everything you've done for us." You jog to catch up, walking behind Gamora and Drax.
"Your wife and child shall rest well knowing that you have avenged them," Gamora tells him.
"Yes, of course, Ronan was only a puppet. It's really Thanos I need to kill."
As Drax walks beyond the two of you, you both exchange glances of exasperation. Well, that will certainly be a new adventure. But, you are not turning down the idea of taking down Thanos.
On the balcony, the five of you stand before a beautiful ship. It replicates the Milano but it's clearly updated and has a shiny, new look. It is also much bigger and is able to home a group of people as opposed to one, lone Ravager.
"We tried to keep it as close to the original as possible. We salvaged as much as we could," Dey says.
"Wow." Peter stares at the Milano in awe. He is at a loss for words. "I...thank you."
"This is amazing!" you exclaim. "You guys really outdid yourself. Thank you so much."
Dey looks at all of the Guardians. "I have a family. They're alive because of you. Your criminal records have also been expunged. However, I have to warn you against breaking any laws in the future." The five of you nod to him in gratitude.
"Question," Rocket states. "What if I see something that I want to take, and it belongs to someone else?"
"You will be arrested."
"But what if I want it more than the person who has it?"
"It's still illegal."
"That doesn't follow. No, I want it more, sir. Do you understand?" You snicker at the raccoon. Gamora takes him and pushes him along toward the ship, saving Dey from a bombardment of Rocket's jokes and questions. "What are you laughing at? What? I can't have a discussion with this gentleman?"
"What if someone does something irksome and I decide to remove his spine?" Drax asks seriously.
"That's...that's actually murder, it's one of the worst crimes of all. So...also illegal." Drax just shakes his head in response, knowing he will damn well kill someone if he has to. You follow him slowly, hoping Peter will catch up to you.
Behind you, he pats Dey on the back. "They'll be fine, Dey. I'm gonna keep an eye on em."
"You?"
"Yeah, me."
With that, he saunters up to you. You turn to him and smile. "I guess I'm stuck here with you assholes then, huh?"
He chuckles, taking your arm and leading you into the Milano. "I owed you a ship, remember? Now you have one." He winks and then disappears into his quarters.
You do the same and go check out your new room. It's identical to everyone else's, but the closet is filled with the clothes that you gathered while staying at the Nova Corp. Your new fashion sense consists of tight spacesuits that Peter can gawk at you in. You also received new pajamas and underwear and everything you need to live a happy life here on the Milano as a Guardian of the Galaxy. Perhaps there are a few of Peter's shirts and boxers in your room, some that you may have stolen over the course of your stay at the Nova Corp. Peter knows very well where his missing clothes have gone and he knows just how to retrieve them back from you, but there would be another occasion for that.
You drag your hand along the wall and think about the memories you'll make. You make a mental note to yourself to find that illegal shop where you can buy items from Terra so you can replace your '80s movie posters and band posters that once covered the walls on your ship. You also may check and see if you can purchase Footloose, that way you and Peter can sit down and educate Gamora.
You leave your room and head toward the common area, passing Peter's quarters on the way. You linger slightly and spot him sitting on the bed, fidgeting with the present box from a couple days ago.
"Y/N?" he calls out to you.
You enter his room and lean against the doorframe. "Hmm?"
"Can I ask you somethin'?"
"Of course," you reply, making your way to his bed and taking a seat next to him.
"Do you ever think about going back?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like, returnin' to Terra?"
"I've thought about it a few times after escaping from Thanos, but not really," you answer truthfully. "I was so young when I was taken, not really understanding Earth itself yet. Space is truly the only thing I've ever known. I also think it's because I know my family is there. I know they must miss me and assume the worst after I've been gone so long. I miss them too, so much. There are so many people I never got to see again. I'm sure my parents were worried sick after I was taken, thinking I was kidnapped or ran away...but after twenty-something years they probably think I'm dead and was just never found, you know? That's hard to go back to."
"But, if you miss them, and you know they miss you, why wouldn't you go back?"
You sigh, looking at the ground. "I'm afraid that they'd want me to stay."
"And you wouldn't wanna stay?"
"No, because I know that deep down I'd always miss exploring space. Plus, I have a new family now, one that I could never leave."
Peter takes your hand. "I don't want to go back either. But it's always been because I never wanted to live on Earth without my mother being there. I don't want to know what the world is like without her."
You graze his large, warm hand with your thumb, caressing it soothingly. "Peter..."
"Now it's because I never want to leave you," he confesses.
You rest your head on his shoulder and use your free hand to rub circles on his back. The two of you stare down at the box that Peter has been holding, turning it over and over in his hand. "What is that?" you ask.
"It's the last thing my mother gave to me after she died."
"You never opened it?"
"No, but I think I'm finally ready to open it."
You remove your hand from his and sit up. "Do you want me to go? I should probably leave you alone for this." He turns to you, his green eyes boring into yours.
"Stay."
You nod and resume your previous position to comfort him.
"Always."
Peter tears at the old, wrapping paper and removes a letter. You don't read it but he looks over the words so thoughtfully and carefully so you know it must mean so much to him. You notice his eyes swell up with tears and you lean closer into him for support. In his hand rests a new mixtape titled "Awesome Mix Vol. 2″ which is most likely composed of more songs that have so much meaning to Peter.
"Your mother seems like a wonderful person," you state, trying to find the right words to cheer him up.
"She was...and she would've loved you."
"Really?" you ask gleefully.
He chuckles. "Yeah, because you're exactly like me."
You laugh too. "Peter..." you get serious now and stare into his eyes once again. "...she would be so proud of you."
He pulls you into a tight hug, breaking any space there was between you two. "Thank you, Y/N, thank you so much."
"Hey," you say, patting his back so he pulls away. "Do you want to listen to it?"
He grins brightly. "Hell yeah."
You both get up and head for the common area where Gamora, Drax, and Rocket are hanging out. You take the tape from Peter and pop it into the speaker of the ship. It was really cool of Nova Corp to include that, knowing it will be quite useful to you and Peter. Once he presses play, a familiar beat you recognize from one of your own tapes echoes throughout the ship. The first song on the tape is "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell, a true classic. His mom really did have good taste.
"Listen, baby,
Ain't no mountain high,
Ain't no valley low,
Ain't no river wide enough baby,"
"I love this song!" you yell.
"Of course you do," Peter beams. He smirks at you, extending a hand. "May I have this dance?"
You take his hand and smirk right back. "Obviously," you scoff. He spins you around and then pulls you into him, the two of you swaying to the rhythm.
"If you need me, call me,
No matter where you are,
No matter how far,
Don't worry baby,
Just call my name,
I'll be there in a hurry,
You don't have to worry,"
"Get a room!" Rocket hollers, shaking his head in disgust. "Humies, man, always being weird." As he heads over to the flight deck, you can't help but notice him tapping his foot as he waltzes to his seat.
You and Peter ignore his remark and it doesn't take long for you both to begin singing loudly and very off-key, him taking the man's lyrics and you taking the woman's. It's fun, and you know you'll never need words to cheer Peter up if there is music that can easily do the job.
"Cause baby there ain't no mountain high enough,
Ain't no valley low enough,
Ain't no river wide enough,
To keep me from getting to you babe,"
Gamora strides past the both of you, nodding her head and tapping her foot to the beat. You gasp. "Gamora likes it!"
"The melody is pleasant," she confesses, continuing to walk to the flight deck as well.
It brings you so much joy to finally see your sister happy and free from the strains of Thanos. As young kids, Gamora and Nebula felt like the only family you were ever going to have out in space. The three of you trained together for years, learning how to fight, dominate, and work hard to be powerful. It was exhausting. Thanos owned you and your sisters. Watching Gamora smile alongside you and your new family filled your heart with so much happiness. There will be so many pleasant memories to make in the days ahead.
"Remember the day I set you free,
I told you, you could always count on me, darling,
From that day on, I made a vow,
I'll be there when you want me,
Some way, somehow,"
You and Peter continue dancing to the music playfully. He presses himself really close to you. "I just remembered I saved your life the other day, along with the entire galaxy. So, I believe you owe me somethin'," he whispers in your ear seductively.
"You definitely did not just remember that."
"Well, you left me kissless after the battle against Ronan," he states. "But I recall you tellin' me to let you do whatever you wanna do to me. You called me Star-Lord. You begged."
You scoff, widening your eyes at the man. "I did no such thing!"
"Hey," Peter whispers. "A promise is a promise, sweetheart. I don't make the rules."
"I never promised anything."
Peter leans his head back with an annoyed groan. He usually lives for the flirty banter, but he's been craving your lips on his for so long that he is growing impatient. "Would you just shut up and kiss me already?"
"Cause baby there ain't no mountain high enough,
Ain't no valley low enough,
Ain't no river wide enough,
To keep me from getting to you babe,"
As the music plays, your singing slows and you lean into him, staring at his lips. He prepares himself for a totally hot makeout session with you, placing his hands on your hips. But, you give him a peck on the cheek and pull away.
"Hey! What the hell?" he shouts.
"I owed you a kiss, remember?" you giggle. "Now you got one!"
You start to skip away from Peter but you feel a strong grip on your wrist, pulling you back to him. There is no space left between the two of you, your body flush against his. You're breathless. His eyes trace over every detail on your face until he finally lands on your lips. Instantly, he kisses you. It's rough, hungry, and very much needed. The kiss deepens as Peter manages to pull you closer to him, one hand trailing down your back and the other wrapping around your neck and grazing your jawline. After a few moments, his lips slowly and reluctantly retreat from yours. You lean in, eyes fluttering, needing more. Peter smirks with delight.
"I kinda meant somethin' like that."
"Oh no, darling,
No wind,
No rain,
Or winters cold can stop me, baby,
Nah nah baby,
Cause you are my goal,
If you're ever in trouble,
I'll be there on the double,
Just send for me, oh baby, ha,"
You stare into Peter's bright, green eyes, searching for the right words to express how you feel. He continues to stare at you with a soft, loving smile with his hand resting warmly on the side of your face. Ever since you met the legendary outlaw, you've been desperately attracted to him, your feelings growing deeper and deeper with every mere interaction. Whenever Peter defended you or swooped in to save your life, you felt yourself on the brink of falling in love. Yet, is that what you wanted? To be in love with a playboy? A man who most women knew to avoid?
"Peter," you mumble, the eye contact faltering as your heartbeat quickens. "We can't do this."
"Why not?" Peter asks gently, caressing your face sweetly. "You'd be lyin' if you said you didn't like me, sweetheart."
"You have a reputation," you sigh, pulling away from Peter as you push a hand through your hair. The possibility of Peter using you for sex or being caught with another woman would destroy you, and you decide that you're better off letting him go. "There have been too many women in the past. You've never been in a real relationship, Peter. You sleep with women and kick them to the curb the very next morning. I witnessed it with Bereet! I really care about you, but I also care about myself. I just...I can't get hurt."
Peter takes in your words seriously, walking toward you and encompassing your hand in his own. "I could never hurt you, Y/N. I really want to give this a try."
"We can't!"
"Are you afraid that I'll leave you and choose someone else or somethin'? Are you nervous I'll flirt with someone else? Huh? Or are you just scared of commitment?" Peter raises his voice. "Cause that's ridiculous, Y/N. Ever since we first met I've only been able to picture myself with you. I only want you and I will only ever want you...no one else."
You take a deep breath, unsure if you can trust him. "Peter..."
"At least let me prove myself to you," Peter mutters, placing both of his hands at your sides and searching for your gaze. You look up at him. "Give me some time to show you how badly I want this. I promise I can change."
"Fine," you agree, kindly smiling at him. He returns your grin with a flirtatious smirk, quickly back to his seductive antics. Silently, you wish to yourself that he changes his womanizing ways and commits himself to you. You vow to restrain yourself from giving in to him until he does. "For now...you had your kiss of gratitude to hold you over."
My love is alive,
Way down in my heart,
Although we are miles apart,
If you ever need a helping hand,
I'll be there on the double,
Just as fast as I can,"
You disperse from Peter and make your way over to the flight deck, taking a seat next to your friends. It's not long before Peter follows, standing behind your seat and leaning in close to your ear. "I thought I would at least get to pick where the kiss was..." You smack him playfully and he chuckles, taking his place at the pilot's seat.
Next to him, Rocket's plant suddenly grows into a small being. It opens it's eyes and yawns, swaying slightly back forth. Rocket looks down at it in awe, starting to tear up from joy. It resembles a little Groot, and you know the Guardians just regained an old member.
You pat Rocket on the head gently, comforting him. He looks up at you with glossy eyes and a kind smile. The raccoon was certainly an unlikely friend, but one you were very glad to have made. He'll never admit it, but you're his favorite on the team.
"Don't you know that there,
Ain't no mountain high enough,
Ain't no valley low enough,
Ain't no river wide enough,
To keep me from getting to you babe."
"So, what should we do next?" Peter asks the crew. "Something good? Something bad? A bit of both?"
"We'll follow your lead...Star-Lord," you suggest, knowing that you are driving him crazy by calling him that.
A goofy grin creeps up to his lips. "Bit of both!"
With that, he takes off steering you in a random direction to god knows what destination. You don't know where things are going to go with Peter, but there isn't a doubt in your mind that you like him. He's a dorky goofball, but a super hot, dorky goofball that knows how to flirt and make you blush like a damn fool. Maybe he's a player....but maybe he can change for you. You don't know yet. All you know right now is that you have a family and a home.
You're a Guardian of the Galaxy, and that is pretty fucking cool.
Guardians of the Galaxy Volume Two: Part One: Here
#write#writing#writers#fiction#fanfiction#imagines#fluff#angst#smut#mcu#marvel#marvel fanfiction#marvel imagines#avengers#avengers x reader#guardians of the galaxy#guardians of the galaxy x reader#gotg fic#gotg imagine#peter quill#peter quill x reader#peter quill smut#star lord#star lord x reader#star lord smut#peter parker#peter parker x reader#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#bucky barnes
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Hidden in Plain Sight
Who is ready for a week of fanfiction about my two favorite men?!
Not me 8D! Because despite having six months to prepare two of the days are still not finished (so be forewarned Day 2 and 4 may not be up on time). But, all the same, I’m determined and excited to finish off an entire week for once! So, let’s jump right in!
Day 1 – Long Distance @taiqrowweek
Summary: When Tai receives a package in the mail from his old academy, he finds there’s an unexpected gift inside from someone else entirely. [Pre-Volume 2]
Rating: K
Ao3 Link: Hidden in Plain Sight
~
The door creaked on its hinges and immediately the sound of excited yips and a jangle of tags greeted Tai in the form of thirty pounds of tiny dog. He juggled the package he carried under one arm to lean down, Zwei’s ears flopping about as he gave him a pet. “Hey there pupster. Sorry I’m late. Did you already eat?” When his answer was only a cold nose nuzzling into his palm rather than a mad dash for the kitchen, he took that as a yes.
Tai was never going to figure out how he learned how to use the can opener.
He kicked the door closed with his heel, dropping his mail on the table as he passed. Zwei started sniffing intently at the box. “Sorry bud, it’s not from the girls.” There was a growly huff of disappointment.
Tai chuckled, stretching his arms over his head as he headed for the kitchen to scrounge around for a dinner of his own. The only sound for the next few minutes was of him, clattering around in the kitchen and the breeze in the trees outside, the silence of the rest of the home leaving a solemn weight to the air. Two months, and he still wasn’t quite used to no longer hearing the various noises of the girls running down the stairs or yelling at each other in the living room as they played the newest fighter game or the faint noise of their laughter drifting from the floor above.
He was immensely proud of them both: of his eldest, who had gotten an acceptance letter well before entrance exams, and of his youngest, who had been allowed to skip two years ahead. Though, he had always known ever since he watched Yang throw down Qrow when she was only seven and Ruby build her first model of Crescent Rose at only ten, that both his girls had immeasurable talent and the drive to pursue their dreams. As a father, he could only encourage them to embrace that potential and ambition, aware that one day he was going to see them grow into the extraordinary huntresses they always wanted to be.
Still, it didn’t mean that watching them get on that airship to Beacon wasn’t one of the hardest days of his life.
It was even harder to say those goodbyes alone and return into the near empty home, more still and lonely then it had ever been.
At least, Tai thought as he sat on the couch with his plate of pasta and reached for the remote, I don’t have to fight for the TV anymore.
He turned it on, the television already on his favorite channel, and set the remote aside. He balanced his plate in one hand, reaching down to curl his other arm around his dog, hefting him up beside him. They got comfortable, Zwei nestling up against his side while Tai kicked off his shoes and rested his feet on the table. “Oh gods, I remember this one,” He said as the sitcom’s laugh track played after one of Starla’s typical neurotic-induced jokes. “This is the one where Annie and Davy get the male nanny and everyone treats him like he’s gay.”
The corgi gave a slight growl.
“I know, right?” He laughed, twisting his chopsticks around some noodles.
They watched the rest of the episode, infuriating as it was, and the next that played for the power hour, plus one of All Our Life. By the time the intro to Collide started playing, the sky outside had turned dark and Tai was starting to feel the drag of exhaustion trying to pull his eyelids down and knew it was time to call it a night. He shut off the TV, getting to his feet. Zwei, who had rolled onto his back to take a nap, awoke and wiggled his paws a bit. Tai rubbed his belly before helping him on the ground floor so he could run out the doggy door. He wandered back into the kitchen to clean up the dishes and by the time he was done, Zwei was back inside, settling onto his doggy bed. It seemed he was going to stay down here tonight.
“Night buddy.” He said, giving his pet a few more affectionate pats, before picking up the package and heading upstairs.
He set the box on his bed and headed into the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth. He reemerged to slip into some comfortable sleep shorts, tousling his hair one more time with the towel before tossing it onto the floor. He sat down on his bed, picking up the package and setting it in his lap. There was no return address, but he knew who it was from. He pulled off the tape, only finding two items inside. The first was a palm-sized black plastic case with no distinguishable marks on it. The other was a note that simply read:
I have a feeling you may not be in Vale anymore
Tai rolled his eyes. He had to wonder where his old headmaster’s sense of humor came from. “Very funny, Oz.” He set the scripted letter aside, before pulling out the case next, dropping the cardboard box onto the floor. Popping the top open, he eyed the chip that rested atop cotton padding. There was a picture of a gear etched on its tiny surface. The last time he had seen it had been fourteen years ago. He carefully fished it out, holding it delicately between his fingers. For what it held on it, it was extremely unimpressive looking.
He reached for his nightstand, pulling over his Scroll DEX.
And hesitated.
Did he really want to do this again?
Tai pondered the question, staring at his reflection in the transparent screen. What stared back was a man who was nearly two decades older, age lines starting to show and a paleness to his hair that had once been so vibrant. While he had kept in shape over all these years and had fought the occasional Grimm around the perimeter or when enlisted by Patch’s call-to-duty system to deal with bigger threats, he knew it wouldn’t compare to what he was going to face if he joined Ozpin’s inner circle once more.
If you didn’t want to, then why did you call at all? The thought whispered at the back of his mind, the answer already there.
Somewhere within himself, there was still that young orphan boy in him that grew up wanting to protect society from hurting like he once did. To shelter those wishes for peace and safety, knowing all too well the pain it caused when they went unanswered. So, he’d return to this underground war waging out of sight from the rest of society’s eyes so that next generation didn’t have to.
He’d return, because that’s what a Huntsman does.
The screen lit up as Tai slipped the chip into the device. It read ‘Initializing’, beginning a percentage counter that haltingly climbed in number. Once it finished, it would have all his old data on it as well as any new intel, any of his current objectives and secure, untraceable connections with the rest of the association. Reading over everything could wait until morning. He hooked the phone to the charger and set it on the nightstand, before shutting off the lamp and climbing into bed.
He was just drifting into sleep when a sudden jingle jerked him back. He stared in confusion at the blue-tinted light that brightened the ceiling, before rolling onto his side and pulling his Scroll over to read the banner on the lock screen:
216 messages from A Dumb Bird
“What?” He whispered into the night air, sitting up slightly. He pressed in his thumbprint and swiped over the screen, opening up into the messaging app which started him at the most recent entry. It was dated today, two hours ago. It was a short message, only two words:
‘Miss you’
The words themselves made a pleasant buzz hum underneath his skin. The one before it was dated three weeks ago, well after midnight. It was a picture of five puppies in a box.
‘Someone’s selling these droolers for five lien. Think yours needs a friend?’
Tai shook his head, scrolling slowly at first but faster as the dates and messages swam by. A few more weeks. Four months. Ten months. A year. Two years.
He finally got to the first message of the 216 he had been sent, all the way back seven years ago when Qrow had decided the girls were old enough and they were both steady enough for him to quit teaching and work missions for Ozpin again. Overwhelmed by emotion, Tai had to set the Scroll aside, burying his head in his pillow.
“Listen up!” Summer’s ever-sweet lilt was as clear as ever, even in his memory. “I want all of us to make a promise that on these missions, when we get to places that have reception, all of us will send messages to one another to let us know we’re okay. I don’t care if it’s a text, a video or a picture, just send something.”
Qrow knew Tai couldn’t get these messages to this phone without the chip. Hell, he even sent messages or called him on their normal Scroll all the time. And yet, all these years and he still…
He took a breath, before pulling the Scroll over again and started to read each and every one. Some barely said much except that he’d made it to town or when he’d be heading back. There were a few pictures; a collection of mini-whiskey shots found in a hotel room or a big dragon statue with a tiny plastic one the man had balanced on its nose just to tease him about ‘size comparison’. There was even a video in which Qrow, slightly tipsy speech filtering through with mirth, pointed the camera at a normal crow and started to talk about how he “found himself after all these years”. A lot of it didn’t make sense, but Tai still chuckled and even watched it a second time.
It wasn’t until he got to the ones that he had received from three years ago and onwards that he noticed a subtle but still apparent shift to the messages – not to mention the quantity. Suddenly it wasn’t just a few shorts words, but full sentences about how Qrow was doing or what he was looking forward to when he got home. Snippets of how much he loved him or how he missed waking up beside him that Tai had to wonder if the other had sent here because he wasn’t feeling secure enough to send them to him for real. Over a dozen pictures now of various things, like a candy shop he thought the girls might like or a lightning bolt during a storm that lit up the whole sky (with a caption ‘you electrify me’ that had Tai nearly rolling with giddy laughter).
The one that hit the hardest was a video, the only other one in all the messages, that had been shot two years ago. The other huntsman must have been at an inn, because he was leaning against a headboard.
“So, hey.” Qrow started, running a hand along his hair. He often did it to look suave, but this time it only made him seem nervous. “I tried to make it somewhere in time but got held up on the field. You know how it is. So, guess I’m fashionably late.” He winked, but the act was quick to drop and he looked away. “I’m sorry. I wanted to at least call on the right day. I wanted to show you that… I’m here. That even if I’m across the world, I’m always here for you.” He chuckled, offering the camera a half-smile. “Guess I ain’t proving that very well if I’m missing our first anniversary, huh? I’ll try better next time.”
Tai remembered. He’d be lying to say he hadn’t been a little down about it when the day itself passed, but he never held it against Qrow – nor for the next two he also missed. He’d learned, both from being in the profession and exclusively dating those in the same job field, that sometimes the best one could do is just cherish what time you did get together. It was impossible to be a fulltime huntsman and still be able to make every special occasion; and while Tai knew he had a lot of faults, being selfish enough to think he was more important than the people his partner was risking his life to protect was not one of them.
So, when Qrow finally was able to call, it hadn’t mattered to him that it was a few weeks late because the gift of getting to hear his voice was one worth waiting for.
“I just,” The recording continued, the man fully turning back to the camera, “I wanted you to know that, this? You and me? It’s… been amazing. You’re, I mean,” He shook his head, laughing as he ran a hand over his blushing face; he looked unbelievably endearing. “Tai, man, why is this so hard? I’ve known you for years. Yet every time I try to just tell you how much you mean to me, I can’t seem to say anything decent. I’m going to call you soon and what the hell am I gonna say?”
Now that Tai would never forget – because it had been the first time Qrow said “I love you” aloud to him; and it had taken his breath away.
Now he found himself in the same position, as the man he found himself utterly captivated by, smile towards him and say, “I’m just, so happy, you know? Happier than I thought was actually possible. I never thought us being together would make that much of a difference but, it has. It really has.” He rubbed the back of his neck, bashfully adding, “Hopefully I can find a way to tell you that tomorrow.”
The video ended there.
Overwhelmed, Tai scrolled through the rest of the messages until he caught up, staring at the newest one that was now three hours old. He ran his thumb over the two simple words, his heart feeling ready to burst, and hurriedly typed a reply.
‘I love you so much.’
After a minute of no response, he started to go back up to reread again. He was just in the middle of admiring a shot of an old-fashioned air balloon hovering in the sky when his phone pinged and brought him back to the bottom.
‘Tai?’
‘Yeah. It’s me.’ He replied.
There was another lull, but not as long as the last before he replied, ‘Welcome back, you damn dragon.’ Tai smiled, knowing that’s what Qrow had him listed as in his Scroll. There was another ping.
‘I’ll give you five lien if you delete every message prior to these.’
‘No deal unless you’re going to use it to get me a puppy.’
‘Between you and Zwei, I can’t handle any more dogs in the house.’
“Oh my god Qrow!” Tai laughed aloud while writing ‘You charming jerk’ in return.
‘A charming jerk you love.’
The smile he wore was uncontainable. ‘Yeah, I do.’
‘This charming jerk loves you too.’
“Yeah.” Tai whispered, deliriously happy as he held his phone close, never wanting to let it go – or, more precisely, the person on the other end. “I know.”
~ A/N: For those wondering, the show Tai is watching is a reference to Friends and an actual episode that aired in later seasons.
The DEX in Scroll DEX stands for codex, which were oftentimes books filled with parchment paper (which is the same type of paper scrolls are generally made of). It can also stand for Deluxe.
Lastly, this story is mostly a headcanon, but it’s based off the idea the missions Tai starts taking during the duration of Volume 2 – that causes him to send Zwei to the girls – and again at the beginning of volume 3 are indeed for Ozpin rather than just typical Huntsman missions.
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