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papergirllife · 4 years ago

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Chapter 1

Synopsis:

You don’t know what it’s like to be free, to make your own choices, and live your own life. For your whole life, your parents have been treating you like a puppet on strings, controlling your life to every single detail, as well as ignoring the fact that you have feelings. Other times, when you disobey their wishes, or speak up about your own opinions, they bash you down with words, in other words, psychological abuse, has led you down the long winded road of depression and anxiety. What happens when you meet a man who’s willing to be your guide out of this terrible downpour? Would you give a shot at happily ever after?

Warnings:

big age gap (kinda?)

issues on anxiety

issues on depression (mild)

issues on parental abuse

smut (maybe)

Tag List: @etherealtyjaem (lmk if you wanna be on the list)

It has always been like this, being locked up in the study room so you could ‘study’ for hours end, or that’s what they think you’re doing. You studied in an elite academy with your smart cousins, only to have you graduating with average grades, which of course, earned you a harsh scolding from your parents. Now, you’re supposed to be studying business for university, even though you had zero interests in it, the subject is fine, it’s what you’re studying it for that irks you. Your family runs a business in Seoul, but from what you can see by secretly skimming through the files as well as the arguments behind shut doors with your aunts and uncles, things aren’t going as planned.

You don’t have many friends, nor a phone, they took it away from you when you wanted to go out with some friends, claiming that it’s a distraction that should be locked away. You felt like Rapunzel, locked away from the world, they don’t have any love for you, you’re quite sure they don’t, they had once slapped your face ten times when you had a boyfriend behind their backs, and you were 15 for god’s sake, along with other things that you rather not say, you don’t want to relive all those painful memories.

Sometimes you wished you could go back to the time when you were a child, when you were at your grandparents’ in the morning, her warm smile and loving eyes, when you didn’t know what laid ahead. You wish you hadn’t realised that you were being abused, you used to think what you went through was the same for other kids as well, until you talked about it with other people and scared them away from you. The painful memories sinking back in made the words in front of you blurry as you felt tears seeping in your eyes.

Depression.

It’s deemed as something ridiculous in your family, and that people who are suffering from it are weaklings and don’t deserve anything from this society.

‘Does that mean I’m weak?’

You never went to therapy nor took any medication for your mental illnesses, and recently the development of anxiety attacks are constantly putting you on edge. You have them at least once a week, sometimes you even had problem breathing, but you couldn’t tell anyone about it, nor anyone would ever listen to your cries of help.

“We’re going to help sell your uncle’s house this Saturday,” your mother said as she was folding the clothes.

“The mansion he recently bought?” you asked, confused as to why he would sell the mansion he was obsessed with just two months ago.

“Yes, he bought that without our permission back then, so now we need to sell it for funds, and you need to be there to entertain the potential buyers, give them a tour around the house and other enquiries. You have to direct them to us if you think they’re truly interested, it’s going to be an open house concept party,” cold, that’s how your mother sounded, her claims of putting family above everything else flying out of the window whenever her demands are not met.

“Okay, is there anything else?” you asked, hoping to be excused as soon as possible.

“No, you can continue your studies in the study room.”

That’s what basic communication is in your life, you tried talking about your interests, your opinions, but they either fall on deaf ears, or you would receive a lecture for having a ‘false perspective’. You’ve given up on talking to them about things that are going in on your life now, they don’t listen anyways.

The party is filled with old men with their muffin tops waddling around with a wine glass in hand and talking obnoxiously loud, obviously having too much money to go by, looking at how overly filled their bellies are.

You tried hiding away in the house, but your family kept pushing you out to talk to them. Their stares were not intimidating, no, but it made you feel uncomfortable as their gazes linger a bit too long on your legs or anywhere else, and the way they didn’t want to let go after they shook your hand, made your anxiety levels rise to the roof.

You would find random excuses to run away, like going to refill their glass or saying you need to use the loo, your heartbeat going as fast as your legs could take you away from them.

When you came back out from hiding for the 6th time, both your parents were rushing you to meet someone new.

“He’s a man of great fortune and power, so the chances of him buying this house is high. Don’t try to hide from this one, or you’ll get it when we get home,” your mother warned, her eyes side eying you with daggers.

Your mother’s threat made you sick inside, what are you to them? A scapegoat?

You weren’t paying attention to who or where was she pushing you to, but once you stopped, the man in front of you made your eyes as big as saucers.

‘How is a man like this doing here?’ you thought to yourself.

“Hello Mr Suh, we’re quite busy at the moment with other potential buyers. Why don’t we allow my daughter, Y/N, to show you around?” your mother said, her voice overly sweet, like day old cotton candy.

Once you were in front of him, your parents left. Leaving you helpless as your social anxiety kicks in, your eyes trained on his shoulder, eye contact, especially from this man, made you very nervous.

“C-can I give you a tour?’ you asked, hoping to ditch him halfway.

Johnny looks at the way your eyes avoid his, it wasn’t hard, given how tall he was, there’s just something so intriguing about you, so different from the girls that throw themselves at him with zero doubts.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Johnny,” Johnny introduced himself by bending down slightly, a friendly smile on his face, one that you can’t decipher whether he had similar intentions as those nasty old men had.

To say that the tour was horrible would’ve been an understatement, you kept stuttering under his piercing gaze, instead of looking at you like you were his next meal like other potential buyers, Johnny was genuinely listening to what you have to say. You didn’t think the house was any interesting, it was just a bunch of useless expensive things under one roof, like the movie room, the slides at the pool, the ‘mini’ bar. These things weren’t appealing to you, riches are overrated when it becomes too common, like your cousins and their different designs of Birkin bags, you weren’t exactly fond of their favourite alligator skinned ones as well.

Yet Johnny didn’t look at the cliche setting that you are currently presenting, instead his eyes are trained on yours, it wasn’t a scrutinizing gaze like the wives of those perverted men who stared down on you, nor anything that seems predatory, it only held calculation and observance. On the house? It doesn’t seem like it. On you? You can bet this whole house that he’s met women far more beautiful compared to a plain jane like you.

“T-that’s all for the tour, Mr Suh. Would you want me to direct you to my parents, if you’re interested?” you asked, hoping that you’d get to be alone again.

“Can you take me to the park nearby? I’d like to see the facilities available in this housing area,” he answered smoothly, as if he had calculated every little detail in his life.

You nodded wordlessly at his request, taking him to see the park nearby the house. It was a weird sight, having a man as tall as Johnny towering behind you.

“This is the park,” you pointed stupidly, cursing at yourself, obviously this is the park, anyone with eyes could tell.

Johnny inhaled the breath of fresh air this area offered, his shoulders not as tensed up after. A smile decorated his handsome face as he turned towards you.

“Let’s sit.”

Johnny directed you to the nearest park bench, his size taking up most of the bench, yet he scoots into himself as you sat down next to him, giving you personal space.

‘Does he think I’m going to lower the price of the house for him? I don’t even know how much they’re selling it for,’ you thought, thinking this man must be mad that an unimportant person like you could negotiate with him.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Y/N. I’m not interested in the house,” Johnny said, breaking the silence.

Your mom isn’t going to be pleased when she hears this, you thought as you bit at your bottom lip, thinking about how harsh is she going to react if she didn’t get a buyer out of this event.

“Thank you for taking your time for considering through out this-

“I’m interested in you.”

Did you hear that correctly or was your mind playing tricks on you?

You stared at Johnny as his hand comes close to your face, he wasn’t pulling you closer, instead his fingers reached out to gently graze the underside of your eyes.

“I can see what you’re hiding,” Johnny said solemnly, his eyes showing you pity.

You quickly took out your compact mirror out of your pocket, checking to see if you did a bad job on the concealer for your puffy eyes today, but it looked fine.

“I used to be involve in theater, and I’ve seen people covering unwanted marks or eye bags on their face many times. It’s not obvious to most people, don’t worry,” Johnny explained.

The touch of his fingertips on your face was filled with warmth, as well as his eyes when he looked at you now, if his eyes were honey you’ll be as addicted as Winnie the Pooh. His touch was quickly gone as it had came, his hand placed back into his lap as he stares ahead.

“I’m not going to assume anything, but from what I can see, I don’t think you deserve to be going through what you’re facing now. And as for your family’s company, it’s not going to last long even if they managed to sell this property out. You’re going to be in a much more disappointing situation when that happens, I’ve been in the business game my whole life, my predictions hardly go astray anymore,” Johnny said without a sliver of judgement, he was just laying out the cards for you to observe.

Johnny reaches for a card in his coat pocket and handed it to you, it was his business card.

“I can take you away from all this chaos raging among your family, if you can call it a family that is. I’ll be seeing you soon, Y/N,” Johnny said before standing up and walking away to the direction where his car awaits, his driver closing his door.

That was most definitely a statement.

#nct smut #nct fluff #nct #johnny suh #johnny smut #johnny fluff #seo young ho #nct 127 #nct dream #wayv

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thedistantstorm · 5 years ago

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Project Compass 15

Read along on AO3 Here

<< Previous Chapter << >> Next Chapter >>

This time: Vah’nya and Ezra meditate. Ivant and Ar’alani discuss what it means to be a warrior.

Next time: A moment of balance between Thrawn and Eli.

“He has been in his quarters for... days. That cannot be healthy,” The Admiral said after Thrass notified them that Ivant would not be joining them for the first meal of the day. Under her breath, she added, “Human or otherwise.”

Thrass rolled his eyes. “You do know he’s an adult, right? He can take care of himself.” Then, he added sarcastically, "It isn't as though he takes much - or any - time off. I wonder which one of you he learned that from…” Feigning an innocent glance between Ar’alani and Thrawn, he mused, “Or perhaps he just loves his work that much."

Further down the table, Ezra eyed the pale pink beverage Thrass was drinking, wondering if it too contained some kind of alcohol. He didn’t doubt it, first meal or not. Belatedly, he snuck a glance at Vah'nya, displeased that she had dragged him here for the proceedings. He suspected it would have been a far quieter and more comfortable meal out on the terrace with the rest of the Navigators.

“I’ve instructed my staff to bring him meals,” Thrass relented, fixing the Admiral with a helpless look. Ezra wondered briefly if he missed something the Admiral said, but that didn't seem to be the case. She was just fixing Thrawn's brother with her deadpan gaze as he said, “You know how he is when he’s onto something.”

"He knows his limits," Thrawn interjected mildly, drawing everyone's eyes but Vah'nya's. The eldest Navigator of the Chiss sipped a sweet smelling dark tea, listening politely but not engaging. She met Ezra's eyes and smiled behind her teacup. He had learned that she was not much of a morning person, which made her desire for them to be here even more confusing.

Thrass smirked, as if he knew something his brother did not. "You might find yourself surprised."

"You are a menace, Syndic," Ar'alani gestured to the Navigator and Jedi. "Tease him on your own time."

"Tease him about what?" Ezra asked innocently.

Vah'nya bit back a snort. She hid it well though, only earning the beginnings of a glare from her Admiral.

“Oh, nothing,” Thrass said, his attempt at innocence sounding more like gloating. “I would never tease about my friendship with Eli.”

"Your friendship is hardly anything other than acquaintance and mutual concern," Ar'alani reminded the Syndic. Her words were chosen carefully, Ezra could tell. To his right, Thrawn did not seem offended or flustered. In fact, since his discussion with Captain Ivant following Ezra's… incident, Ezra had noticed that Thrawn seemed a lot more balanced. Steady. Pensive and withdrawn, for sure, but not scattered and angry like he'd been before.

"Yes, yes, nevermind the countless months he spent here after his brush with death-"

Ar'alani shook her head. Ezra knew that look from previous experience with the Admiral. If Thrass wished to inspire Thrawn's attention, on his own head be it. "Yes, and you spent all that time at his bedside, did you?"

"Hardly. But I did check in on him."

"Why bring him here?" There it was, Ezra thought. Thrawn regarded Thrass coolly, but with that single-minded intensity. It was hard not to see Thrawn's luminous red eyes as anything but furious, but he'd had time to understand some of the nuance. There was suspicion there. Wariness, too. No doubt stepping into this conversation with Thrass was akin to wandering through a field full of landmines.

"Regardless of the several alternative reasons he no doubt gave you," Thrass said, "Eli’van’to did ultimately save your life. At least, that’s the part I cared about, anyway.” He shrugged. “And if you were willing to part with him despite his career at your back, I suspected you might prefer 'alive' to 'a warrior's death.'"

"What Syndic Mitth'ras'safis means," Vah'nya finally interjected, "Was that sending him to the military hospital on Csilla would have been asking for someone ill-meaning to assassinate him." She blinked up at Thrass, demurely awaiting his response. None came. She let her eyes wander over to Thrawn, seated to his left, next to the head of the table. "Under the syndic's protection was the best place for him to recover safely."

Thrawn frowned, but didn’t comment.

Vah'nya didn't flinch. "Of course," she looked at Ar'alani, "The fleet was stationed out this way and it was far easier to smuggle in human medics, too. Though they hardly did anything," She muttered, at the end.

"I do wonder why that is," Thrass tutted at Vah'nya, intent to invite her to share in some of Thrawn's ire. He knew how much his brother loved not being in the know.

"Enough squabbling," Ar'alani pressed. "Stop holding it over his head," She instructed the syndic, as if she were superior in rank. She wasn't, though it was all somewhat ambiguous as to how it lined up between military officers and political officials within the Ascendancy. It also didn't hurt that Thass knew she could rip him to literal and metaphorical pieces without difficulty. She considered Thrawn for a brief moment, almost protective, before moving on. "And you," She chided Vah'nya, "Really need to work on your gossiping."

"That was hardly gossip, Admiral. Gossiping would include me mentioning how you frequented his bedside to achieve the necessary solitude in order to catch up on your reading."

Ezra couldn't help it. He snorted, trying to hold back his laughter and failing. It was infectious though, and Vah'nya found herself joining in, much to the Admiral's disapproval.

“Enough,” Ar’alani sounded terribly annoyed, though it was hardly Vah’nya and the alien Jedi that bore the brunt of her irritation. Syndic Mitth’ras’safis was a thorn in her side. Still, if she could alleviate some areas of origin... “Leave us,” She ordered both Ezra and Vah’nya. “Enjoy your day. Do not bother me.”

“Do you have reading to do, Admiral?” Vah’nya quipped.

“Some. If you’d like,” She said, a slippery note to her voice, “I could arrange for you to assist me with the after action reports I need to review and approve.”

The Navigator was stone-faced and on her feet in seconds, the remaining food on her plate long forgotten. She hated those damn reports. “Come, Ezra’Bridger,” She said, already making for the door.

Ezra looked mournfully at his unfinished plate, but did as he was told. In the doorway to the grand dining room, Vah’nya took his wrist and dragged him not toward the terrace and the other Navigators, but towards the gardens. He could hear Thrass laughing behind them, the sound of the Chiss elite’s voice echoing down the extravagant corridors.

Vah’nya led them to a sunny place in the easternmost gardens on the estate, a greenhouse with giant, arching glass ceilings and sun-bleached glass ceilings and large white-stone flecked pillars. In the center was a beautiful, burbling fountain that spilled into a pond with strange, exotic fish that hung to the bottom peacefully.

Releasing his wrist, she spun around to face him, then gestured at two pillows laid upon the ground in the very center of the floor’s elaborate mosaic tiling. “What do you think?”

It looked… not quite natural, but Ezra took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It was far enough away from the rest of the manor, serene and calm. “I think it’s perfect.”

“Good.” The Chiss smiled.

Meditation wasn’t a key tenant of the Chiss Navigators’ training or practice. More often than not, they suffered from overstimulation that was only alleviated by sensory deprivation, allowing the body and mind to disconnect and then come back to each other naturally. Ezra likened it to a sort of hard reset, a power down and restart. He’d tried it when they’d initially tested him, a training exercise to see how he fared. Whatever they wanted from him, he likely hadn’t done it, but no one had ever said a word. Instead, they simply told him he didn’t have to attempt somnia again if he didn’t believe it was helpful, so he didn’t.

Vah’nya was interested in the way Ezra’s powers worked. Not impressed easily, like Thrass who found it interesting that Ezra could leap exceedingly high or levitate things - even people, if he wanted - in the air, manipulate things with his mind. Ezra had drawn the line at the classical ‘Jedi mind trick,’ though it was Thrawn who debunked the mystery: the Chiss were not a people who could be manipulated in this way.

He waited for Vah’nya to select which of the cushions she wished to sit on. She did so cross-legged, the backs of her hands resting open, palms up on her knees. Once she was settled, he kneeled atop the second, grateful not to bear his weight only on the marblesque tiling. Vah’nya took a deep breath in, held it, then exhaled.

“Is this all there is to it?”

“Sort of,” Ezra said. “Part of it is clearing your mind, but you’re not actually doing that. You’re supposed to be focused, but not. It’s kinda hard to explain. I usually try to feel my connection to everything around me and kind of let it guide me from there.” He rubbed the back of his head, sheepish. “My training was good, but it wasn’t… I’m not a real Jedi, like the ones from before the Empire,” Ezra admitted. “My master was trained until the Empire wiped out his master, but,” He sighed. “It wasn’t a traditional Jedi education. A lot of what I learned with Kanan, we learned together.”

“I see,” Vah’nya said. “He meant a lot to you.”

“He’s family,” Ezra answered. “I owe him everything.”

She nodded once, and they stayed silent a moment, their breathing syncing without much effort. Slowly, the Navigator asked, “Your feelings for him - for your family - do you believe it makes you strong?”

“The Jedi warned about attachment, Kanan told me. It was something he said he struggled with, and something that he thought hurt the Jedi more than it helped. But he taught me attachment and love are two different things. Attachment is selfish. It’s what you want. Real love isn’t selfish at all.”

Vah’nya considered that, shifting to get comfortable and closing her eyes. “Describe to me what your Force feels like, Ezra’Bridger.”

Eli Vanto was not a man who thought highly of himself. He was a man who, in terms of his life overall, had only recently started dictating his own destiny. Sometimes he still felt every bit of the bright-eyed cadet Thrawn had decided to uproot and reshape to his own devices. That was good, though. It was important to remember where one started from.

He looked at the data and exhaled. They needed definitive results that the data supported. Only time would tell. It was already out of his hands in a lot of ways, but he was confident he’d found compelling metrics. More than that, he believed in his Navigators.

A knock interrupted him from his thoughts. Without his approval, the door opened slowly, the hall backlighting behind his visitor so that all he could see was the outline of a woman’s silhouette and glowing red eyes.

“You have been concerning our hosts with your absence,” Admiral Ar’alani said. She would never admit to being openly worried about him herself and Vanto would never want her to. He’d seen that attention and concern pressed upon him once in his life, and that was more than enough. She was a good commanding officer. She was close to Thrawn’s level of mind-reading but without that same intensity, well rounded and seasoned in other ways that he was not. Her empathy, even towards those outside of her species, was impressive and rare for a Chiss.

Ivant beckoned her over, knowing she would feel better about his choice to devote himself to analysis once he brought her up to speed."I know what data we need to collect," He informed her.

"You do?" She stepped around the desk and stood behind him, looming just behind his right shoulder. "Show me."

"In Vah'nya, the data is spotty, since it wasn’t know beforehand what kind of data we’d be looking for." He pulled up and highlighted a line in a table, and on another holoscreen, a chart corresponding to that data appeared. "See where it jumps out of the steady decline? That's her neuro eval on Csilla, after our time in captivity."

"It hasn't dropped since," Ar'alani said. “And it has been two years.”

"I don't think it will," Ivant answered. "A medical professional could probably explain it better, but the short version is that a part of her brain has become more active." He pulled up comparisons of other Navigators. "These are ones who trial out of Project Compass."

"They dip significantly," Ar'alani commented. "And this correlates directly with their abilities?"

"Yes," Vanto confirmed. "These are Navigators in their mid teens, ages fourteen to seventeen. The numbers don't actually have to be high for them to possess and use Third Sight, but the downward trend is indicative of their abilities fading, until they eventually match those of a Sightless Chiss." He pulled up another. "These are the younger ones."

"They are rising." She motioned with a rolling wave. "And Sightless children?"

"Here are the comps."

"Sightless children are elevated more than an adult, but their numbers are not even half that of a Navigator. If what you are saying is correct, we could hypothetically test for Sight at a younger age, rather than waiting for it to manifest."

"Correct, Admiral." Ivant pulled up another screen and the chart switched to color code and match specific lines of summary data. "Now, we just need to prove these findings aren't a fluke."

"You've identified candidates?"

"Several."

"Un'hee," She presumed first, "And how many others?"

"Four." Anticipating her next question, he added, "The youngest is seven. The oldest is fifteen."

"The oldest in her decline?"

"Yes, but she's plateaued. Since being brought on board the Compass, it has not fallen-"

"Even if we can prolong it," She said. "That would be a miracle in itself." Then, she looked down at him, her cold, thin fingers squeezing his shoulder. It was a firm grip, almost painful, though she meant it as encouragement. "You have something else."

"It's a working theory," Ivant began, "Based on how Vah'nya's breakthrough manifested and the girls we've seen progress with."

She stepped back, and Ivant powered down his console, removing the data cards and locking them securely in a black box within the desk itself. "Speak your mind," She said, moving to the chaise.

"I can give you numbers to prove it, when it happens," Ivant said. "I - at least, I think I can show you what the connection is, so we can show the Admiralty it's real and not some fluke. But you or I can't make it happen."

"You believe it is individual?"

He nodded. "Maybe there's a future where that won't be the case," Ivant said, "Vah'nya is working to learn and hone skills she thinks will help. She thinks the Jedi can help her to understand, so I told her to pursue that lead."

"And what do you think the catalyst is? A brush with death? Overcoming fear?"

"No," He said. "I think it's actually a lot more simple than that."

Ar'alani inclined her head, leaning back against the plush backrest of the lounge while keeping her back entirely straight in the process. She looked regal like this, and she knew it. Also, it was far more comfortable than her command chair. "Simple how?"

"Thrawn always went on about the ways of the warrior-"

"Yes," She interrupted, "That is culturally... significant to our people.”

“Which is why I think it’s important. Vah’nya has given Un’hee old navigator texts. They spoke often and fondly of Warrior’s Fortune.”

“The account of one centuries-dead Chiss shouldn’t be enough-”

“It’s not just one. It’s listed in at least a thousand other memoirs left by different Navigators, then stops right around the time of an ancient war that I think had something to do with the Sith.”

Ar’alani frowned, the expression sharp with concern. “Explain yourself. You do not have access to their archives. It is only accessible by Navigators.”

“Vah’nya allowed me to compile data under her supervision.”

“That is a crime, Captain Eli’van’to,” She rebuked. “There are sacred articles that protect the Navigators’ texts and archives from access by those who lack the Sight, Chiss or otherwise.”

Eli took a breath and braced himself. There was no easy way to say this. “I think that the real crime is that the Chiss have been stamping out their own Navigators,” He replied, never looking away from her deep red eyes. “The articles that protect the Navigators’ works from being publically accessible went into effect after they found themselves on the losing end of an alliance. From what I could tell, the Aristocra nearly destroyed itself in the process in the midst of some political feud at about the same time. One of the end results of their squabbles was that the Navigators were forced into more combat-forward positions and likened to soldiers in training, not children.”

“I know my people’s history,” Ar’alani pressed. “To accuse our ancestors of such a thing is a very serious accusation to make. It will not be taken lightly, should it become known.”

“I know,” Ivant agreed, his shoulders rounding for only a second before he straightened again. “But I believe it’s the truth.” He regarded her for a careful moment. “Of all the Navigators you’ve ever seen, can you tell me you’ve seen another as emotionally open or expressive as Vah’nya?”

“I have not,” She answered. “She has always worn her heart on her sleeve, for better or worse. Even when society has dictated otherwise.”

“The warrior’s downfall is pride, Admiral.” He fixed her with a heavy gaze. “The Chiss are a proud people. Most are too proud to show emotion or admit fear because it’s considered weakness. And, seeing it that way, they’re-” He sighed, “For a lack of a better term, ma’am, they’re blinding the Navigators. They’re not making the connections they need to fully unlock their abilities. At least, not like they used to, millennia ago.”

“If you were to say this to the Aristocra, they would throw you out, no matter how many numbers or navigators you provided to them,” Ar’alani said. “You would be lucky to escape without being fired upon.”

Ivant smirked. “Then it sounds like I’m onto something.”

“Perhaps,” She allowed. “Do not utilize the archives without me next time,” She said. “It is not only current Navigators who may access the ancient texts and I would like to know what aspects of our past will help to secure our future.”

Message received, Ivant dipped his head in a respectful nod. “Understood, Admiral.”

Satisfied, she continued. “If what you say is true, Eli’van’to, we will face difficult odds,” Her expression was grim, but held the slightest undercurrent of hope. “The words of an outsider will not be well received, no matter how true they are.”

“I know. That’s why Vah’nya should be the one to present them, when the time comes. She is the one who started all of this.”

Tsking, Ar’alani said, “I hardly believe that. This started because she felt compelled to protect you.”

“This started,” Ivant said, “Because protecting others is a warrior’s duty. And the Chiss, above all else, are warriors at heart.”

Ar’alani smiled. “I do not believe it is only Chiss who possess the heart of a warrior.” Her gaze narrowed, but there was no malice in it, only cool understanding. “Not always.”

#thranto #eli vanto/thrawn #eli vanto #mitth'raw'nuruodo #mitth'ras'safis #ezra bridger #vah'nya #ar'alani #sw fanfiction #my writing #gratuitous overreaching re: chiss warrior culture #that's not how the force works #but this is sight so i'm going to do my thing #i did my research before i concocted this theory #feel free to ask if you want to know more #there is some science behind what i've made up

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erucchii92 · 8 years ago

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Hey guys~ As usual, I am late. Wednesday was yesterday for me. This also happens to be my first T5W post of the year. :D As you all know, Top 5 Wednesday is a discussion group on Goodreads, started by Lainey and now moderated by Sam.

This week’s topic is Favourite Non-Written Novels. Basically, it means any top 5 fav manga, comics, graphic novels…etc. any others books except for the normal novel, you can list it down.

Mine will definitely be filled with manga, haha. I mostly read shoujo manga (romantic, sweet, fluffy manga that is sure to make a girl’s heart go doki doki), and yaoi manga (LGBT manga, well, yaoi specifically focused on gay love). But sometimes I do like to read action/ fantasy manga.

So, on to the list…

1. Kingyo Sou by Fujitsuka Yuki

Summary:

During springtime in their second year of high school, Asuka fell in love with Masami after seeing him play the Harmony Drums during the festival. However, Masami is deaf, and in his own soundless world, he has closed his heart. With this, their miraculous but painful love quietly begins. A pure midsummer love story that will warm your heart. Fujitsuka Yuki’s long awaited debut comic!

I think this is probably my favourite manga of all time. It has 8 chapters with one short bonus story, split into two books.

I love Asuka and Masami’s love story, the way that Asuka is not scared off when she found out that Masami is deaf and continued to pursue him romantically, and how Masami is slowly falling in love with Asuka.

At this point, I think I’ve read this manga more than 10 times.

2. Ichihara Yukino

Summary:

Teased unmercifully for his past as an orphan and a slave, Teito has only his best friend Mikage to ease his days at the elite Barsburg Academy – and his mastery of the magical art of Zaiphon! But even that will not be enough to save him when he discovers a horrifying secret behind the ruling Empire. Trapped in an ancient battle between a wicked Death God and the Seven Ghosts and guided by three mysterious priests, Teito discovers a power that could save the world… and shed light on his own mysterious past.

This is definitely one of my favourite action/ fantasy manga. It has 100 chapters, split into 17 books. There are sweet parts that makes you go awe, sad parts that make you cry and funny parts that make you laugh so hard. There’s even epic bromance scenes (which is probably one of the main reasons why I love this manga so much). Imagine if I still collect manga novels. I would have spent roughly RM 663 for this series alone.

3. Beauty Pop by Arai Kiyoko

Summary:

Although a truly gifted hairstylist, Kiri Koshiba has no interest in using her talent to pursue fame and fortune, unlike the three popular boys in the “Scissors Project” at school. Determined to become the best makeover team in Japan, they give showy makeovers to handpicked girls. As much as Kiri tries to shy away from the Scissors Project spotlight, she finds herself responding to beauty’s call…

When I first started reading this shoujo manga, it immediately reminded me of Prince of Tennis (God! I love that manga so much), but instead of about sports, it’s about hairstyling and stuff. I didn’t know I would end up loving this manga a lot. I’ve read this manga like more than 10 times too, and my gosh, I always end up not sleeping when I started reading because I just want to get to the next chapter and the next. Haha This manga has 51 chapters + 3 bonus stories, split into 10 books.

4. Sex Pistols / Love Pistols by Kotobuki Tarako

Summary:

People are starting to act very odd around Norio. This average, normal boy is suddenly getting a lot of unwanted romantic attention and he can’t figure out why! A broken leg and a fall down the stairs into the arms of a handsome stranger set off the beginnings of an explanation, and it is one Norio never could have possibly imagined. Soon a whole new world opens up for Norio, revealing a secret society of special people evolved from animals other than monkeys. This society has a complex structure and its members are ranked by rarity and desirability, and it turns out that Norio is a particularly rare breed and his DNA is in much demand! How will he survive in this modern jungle where he’s suddenly the prey?

I first read this manga when I was 16. You see, I love fanfictions, I love SLASH PAIRING, and I absolutely love mpreg. So, I decided to look if there’s any mpreg manga, and what do you know? There is one, and it is called… SEX PISTOLS. Or Love Pistols, it depends.

At first, I was only lured by the promise of mpreg, but I didn’t expect myself to fall in love with the manga. The characters, the stories…all of them. Damn. I find myself laughing, squealing, ranting in frustration and crying while reading this. As of now, the manga has 49 chapters, split into 8 books, and is still ongoing.

5. Shinshi Doumei Cross (The Gentleman’s Alliance Cross) by Tanemura Arina

Summary:

In return for a business loan of 50 million yen, the prestigious Kamiya family gave their daughter Haine away to the Otomiya family. Haine, now an Otomiya, is appointed to the student council of the exclusive Imperial Academy, a private school for the aristocracy. Even though Haine is of proper lineage to be on the council, she finds herself struggling to find her place among the many secrets of its elite members, especially those of the president who holds her heart – Shizumasa Togu, aka “the Emperor.”

Haine has been in love with Shizumasa Togu from the day she read the picture book he wrote as a child. She enrolls the Imperial Academy to be close to him and is accepted as a member of the student council. But with that, dark secrets start to reveal themselves! Why does “The Emperor” act differently? Is Haine really in love with Shizumasa? Why did her father sell her and why doesn’t her mother write to her anymore?

I bought this manga because I love Arina’s arts, and damn, this story is so <3. Far-fetched, not realistic but still makes my shoujo heart go doki doki. Icing on top is that it has yaoi love. Maora (the person on the cover) is a guy and loves his childhood friend, also a guy. But then, I’m not sure if it could be considered gay love, because Maora ended up dressing up as a girl so that his childhood friend would accept him. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure if what Maora and Maguri have is yaoi, because I think Maora is genderfluid and dresses up as a girl most of the time.

Honorary mention:

These two manga are in my top 10 list, and also two of the classics.

1. The Prince of Tennis by Konomi Takeshi (1999). It has 379 chapters, split into 42 books. (Imagine collecting this series O.O)

2. Gokusen by Morimoto Kozueko (1999). I think this one has 50+ chapters, split into 15 books.

So, these are my favourite non-written novels. Do you love reading manga? Have you read any that I’ve mentioned? I’d love to know what your favourite non-written novels are. :)

Cheers,

Top 5 Wednesday | Favorite Non-Written Novels (14th Feb ’17) Hey guys~ As usual, I am late. Wednesday was yesterday for me. This also happens to be my first T5W post of the year.

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