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ultimatetrashyfanfic · 3 years

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I’ve been really into Komahina lately. This started off all lighthearted but then became a bucketload of Komahina hurt/comfort. Just because I think Nagito needs more people to care about him. This is post-hope arc when they are just trying to be normal again. - Circle

Also on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33992074

Warning: descriptions of injuries (nothing serious but requires stitches), blood, some spoilers for SDR2 game and the anime.

Nagito wasn’t surprised when his bad luck struck that day. He’d been having too much of a good time. He’d come to expect this, to feel a wary tension whenever something nice happened because he knew the bad was now right around the corner.

At least this time the luck had affected himself rather than the other Ultimates. The morning had been so happy and relaxed, the perfect conditions for Nagito to let his guard down. He was so grateful to be invited on the beach trip with Hajime, Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi. They’d acted like it was no big deal, like they had no idea of the gravity their invitation held.

“You want to hang out with a nobody like me? The Ultimates are so generous, I don’t deserve such-” Nagito started, but then Hajime put a hand over his mouth, Kazuichi stuck his fingers in his ears and Fuyuhiko told him to shut the fuck up - but all three did this fondly.

It was easy to grow accustomed to the beach when living on a tropical island, but it seemed especially beautiful that day. Blue sea and white sand shimmered with a special sort of exotic glamour - though perhaps that was down to the three other men laughing along and acting like he was equal to them. It was absurd, really, that these Ultimates should give him any attention. He was about to voice this very thought, but then Hajime took Nagito’s hand without hesitation - without a hint of shame - and the words died away. A strange warm feeling bloomed in his chest, heavy and unfamiliar.

Hajime must’ve sensed he was getting overwhelmed, because he led Nagito back up the beach while Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko went swimming. Or at least Fuyuhiko went swimming; Kazuichi paddled and ran for the shore whenever a strand of seaweed brushed against his leg. Hajime spread their towels out in the shade of a palm tree, lying flat and gesturing for Nagito to do the same. “Come on, get in the shade. I know how easily your skin burns.”

“Don’t you want to swim too, Hajime?” Nagito asked, flopping down. He let his head fall back onto Hajime’s stomach, making his grunt softly.

“No, it’s okay. I could tell you needed some peace and quiet.”

Nagito frowned. Hajime was doing that much more often, seeing through his smiles and cheerful comments to the truth inside. Nagito knew he should be happy, grateful even. Hajime wanted to know him better. Hajime wanted to understand him. So why did it make Nagito feel so raw and vulnerable, like Hajime was scrubbing away a layer of his skin?

“You shouldn’t have to miss time with your friends for someone like me,” Nagito said. “You were nice enough to bring me along. That’s more than enough.”

“What, do you think I’m going to chain you to a tree like a dog while we have fun? I’m not missing out on time with anybody. I’m spending time with you, Nagito. Because I want to. I like to. Right?” Hajime said, his voice exasperated. But then Nagito felt a hand in his hair, clumsy yet gentle, and he knew Hajime wasn’t really upset with him.

Nagito felt the weird feeling come back, itching insistently. He forced himself to give a lighthearted laugh. “You’re so inspiring, Hajime. You have hope for everyone, even miserable wretches like me.”

“Nagito.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

Nagito did as he was told. Hajime started idly fiddling with Nagito’s hair, taking hold of one wild curl and pulling it straight, then letting it bounce back. Nagito wasn’t sure if he liked it or not, nervous giggles tickling the back of his throat. This wasn’t them. They weren’t tender and gentle and soft. They weren’t sweet words and walks on the beach and fingers running through hair. Their relationship was messy. They were angry outbursts and nightmares and holding onto each other too tightly, too long.

Nagito remained tense for a long time, but Hajime didn’t speak again. His hand continued moving through Nagito’s mop of hair until - finally - he felt the man sigh and release the tension in his shoulders. With the warm sun on his face and his head bobbing slowly up and down to the rhythm of Hajime’s breaths, Nagito felt his eyelids droop. And the nightmares didn’t come this time.

Hajime must’ve slept too, because they were both woken by a splash of icy water over their faces. Hajime yelped and sat upright so hastily Nagito tumbled off him onto the sand, spluttering in shock, wet hair plastered to his face.

Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi loomed over them with empty buckets, grinning impishly. Hajime lifted his sopping fringe with one hand to glare at them, and they both burst out laughing.

“You two were sleeping the day away! We didn’t want you getting dehydrated.”

“It was Kazuichi’s idea,” Fuyuhiko said.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Hajime growled.

“It wasn’t! Fuyuhiko started it,” Kazuichi said, but he was giggling like an idiot and it was clear he was lying.

Hajime stumbled to his feet, hauled Nagito up and snatched Kazuichi’s bucket from his hands. “Right, come on, Nagito. Payback.”

Hajime started running to the shoreline, dragging Nagito along. Fuyuhiko made for the sea too, and Kazuichi, who was now without a bucket, ran to the right of the beach, clambering over the slick rocks by the cliffs to hide.

“I’ll go after him,” Nagito told Hajime. “I know there’s only two buckets but I could… throw seaweed at him, I suppose. He seemed afraid of it in the water.”

Hajime snorted. “Yes, do that! That’s hilarious. I’ll get Fuyuhiko.”

“No you fucking won’t!” Fuyuhiko yelled.

So Nagito ran down to the side of the beach too. The damp black rocks appeared every low tide as the sea retreated, leaving behind a selection of tiny pools filled with small fish and anemones and little crabs. The rocks were covered with seaweed and very slippery, and Nagito was barefoot. He should’ve known better - he was used to watching out for potential hazards - but Nagito knew Gundham and Sonia had been down there on several occasions to study the wildlife in the rock pools, and neither of them had been sensibly dressed. Sonia was even in heels, for God’s sake. Surely the rocks couldn’t be that treacherous.

He wasn’t thinking properly. It was just nice to finally be able to act silly and do stupid stuff with people who seemed to want him around, even if they were just being kind. Nagito had never been in a water fight in his life. He was kidding himself he was normal.

So he clambered over the slime-covered rocks with reckless abandon, barely pausing to breathe. He had his eyes on Kazuichi in the distance, and he didn’t notice the small rock pool until he was slipping into it, his right foot sliding over sharp rock and rough barnacles. The pain and the shock of the icy water screamed all the way up his leg and his knees gave way, sending him falling onto his behind in the pool with a splash. He sat still for several seconds, the sole of his foot screaming.

Kazuichi had originally started laughing when he saw Nagito fall, but his expression clouded when Nagito didn’t join in. Usually Nagito smiled after his clumsy moments and said something about his bad luck being a stepping stone for hope later or some similar bullshit. But this time Nagito didn’t smile. He didn’t attempt to get up. He just sat there, face blank.

“Hey,” Kazuichi called, slowly creeping over. He still wasn’t quite sure if this was a trick. He didn’t want to get a face full of seawater. “You alright?”

Nagito didn’t react. He didn’t even blink. Kazuichi moved closer, coming right up to the rock pool and bracing himself. Nagito didn’t try to splash him. He just sat, blank-faced, twirling one finger idly in the water and making pinkish swirls with the… sand? Silt? Kazuichi couldn’t tell what it was floating in the rock pool, but it didn’t look sanitary.

“You should probably get up. That looks pretty dirty,” Kazuichi advised. “And you’re getting your pants wet. What’re you doing anyway? You’re not gonna go weird on me, are you?”

“I… think I may require Mikan, when it’s most suitable for her. I wouldn’t want to bother an Ultimate with my petty issues,” Nagito said calmly.

“What? Why?” Kazuichi said, alarmed. “Did you hurt yourself when you fell?”

As if in answer, Nagito lifted his right leg out of the water. Kazuichi’s eyes went wide when he spotted the huge gash on the sole of Nagito’s foot, gushing blood at a terrifying pace. He looked again at the murky pinkish water and suddenly understood.

“Oh my fucking God! Fuck, shit, what do we do?” Kazuichi cried in a panic. “Don’t just sit there playing around in your blood, you weirdo! Shit, HAJIME!” Kazuichi yelled back down the beach, waving his arms at the two men in the distance like he’d been shipwrecked.

They approached warily, not taking the situation seriously. “This better not be a trick, Kazuichi!”

“I’m not playing the game anymore! Komaeda is bleeding to death over here!”

“What?” Hajime cried, picking up the pace.

“Bleeding to death is rather an exaggeration,” Nagito said. “You’d need to lose thirty to forty percent of the blood in your body to even fall unconscious.”

“I’m not going to ask how the hell you know that,” Kazuichi mumbled.

Hajime and Fuyuhiko climbed over the rocks, staring in horror at the big cut on Nagito’s foot and the rock pool growing cloudy with blood.

“What did you do?!” Fuyuhiko cried. Nagito opened his mouth, but Fuyuhiko was looking at Kazuichi.

“I didn’t do anything!” Kazuichi cried, looking wounded. “I think he slipped or something. I found him just sitting there.”

“It was nobody’s fault but my own,” Nagito said, his voice the calmest among them despite the fact that he was the one gushing blood. “I was tempting my bad luck. I should be thankful I’m not worse off.”

“What’s he on about?” Kazuichi asked Hajime.

“His luck cycle thing.”

“So something bad is gonna happen every time we’re nice to him?” Kazuichi said. “That sucks. Should we like… shove him over first before we invite him somewhere? Will that cancel it out?”

“Kazuichi, stop fucking talking,” Fuyuhiko snapped.

“I didn’t mean a hard shove or anything…”

“Shut up.”

“We need to get him to Mikan,” Hajime said firmly, hooking his hands under Nagito’s arms and carefully hauling him out of the rock pool. “Ugh, you’re all soggy.”

“Yes, that tends to happen when you fall into water, Hajime,” Nagito said, smiling. Not quite a nice and happy smile though.

“You should probably carry him,” Fuyuhiko said. “Otherwise he’ll get sand in the cut. And he can’t hop all the way back. You should keep his leg elevated above his head to reduce the blood flow.”

“How am I meant to do that?” Hajime snapped. “Dangle him upside down from his ankles?”

“I was only trying to help, asshole.”

“You’d all be terrible first responders. We’ve made no progress whatsoever,” Nagito said. Hajime and Fuyuhiko told him to shut up in unison.

Kazuichi was grimacing at the growing pool of blood under Nagito’s foot. “He has a point. He’s bleeding a lot, guys. We should probably do something.”

“He’s on a ton of medication. Lots of them have blood clotting as a side effect, so he has to take blood thinners. That’s why it’s… bad,” Hajime explained. He sighed, scooping Nagito up into his arms, cradling him like a bride.

It was still far too easy to hold him like this; Nagito’s eating habits were pretty disordered. On bad days he wouldn’t eat at all. Hajime had thought it was sheer obstinacy, but when he’d forced Nagito to have lunch it had come back up again so quickly Nagito hadn’t even reached the bathroom in time. They were in Hajime’s cabin too, which made it worse. That was one of the few times Nagito grew visibly angry with him. He was usually so careful to keep a smooth, happy mask, smiling and chuckling when he was nervous or upset or scared. Hajime never pressured him to eat when he said he couldn’t again.

“Is this okay?” Hajime asked, trying to shift his arms to lift Nagito’s injured foot as high as possible.

“Are you going to carry me over the threshold, Hajime?” Nagito said, smiling.

Hajime could feel his cheeks growing warm. Wow, that was not good. He didn’t want to react physically whenever Nagito teased him, or he’d just tease much more. “I’ll drop you in the ocean if you’re not careful.”

“Who says chivalry is dead,” Fuyuhiko muttered dryly. “Now hurry up, we need to get help. Take Nagito back to your cabin, Hajime. Me and Kazuichi will go hunt down Mikan.”

Kazuichi usually moaned if anyone tried to make him dash around in the hot island sun, but he just nodded. “Yeah, we’ll find her. Try not to bleed to death, okay Nagito?”

“I’ll do my best.”

They ran off together, and Hajime carried Nagito across the sand towards the cabins. Nagito had his arms wound around Hajime’s neck, his face peering over his shoulder. “We’re leaving a trail of blood. Like that old fairy story.”

“What?”

“Some children leave a trail so they don’t get lost in the woods. I remember that part, but I can’t think of the title. It was so long ago…”

“Oh, you mean Hansel and Gretel. And they left a trail of breadcrumbs, you weirdo, not blood.”

“And there was a woman in that story who was a cannibal…”

“She was a witch. She was keeping the kids to cook and eat them.” Hajime was starting to think properly about some of the fairy tails they’d all grown up with. They were actually pretty dark when you thought about it. Trust Nagito to bring that to his attention.

“Never mind that. How’re you feeling? You’re bleeding an awful lot. And it must hurt.”

“You don’t need to worry about a nobody li-”

“Nagito, if you don’t give me a real answer I really am going to drop you.”

“No you’re not.” Nagito spoke with such calm confidence that Hajime had to clench his teeth to hold back a snarky retort. Okay, maybe Nagito was correct. Hajime wouldn’t just dump his injured boyfriend on his ass in the sand. But that didn’t make his tone any less annoying.

“Ah, you’re pulling a scary face, Hajime! Are you growing tired of me yet?” Nagito asked, starting to laugh.

Hajime sighed. He’d been hearing that line a lot from Nagito, as long as they’d been dating and well back into their friendship too. Are you tired of me yet? Whenever it was Nagito’s turn to wake gasping from a nightmare, whenever he grew so ill and weak he could barely move and Hajime had to walk him to the bathroom, whenever the phantom pains from a hand no longer there kept them both up at night, he’d start. Ah, I’m such a burden. Why are you here, Hajime? Why do you care about a nobody like me? Aren’t you tired of this? Aren’t you tired of me?

He always kept his voice light and easy, but Hajime sensed there was must be some sort of truth behind the questions. Nobody repeated something over and over like a parrot unless the same thoughts were swirling non-stop in their own heads. Hajime knew Nagito had been alone most of his childhood, forced to take care of his own problems. Now he seemed to baulk at the idea of help or support of any kind, like Hajime was going to play a cruel joke on him and shove him away at the last second.

“I’m growing tired of you saying that,” Hajime said. “Come on, let’s just get inside. And no more woe-is-me speeches, right? I keep telling you, I want to help.”

“You’re so kind, Hajime.”

“I’m not kind. I’m not doing it because I’m kind,” Hajime said irritably. “I’m doing it because I want to. Because I care about you. Okay?”

Nagito didn’t respond, just smiling calmly. Hajime wished he could peer right behind those eyes and see what really went on in Nagito’s head. He sighed and sat on his bed to wait for Mikan. As he was still holding Nagito, he ended up perched on Hajime’s lap, but he didn’t attempt to move. Hajime felt the tight frustration in his chest ease and he carefully wound his arms around Nagito’s skinny waist. Too skinny. Fuck, they needed to find something Nagito could eat even when he felt ill.

“I’m dripping blood on your carpet,” Nagito whispered, his head still resting on Hajime’s shoulder.

“Doesn’t matter right now.” He peered over the side of the bed. “You’re still bleeding a lot. Are you feeling okay? You’ve gone pretty pale.”

“Just a little light-headed, Hajime. Don’t worry about me.”

“Of course I’m worrying about you. Stop testing me, Nagito. I care. I’m not leaving, I’m not annoyed, I’m not sick of you. Please stop it,” Hajime begged.

Nagito went silent again. There was a strange expression on his face, brows furrowed, almost irritated - but before Hajime could question him there was a knock at his cabin door and Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi burst in. They were dragging Mikan between them, one on either side of her like bodyguards.

“We found her!” Kazuichi cried. “Is Komaeda okay? Because we don’t have spare blood if he needs a transfusion or something.”

“Who the fuck has spare blood?” Fuyuhiko snapped. “He’ll be fine. I’ve seen guys bleed way more than that and still live.”

“Well, the peace and quiet in here was nice while it lasted,” Hajime muttered. He smiled at Mikan apologetically. “Sorry for dragging you over here at such short notice, but I think he needs stitches.”

“I don’t want to cause trouble. I would never tear an Ultimate away from their work with my petty desires and-” Nagito’s string of self-deprecation was swiftly cut off as Hajime’s clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Don’t listen to him. Please, can you help him?”

“Of course,” Mikan said. Her smile was nervous, but Hajime didn’t think it was anything they’d done - Mikan always seemed nervous. She’d had the forethought to bring a case of supplies when Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi dragged her across the island, so she knelt on the blood-spattered carpet and took hold of Nagito’s ankle.

“Y-yes, it’s quite a deep gash, but it’s not very serious. You’ll need stitches and you won’t be able to get them wet or put weight on your right foot for at least a week,” she explained, snapping on rubber gloves.

“Looks like Hajime will be doing a lot more carrying then,” Fuyuhiko said.

“Does Peko carry you when you get hurt?” Kazuichi teased, then yelped as Fuyuhiko thumped him hard.

“I’m going to clean the wound. I want you to take a deep breath, Nagito. This will be painful,” Mikan said. Her usually shaky voice seemed much firmer and more assured when she was talking about her medicine. Her clumsy hands grew confident and graceful as she worked, carefully cleaning, stitching and bandaging the wound while gently reminding Nagito when to breathe and warning him when something was going to be painful. She put so much effort into making him as comfortable as possible - an Ultimate trying to help a nobody like him! Nagito wanted to show Mikan how thankful he was, how wonderfully selfless it was to treat him like a worthy patient, like an equal - but his throat ached so badly he could only choke out a “thank you” in an almost inaudible voice.

And it wasn’t just Mikan; Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko stayed too. They peered over Mikan’s shoulder while she worked, having to be reminded several times to back off. Kazuichi pulled faces whenever the wound was revealed and Fuyuhiko teased Nagito for managing to slice his foot so badly in a fall most people could’ve laughed off uninjured, but it was clear they cared too. They did their best to offer help.

“I’ll bring dinner for both of you tonight,” Fuyuhiko said. “Probably best if Nagito rests in the quiet. He might be feeling shitty from the shock.”

“I’ll make you some crutches, Nagito,” Kazuichi promised. “Crutches that work on the sand too so you can still go to the beach with us.”

They were being so nice… and all Nagito wanted to do was shove them out the door. The tightness in his chest was growing worse and worse, like somebody was slowly tightening a belt over his ribs. He was dangerously close to shattering, and that was something he couldn’t do now. He needed them out. They cared too much. He hardly dared blink or speak in case it all came bursting out.

Nagito moved closer to Hajime as Mikan fixed the bandages on his foot, his lips so close they brushed Hajime’s ear. “Make them leave. Please.”

He couldn’t say any more. He wanted to explain, wanted to make Hajime realise how urgent this was, how close he was to being vulnerable around three people he was not ready to open up to in this way. Hell, it was still hard even to show Hajime, the man he literally shared a bed with.

Nagito’s eyes were burning. He felt a surge of panic. Oh God, Hajime, please get them out of here…

Perhaps Hajime heard the strain in Nagito’s whisper, perhaps he felt how tense his body had grown against him, but - miraculously - he seemed to understand. He carefully eased Nagito onto the bed, thanked their friends for their help and reassured everyone Nagito would be okay now, he just needed some rest and some peace. Nagito stopped listened. He was barely blinking. He managed to smile and nod until Hajime had ushered Mikan, Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko to the door, then Nagito rolled over and hastily buried his face in a pillow.

Hajime finally convinced his friends they’d both be fine and closed the door with a sigh of relief. He turned back to the bed, not too surprised to see Nagito lying on his stomach with his face hidden.

Nagito was all mixed up when it came to emotions; bad situations had him laughing and smiling, positive reinforcement had driven him to tears several times now. With Hajime. Nagito refused to cry in public. Sometimes it could be really inconvenient too. Since they’d all woken up and decided to try to undo all the terrible things in their past, everyone was trying to be nicer. And trying to be nicer to Nagito if he was feeling particularly weak or tired or ill that day was fatal. He’d start tugging on Hajime’s hand, gently at first, but the tugging would grow more frantic as he struggled to retain control. Sometimes Hajime had to interrupt people mid-conversation with some silly excuse to save Nagito’s pride. Once he’d run out of ideas and made out to Akane that he had a sudden and urgent need to use the toilet. That had actually made Nagito laugh when he’d calmed down.

It wasn’t ideal, but Hajime couldn’t help being thankful that Nagito trusted him more than anyone else. Trusted Hajime to whisk him away when he needed help, and trusted Hajime to hold him while he wept silently, face hidden in his jacket or covered with his hands - even Hajime didn’t get to see his face when Nagito was in that state.

So Hajime didn’t comment when he saw Nagito soundlessly weeping into his pillow (hopefully Nagito’s pillow anyway. Hajime didn’t want tears and snot on his own pillow). He didn’t ask what was wrong. He simply walked to the foot of the bed and took hold of Nagito’s ankle, examining Mikan’s handiwork. The white bandages were almost the same colour as Nagito’s skin, and his exposed toes were icy cold.

“You should put some socks on,” Hajime noted.

Nagito, predictably, didn’t move, so Hajime grabbed a pair from the dresser. “Are you going to cooperate?”

Nothing. Hajime sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed and grabbing hold of Nagito’s leg. “Honestly, I bet even Sonia never had anybody to put her socks on for her and she’s royalty. Come on, bend your leg. Help me out a bit.” Despite his grumbling, Hajime eased the socks on with scrupulous care, being especially delicate with the injured foot. “There, your majesty. Surely that must feel better.”

Nagito still didn’t make a sound. Hajime moved to stretch out beside him on the bed, a hand resting between his shoulders. “Hey,” Hajime mumbled. “It’s alright. I know it’s hard, but they care about you. It’s not a bad thing.”

“They shouldn’t care. I did terrible things,” Nagito said, his voice so muffled by the pillow it was hard to understand him.

“So did I. So did everybody here. We’re all trying to make up for that.”

“I don’t deserve love.”

“That’s what you tell yourself. It’s not the truth.” Hajime very gently eased Nagito off the pillow into his arms. Nagito immediately hid his face in Hajime’s chest, but he didn’t pull away. He clamped a hand hard over his mouth to keep the sobs inside.

“Don’t,” Hajime said firmly, taking hold of Nagito’s hand and trying to pry the fingers away from his lips. “Stop holding it all in. I think that’s partly why you keep getting overwhelmed so often. You never let go.”

Nagito didn’t give up, wrenching his hand free and slapping it right back across his lips - but not before a single gasping sob had escaped. It was the first time Hajime had ever heard him make a noise while he cried. Nagito screwed up his face immediately, wincing.

“No, that’s good! Fucking fantastic! Jesus Christ, I can’t believe I’m cheering you on for crying, but here we are,” Hajime muttered. He took hold of Nagito’s hand once again and tried to prise it away. “Come on, we’re on the right track. It’s just us here. Our door is locked, nobody expects us at dinner. You’re safe, okay? You’re not a burden. I don’t think any less of you. Please…”

Hajime yanked Nagito’s hand away, keeping hold of the wrist this time. Immediately a loud sob burst out, another chasing on its heels so quickly Nagito barely had time to draw breath. And the floodgates opened. He gasped and wheezed and sobbed, soaking Hajime’s chest with tears and spit and snot, clinging so tightly to Hajime’s arms that his nails left little crescent moon shapes in the skin. And Hajime never complained. He held Nagito tight, whispering encouragement into his hair, warm hands rubbing between Nagito’s shoulder blades - holding him together, anchoring him against the darkness that swirled inside Nagito’s head.

Nagito wasn’t sure how long he spent sobbing desperately into his boyfriend’s chest; it felt like hours. He cried until his head throbbed and his throat ached. He cried for his friends, struggling themselves to shake their pasts as Remnants of Despair. He cried for all the people they hurt and tortured under Junko’s brainwashing. He cried for the parents he could only remember from photographs. He cried for the childhood dog who’d died in his arms. He cried for himself, for his lifetime of loneliness, his bad luck driving people away out of fear. And he cried for Chiaki.

All the while, Hajime held him. Hajime let Nagito drip all over him for an eternity, and when the sobs finally, finally started to fade away, Hajime brought him a bottle of water and held a cold cloth to his puffy eyes, wrapping an arm around him and pulling Nagito against his shoulder. “I learned this from Mahiru. She does this for Hiyoko when she’s been crying. It’s meant to stop your eyes getting all red and sore.”

Nagito nodded, far too emotionally exhausted to speak. He sat helplessly while Hajime fussed over him with tender but clumsy hands, dabbing his face with tissues and smoothing his messy hair off his forehead. Nagito stared blankly ahead - and then felt two warm hands grip his cheeks. He was forced to stare into Hajime’s heterochromic eyes.

“Hey…” Hajime’s soft tone was a complete contrast to his firm stare. “I’m so proud of you, Nagito.”

It almost brought the tears back. Proud of him? For what? For having a tantrum like a baby?

Hajime recognised his expression. “I’m proud of you for feeling. I’m not good at this mushy stuff and I know you’re not either… but it’s just so good to finally see you letting yourself hurt openly like that. I’m really fucking proud of you.”

Nagito’s chest hurt again. He pulled Hajime’s hands away from his cheeks and held them, squeezing as hard as he could manage. It took several tries before he managed to speak, tasting salty tears on his dry lips. “Next time you feel bad,” he whispered, his voice low and hoarse, “I’ll put your socks on for you too.”

Hajime laughed - and Nagito finally found himself smiling again, though his face was still blotchy and tearstained. They’d be okay. They had each other to put their socks on when they were having bad days.

#danganronpa #danganronpa sdr2 #danganronpa 2 #post-SDR2 #komahina #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #kazuichi soda #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #hurt/comfort #injury #mod circle #post-hope arc #spoilers warning

79 notes · View notes

mejomonster · 3 years

Text

Making a list of some dramas:

CURRENTLY WATCHING:

Meet You At The Blossom***

4 Minutes

Snowfall***

Unknown the Series

Dead Boy Detectives**

Granada Holmes

Bodies?

Bridgerton?

We Are??

23.5 Degrees

The Spirealm

The Sign

The Expanse

Dark Shadows 1966???

Leverage???

Cherry Magic thai?

Bodies?

Invisible??

Dare Me??

When i have time???

Mysterious Lotus Casebook

Be My Favorite

Stay with Me

Oh No! Here Comes Trouble

The Eclipse

About Youth

Love Lost Forever

Pluto

Shows when I get some time rip ;-;:

Young Blood (season 1 and 2)

I feel you linger in the air

The sign

Pit babe (?????)

Love Senior

Young Royals (I heard it's good)

Your Nave Engraved Herein

Red White and Royal Blue (when it comes out)

Three Body Problem (I need to finish!)

Seven Days

Kei X Yaku

Kamen Rider Build

Laws of Attraction

To Sir With Love

Junkyouju Takatsuki Akira no Suisatsu

Ouroboros

Three Body

The Bad Kids

The Longest Night

你好,安怡 (Humans cdrama adaptation)

Miu404

Look I have no time okay ;-; and when Only Friends and Dangerous Romance dramas come out I'm gonna be swept up by them immediately lol

Shows I wanna watch/rewatch soon:

Hikaru No Go/Qi Hun (all on youtube rn!)

Close your eyes before it's dark

Heroes (when I have time)

An Ancient Love Song

Butterflied Lover

Legend of Yunze

Couple of Mirrors

How to Get Away With Murder (fire Island reminded Me how much I love the actors work)

Orphan Black (I miss it and wanna rewatch and finish)

Guardian (am currently rewatching slowly o3o)

Vice Versa

Mama Gogo

Kinnporsche

Old Fashioned Cupcake

Monster (anime)

Ranma 1/2 (rewatch)

Death Note (rewatch... and then the jdrama...)

Sherlock Untold (jdrama)

The Great (???)

Interview with the Vampire amc (GREAT)

Misfits (rewatching)

The sandman

Checkmate (aaaaa)

The Eclipse (GREAT)

Akira

Lost Track of time

A familiar stranger

Devilman

Berserk

Love Between Fairy and Devil (LOVE)

Update, current historical ish dramas I'm giving a shot:

The Rise of The Phoenixes (Chen Kun and Nini are <3)

Story of Yanxi Palace

The Rebel Princess

The Legend of Zhenhuan (at some point, I feel jade palace lock heart or story of yanxi palace will tempt me into checking this one out)

Special notes:

THE DEFECTIVE EP 1 is out!

Another priest donghua is out!! Lie Huo Jiao Chou

Couple of mirrors on ep 2

Currently watching: Humans ep 11

Sot3k ep 26

Guardian ep 6

Love and Redemption ep 28

The Devil Judge

Not me the series - excellent I'm in love

F4 boys over flowers - surprisingly loving it so far and a much more suspenseful story than I expected now I want to watch the Japanese drama

Bad and crazy - Lee dong wook back in an action !!

My beautiful man jdrama

Our flag means death loved it! Highly rec!!

Gentleman jack - stopped watching. It's nice as a period romance, but I just do not like a landlord and my favorite character is Mary who is not gonna be the favored character any time soon

What we do in the shadows - loved it, rec if you liked the movie or just like chill vampire comedies

Plus and Minus - new taiwan bl that looks good

49 days with a merman - Taiwan drama

I'm your heart - chinese uncensored bl, cute

thai dramas:

3 Will Be Free (so good!! Rewatching and finishing did I mention enough how much I love this show?)

Lovely Writer (it had a strong beginning but then I dropped it, I wonder if it stayed good?)

A Fish Upon The Sky (like Lovely Writer above it felt like meaningfully heavy stuff/themes at first pretending at Fluff, also a lot like Theory of Love one of my all time faves... but I was waiting for more eps to come out)

Bad buddy - watched it. Recommend if you want a romantic comedy Romeo and Romeo with some depth and heart. Even though it's not my usual genre, I love Ohm and Nanons acting, love P'Aofs direction choices, and it really resonated with me as a first love from high school arc. It's definitely a feel good show with some serious heart in points.

Girl From Nowhere (looks scary and well acted!!)

Manner of Death (this and 3wbf are probably my biggest ‘really want to watch’ shows on here but I want full focus and see they require more attention then half-fluff romance ;-; Manner of Death looks like Exactly My Kinda Thing)

The revenge

The player

F4 thailand

Never too late

The eclipse

Moonlight chicken

Midnight hotel

Dirty laundry

Kinnporsche

Cupids last wish

Meow Ears Up

War with y

cdramas:

Upcoming I'm curious for: agarwood like crumbs (cheng yi), meet me in your sound (qi ye and princess from gmp), the wind blows from longxi (BAI YU and Chen kun!! Super excited for period drama bai yu)

Heroes

The lotus casebook (cheng yi Joseph zeng)

Immortal Samsara

The Bad Kids (all on youtube rn)

Hikaru no go/qi hun (rewatch... I miss it)

The Rebel (!!!!!)

Shi xiao yi lang - zhu yilong

Bordertown Prodigal - zhu yilong

Reset (modern sci fi!!)

Killer and Healer

Empress Ki

Marvelous Women (I need to look into reviews first)

Legend of Yunqian

Legend of Yunze, and it's special

Master Wait a Moment

Dear Diary (teen fiction come to life!)

My Girlfriends Boyfriend (wu xie tlt2 2 comedy)

The Bond (intense, bai yu leads)

My Roommates a Detective (need to finish)

Ice Fantasy (which I'm loving), and Ice Fantasy Destiny (sequel)

Fall in love (guy from Goodbye My princess)

Our times (I'm on ep 4, bromance with wu xie and li cus actors??)

Crime crackdown

Ice fantasy (ma tianyu!!!) - UPDATE I'm mid watching this and it's not perfect, but I kind of love it and it's specific way of doing stuff I love. And I prefer it eons over Eternal Love. So many plot setups in this that are my personal favorites, combined with a slightly original take on immortals/realms etc.

Ultimate Note: TLT3 (I have like 10 eps left its my usual ‘can’t get myself to finish anything I like a ton’ lol)

The Lost Tomb 2 part 2

The Lost Tomb Reboot (see above - but positive is its on youtube now so its easier for me to watch and finish)

Killer and Healer (see above - I’m 1/3 through this baby, was waiting for it to finish airing and well IT IS NOW)

Granting You a Dreamlike Life (trash reasons, I just love Zhu Yilong and wanna see the hot mess tbh)

Fairyland Lovers (UPDATE: ep 26, I started this as another ‘practice’ show like gyadl, turns out I actually LOVE this thing with my only critique being I’d have picked much hotter clothes for Bai Yu to wear. This is very much Guardian/Rattan kind of story, I like it a LOT better than Goblin, its mini arcs keep making me cry, its ‘alien’ premise has a much more ‘metaphor for Love and Redemption style heavenly realm/demons’ which while it makes the sci fi kind of ‘handwave’ does make the whole story feel VERY much modern setting fantasy, like Shadowhunters or Buffy which I love, with the flavor of characters with pasts to the kind of degree LaR tended to have with some many centuries/millenia old players and potentially reincarnation involved which is interesting to see executed in a modern-fantasy cdrama. In short I didn’t expect to love this but I am binging now it so).

Rattan (I love Si Teng, I love both the leads, its mutants/aliens on earth, its very Guardian-esque but with better budget/photography, its clearly my kinda thing I just need time)

Love Me If You Dare (author who wrote the book was recced, and I want to see Wallace Huo act, and I love Sandra Ma)

Journey Across the Night (maybe* - its got Wu Xie from tlt3, I’ve seen it recced as a ‘bromance’ surprisingly, its short?)

Listening Snow Tower

Princess Agents

Princess Silver (Luo Yunxi)

Anti Fraud League (this has no subs so watching practice, but also its actually a bromance a la Killer and Healer vibes, and Xiao Yuliang is in it, its crime solving with some action/matrix vibes and I do appreciate that)

Goodbye My Princess (I miss it, I was halfway through it last time ;-; )

The Wolf (I just... miss them tbh...)

SCI (I hear its kinda a fun hot mess and that is my kinda thing)

Winter Begonia (some... day.... someday... probably not soon - i just realized now this is both historical and lovers from different backgrounds which i’m craving rn, but i remember how sad i was for the wife so...)

Nirvana in Fire (same as above, its just... when can my brain focus on a serious plot that long)

The Sleuth of Ming Dynasty (same as above... it sure is long, can I focus that much...)

Forward Forever (looks gay to the extent maybe hikaru no go was? looks my aesthetic? i’m guessing i will love or hate it)

Mystic Nine (SHOULD be on the list, we will SEE lol)

Secret of the Three Kingdoms (UPDATE: ep 18 and I love this show)

Demon Girl (i’m re-adding this to the list because like Fairyland Lovers, it looks very much ‘my niche preferred story setup’ and as such i’m either going to love it or feel its a fun ‘easy practice’ show)

Three Kingdoms (daddy looking lead >o>, also 95 episodes dang?)

Empresses in the Palace/The Legend of Zhen Huan (been on my to watch forever...)

Novolands Tribes and Empires (more grizzled male lead, maybe like GMP in terms of setting feel?

Novoland Eagle Flag (concubine’s son/princess, maybe more realistic setting feel?)

Jade Palace Lock Heart (update: ep 22, not crack at all tbh?? Its got comedy, political intrigue, terror, suspense, romance, genuinely great characterization and arcs throughout, it is Great - and while its mostly more grounded in its storytelling sometimes it does some wacky stuff or dream sequences which is a fun way to break the tension/seriousness/groundedness for a little while)

The Scarlet Heart (now i want to compare this to jplh, but also hella confused because its like... the same time period and time traveller too... was jplh a rip off at first?? lol)

Legend of Fragrance (honestly just the fact it might be lovers from different backgrounds, and has 3 actors i adore??? 3???!!)

Wu Xin The Monster Killer (immortal/human, lovers from different bgs, totally my kind of thing, Elvis... need I say more?)

The Myth (time traveler)

Sound of the Desert (nomad girl and prince)

The Eternal Love (Update: ep 10, trying it out, getting a Go Princess Go and Romance of Tiger and Rose vibe so far, so its a silly time)

Legend of the Condor Heroes

Love in Between

Siege in Fog (starcrossed lovers)

Love is Science (update: on the newest episode and its fairly good, i like the subplots but not the main plot much though i appreciate the main lead is divorced because i rarely see that)

the imperial coroner

New Face (my dude from monarch industry!!)

Song of Youth

Lost in 1949* (fu shous actress wan qian with chen kun!!)

Romance of a twin flower (peng xiao ran, novel adaptation)

The Long Night

humans (Update: look idk if this will be everyone’s thing but Ma Tianyi leads it along with a full on superb cast, its so fucking good to me ToT ma tianyi in modern sci fi, constant whump, my fave tropes in sci fi of androids who feel and have shit going on, kick ass women who terrify and are beloved, well Written Sci Fi??? In my Cdrama??? Its less common than it should be but god it finally EXISTS here - and as always, I recommend Bureau of Transformer for those who want excellently written Sci Fi with a Twilight Zone vibe that’s short and sweet and absolutely beloved by me. My point is - please give me more genuine sci fi cdramas T-T)

You are my Glory (diliraba and Yang Yang)

Couple of Mirrors (ITS GREAT)

The Longest Day in Chang’an (hot man)

DETECTIVE SAMOYEDS (like x files)

Novoland pearl eclipse (recced)

Monarch Industry/The Rebel Princess (recced!)

The Killer is Also Romantic

Her Royal Highness

My Sassy Princess (crystal yuan)

Who Rules the World (yang yang)

Story of Yanxi Palace (recced!)

Unforgettable Love (wei zheming qi ye from word of honor)

Under the skin - tan jianci, started and love it so far.

kdramas:

The Guest (when will I have time to finish!!!??? Exactly my kinda thing!!)

Psychopath Diary (same as above: when will I have the time to finish I have 4 eps left ;-; )

Hotel Del Luna (recced to me, I trust y’all when u tell me this will be my kinda thing, also its got supernatural stuff which I’m into - watching now, very much my kind of thing!)

Its Ok to Not Be Ok (looks? like my kind of thing?)

Crash Landing On You (UPDATE: FINISHED, ok I GET why this scriptwriter is so loved? I am absolutely craving love stories about people from very different backgrounds, Especially if its also got historical or realism elements, and I love how this show really establishes settings as distinct and their own, as part of a character’s background, and the plot itself so far is so good???)

You Who Came From The Stars (probably the only ‘fluff’ romance on here, because it was recced so I wanna give it a chance, and aliens is a plus)

Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding (so was it good? who’s seen it???)

To My Star (heard good things, but also heard its a romantic comedy and idk how much fluff i can handle)

Color Rush (hard to find to watch? cool concept)

My Country the new age

Beyond Evil (update: finished this and it was AMAZING I’m still processing)

Mr Sunshine (just added to my list because its historical and a tale of people from different backgrounds falling in love which is what I’m craving rn)

The Sweet Blood (on youtube now, vampires, we’ll see? maybe??)

Chicago Typewriter (past lifes and present?! Yes sign me up)

Arthdal chronicles (it’s on Netflix, a few seasons? The meaningless art’s vids on YouTube are 100% why I want to see it, also it’s historical fantasy!!)

Mr Queen (scared about the ending but... but...IT HAS MY BOY FROM CRASH LANDING ON YOU)

Sell your haunted house (recced)

The Crowned Clown (recced, my boy from beyond evil) - started and don't know if I'll finish. The acting was good but the plot is very traditional in a way.

Scholar that walks the night (hot vampire??)

Chimera

The kings affection - stopped watching, acting was great but plot was not doing anything special.

Tomorrow - LOVE it so far.

Some upcoming bl historical...

Semantic Error

jdramas:

Kieta Hatsukoi (I just started and already recommend it!)

Death Note Musical (a play not a show but I need to witness this as a death note fan)

Death Note drama (UPDATE: ep 3. It is... like watching an au...)

Nier: Automata Stage Play (there’s actually a few, and i love nier automata ;-; )

Life as a Girl (recced)

Cherry Magic (I need. to finish this)

A Man Who Defies the World of BL (UPDATE: so this was amazing, was pure joy to watch, the lead really was great at carrying the feel, short and just fun)

Ossan’s Love (recced)

Alice in Borderlands (my dude is in it!!)

Rinsho Hanzai Gakusha Himura Hideo no Suiri (UPDATE: ep 2, this is pretty good so far? also it has a very distinct aesthetic it really reminds me of like... almost an 80s-90s Detective show with some noir vibes)

Miss Sherlock (1 i forgot this was a thing!!!)

Pornographer, Mood Indigo (i believe these two are connected? i’ve heard good things about them)

Rurouni Kenshin (2012), Kyoto Inferno (2014), The Legend Ends (2014), The Final, The Beginning.

Junkyouju Takatsuki Akira no Suisatsu (recced, vaguely reminds me of Guardian so it's definitely a to watch!!)

Mini Movie Rec List:

Happy together wong kar-wai

East Palace, West Palace 1996

The Lover 1992

The Bride With White Hair (i feel like i’ve been recced this before)

A Chinese Ghost Story

A frozen flower

The Night Beyond the Tricordered Window

On Drakon

#to watch #rant #mejo me #rec list #this isnt a rec list so much of wtf is on my own to watch/currently watching list #i havent touched shows much of may since i was reading/playing games pretty much only #i wanted to make this cause. i have never had so many kdramas or jdramas i wanted to check out before

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hanaridulsetcheese · 3 years

Text

i found you

a song of achilles x red, white and royal blue crossover.

In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.

Years passed, actually centuries passed after the death of Achilles and his lover Patroclus. The souls of the lovers drifted aimlessly in an unknown void, so close yet so far away from each other. Fate never wanted them to be together, no matter how hard the two fought, it was just never enough.

Suddenly, at the dawn of a new eon, hope seemed to spark as the souls gravitated towards each other, a distant force seemed to have had mercy on them after the eons they spent unable to be together.

"Be reborn. " it spoke as the souls vanished, "Be happy. "

~~~

Henry and Alex stood hand in hand as they waved at the paparazzi from the steps of their plane. The two boys were on their way to Greece as representatives for both the British and American embassy. The paparazzi were still as crazy about the two boys now as they were at the beginning of their relationship, multiple cameras flashed as the boys waved one last time before finally entering the plane.

"Are we really that popular? " Alex plopped himself down on the fine leather seat of the plane, propping his feet up on Henry's lap who sat opposite to him.

"Everyone loves gays in power. " Henry replied.

The flight to Greece was smooth and quicker than the two had excepted it to be. It was already the peak of dusk as they got of the plane. The smell of the Aegean sea air immediately relaxed the boys as they looked forward to their week on the lush island of Delos.

"Greetings Mr. Diaz, Prince Henry. My name is Chiron and I will be taking care of you both during your visit here. " a tall, lean man met them as they got of the plane. His long and curly hair fluttered gracefully in the breeze of the late afternoon. The man extended a broad hand towards them and they took turns shaking his hand. "I trust that your flight here was smooth? "

"Indeed, it was. " Henry agreed.

"Splendid. You both must be famished after the flight so we will take you straight to your hotel when you can have dinner and an early night. " Chiron gestured for the two men behind him to take the luggage from the boys before leading them to an SUV.

During the ride to the hotel, Chiron listened as the two boys marvelled over the passing scenery. Despite the dark of the night the beauty of Greece still shone bright, captivating the boys as they looked around.

Alex was staring to his right hand side at the beach when there was a sudden force that drew towards the left. A row of white Greek columns lined the area, forming a barrier around something that Alex felt lured to.

"Chiron, what's inbetween those columns? " Alex kept his eyes glued to the columns until they drove past it. Henry glanced back to see what Alex was looking at before turning to Chiron to hear what he had to say.

"Those protect the graves and memorials of the soliders who fought during the Trojan War. Among them is the memorial site of the famous Greek hero, Achilles, himself. " Chiron glanced at Alex through the review mirror.

"The memorial site of Achilles? " Alex mumbled before looking back at the columns again, the last column no longer in his sight as they drove further away.

"You okay? " Henry placed a gentle arm over Alex's who just nodded his head and stared back at the beach, lost in his thoughts.

Henry decided that Alex might just be jet lagged and decided to leave him be, keeping his hand interlocked with Alex's for the rest of the car ride.

~~~

It's been three days since the couple arrived in Greece and it had been hectic. They were piled with work as soon as the work up the on the first day, they're schedule packed for almost every minute.

Since the two had to work at different embassies, they saw each other for breakfast and dinner, lunch was usually spent in their respective temporary work places.

As the days past by, Alex had forgotten about the grave of Achilles he'd seen the second they were handed their work. He'd only seen books during the past three days. There was absolutely no time to go out and visit the island of Delos they were on.

However, hard work and determination did prevail as Alex managed to finish his work ahead of schedule and was now free to roam the streets of Delos as he waited for Henry to complete his work.

Walking through a little market alleyway, Alex took in the sight of the locals as they went about their daily lives. They talked, laughed and just enjoyed each other's company, greeting each other enthusiastically as they passed and Alex found himself smiling to himself. He loved the social, carefree nature the Greeks had.

The place was small, innocent and friendly. It was something Alex grew to like during his days in Greece, it was definitely a huge contrast to his life back home.

"Young man, may I offer you a sample of figs? " a friendly old lady held out a platter with the ripest figs Alex had ever seen. He gratefully accepted the offer and poped a fig in his mouth, the fresh flavour exploded, filling his tastebuds with the grainy sweetness of it's juices.

Maybe he was overwhelmed with the sweetness of the fig or he was simply just exhausted from all the work he'd done the past couple of days but as he finished the fruit, he felt his hand reach out for more of the fruit. Each bite he took, a familiar yet foreign feeling took over him.

The old lady watched in delight as the First Son inhaled the fruits one after the other until the plate was cleared.

"You sure seem to like the figs, my boy. " she handed him a tissue to wipe the juice that he didn't even know had trailed down his arm.

"It seems so. I'd never ate anything quite like it before, yet it felt so familiar to me. " Alex looked at the crate of figs that sat on the stand behind her, "Could I please buy some? "

Alex made his way back to the hotel happily with his packet of figs bumping against his legs as he walked. He didn't expect Henry to be in the room as he walked in. The British boy eyed him sceptically as he shut the door behind him.

"What'd you bring? " Henry's voice was thick with exhaustion. He was laid back against the headboard with a book spread open on his lap. Alex jumped onto the bed and showered his tired boyfriend with little pecks all over his face, giggling as he did so.

"I brought you some figs. " Alex said once Henry finally got him to calm down. "It's the best thing you'll ever taste, I swear. " Alex handed the little fruit to Henry and watched eagerly as he bit into the fruit. The bliss that struck Henry's face as the sweetness burst in his mouth made Alex satisfied.

Together, they sat on their bed and devoured the fruit while talking about their day and their time in the beautiful land of Greece. Before they hd realised it, they had come down to the last fig in the packet.

"Catch." Henry tossed the last fig to Alex. Alex felt like he watched the fig in slow motion as it formed a perfect arc before landing into the cup of his palms, soft and slightly warm.

For some reason, Alex had felt like he'd just experienced deja vu. A blured image formed in his head. He found himself looking at a table full of boys however, Alex seemed to only foucs on a specific one.

They sat on opposite ends of the table, everyone's attention was on a boy who was devouring a bowl of figs in front of him. The aura around the boy seemed to draw Alex towards him, making him unable to remove his eyes from the boy.

Suddenly, the boy diverted his gaze from the fruit to Alex who wasn't quick enough to look away. Softly, with a quick flick of his wrist the boy tossed the fig towards Alex, "Catch. "

"Alex? " Henry called out to the dazed boy.

"Huh? What? " Alex focused on Henry who gave him a concerned gaze.

"Are you feeling okay? " Henry placed the back of his hand to Alex's forehead, "You've been acting strange ever since we arrived in Greece. "

"I-I really don't know. I keep getting this feeling like- I don't know, deja vu? " Alex rubbed his temples, "I keeping thinking about those columns we passed the other day. "

"Do you want to go and visit it? " Henry offered.

"I don't think we'd have the time for that. " Alex placed his hand over Henry's and gave him a smile, "It's alright though, I'd much rather spend my time with you. "

That night, as Alex slept soundly it was Henry's turn to think about those columns. Alex had talked about it a few times since they'd got there and Henry couldn't help but want to take him there. He'd do anything for Alex.

Sending a message to Chiron, Henry requested day off for the next day saying that he had something urgent to take care of before snaking his arms around Alex's sleeping body, slipping of to sleep.

The next morning Henry awoke earlier than Alex as usual and prepared himself for the day ahead before waking up his sleeping lover.

Alex peaked at Henry through the half opened lids of his eyes and gave him a toothy grin. He puckered his lips like a fish, demanding his daily morning kiss. "Not with your morning breath, mister. " Henry pulled Alex out of bed and told him to get dressed without any further information before leaving the room.

When Alex had met up with Henry at the lobby of the hotel, they were escorted out by a friendly local who drove them to their destination which Henry still refused to tell Alex about.

After what felt like hours, they finally pulled up to the place that had been on Alex's mind since the beginning on their trip.

"The memorial of Achilles? " Alex marveled at the tall Greek columns that towered over them, all arranged protectively around multiple, marble tombs.

They walked with interlocked hands along the path, acknowledging all the soldiers that fought during the Trojan War. Multiple flowers lined the banks of the tombs along with notes written by locals who were still grateful for the war they fought.

At the very center of the memorial stood the grandest marble tomb, it's surface gleamed in the sunlight as if heaven itself was acknowledging the memorial. Alex dropped Henry's hand and walked aimlessly towards the tomb.

"I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. " Alex ran his hands along the tomb of Achilles.

"I would know him in death, at the end of the world. " Alex's voice was now barely above a whisper.

"Alex, what are you saying? " Henry placed an arm on the boys shoulder.

Alex turned to him, tears glazed his eyes and threatened to spill as he stared back at Henry. The deep brown eyes of Alex stared longingly at Henry's as if he hadn't seen them before. It felt as if the person looking at Henry was not just Alex, but for some reason be still felt connected to that person.

"I have found you, my love. " Alex said. "Achilles, we can be happy now. "

Henry finally understood what was happening, it was as if all the mysteries in the world finally became clear. "Patroclus, we found each other. "

#song of achilles #red white and royal blue #RWRB #SoA #alex #henry #Achilles #patroclus #greek #greek hero #greek mythology #trojan war #red white and royal blue x song of achilles #crossover #fanfiction #booktok

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poopunderstander · 3 years

Text

i am probably the 5000th person to write Dean teaching Cas to drive but i did it anyway and i'm here to make it your problem

"Cas, who is living after death in the body of a man so devout he offered his whole self to the possession of God’s soldier, knows that the machine he’s sitting in is a part of the strange, ardent little faith Dean practices, a religion with three apostles, a virgin, and no god. Sitting here with Dean’s hand on his own, sweating and shaking at the helm of this unholy ark, he feels blasphemous."

2.4k words, destiel, PG/teen&up, no warnings except for a lot of geology talk at the start

link on ao3

Approximately 550 million years before what Castiel currently knows as the present day, two enormous sheets of earth collided in a dying ocean. The continent of Laurentia met with an arc of volcanic islands, and, finding itself unequal to their fury, folded downward beneath the sapping crust of the Iapetus Ocean. Over millennia, as Heaven watched, the earth and water consumed each other, leaving a thick scar of mountains, to be worn away in turn by new millennia of wind and ice and fire.

That was the Age of Fishes. Later, much later, humans climbed into the valleys in between the hills, to fish and hunt and build, and when they buried their dead they painted the graves with red earth, infinitesimal new scars over the old tectonic suture.

Castiel remembers all this—can feel it in the ground under his vessel’s feet, here in what Dean Winchester calls central Maine. They’re standing on glacial till deposited in the last ice age, and below them are the grains of sand from the Iapetus Ocean that became mudstone and siltstone, then pelite and shale and Silurodevonian granite. Twenty-five miles beneath Castiel lies a layer of Precambrian gneiss, a sheet of ancient dust pressed into solid stone nearly four billion years ago, when the ocean was wide and God himself wasn’t that old. That stone, Castiel knows, is Earth’s oldest shield: the last solid barrier between humanity and the planet’s molten core. He thinks about this as he watches Dean load guns into the trunk of his car, his boots planted in soft red earth carried here 10,000 years ago by a river of ice.

“Ready?” Dean says, turning back to face Cas.

Castiel thinks about the God who watched the continents form, who watched the planet eat itself a thousand times and heal a thousand more, the God who Castiel knows once wasn’t dead. He looks at Dean, who knows none of this and came with him anyway to trap an archangel on earth, and thinks: How could I be?

“Yes,” he says.

“Wait,” Dean says. “Let me get this right. You can fly, right—you can teleport—but you can’t drive a car?”

They’re sitting in the empty parking lot of an ice cream shop, across the road from St. Peter’s Hospital. Dean drove them here after they left the house of prostitution, to wait for the sun to rise and the meeting with Raphael to “go down.” Castiel, still caught up in the pangs of regret and panic he brought away from the bar, has spent his last hours on earth contemplating the profound and mundane limits of his earthly knowledge.

“I thought she would appreciate the information,” he told Dean, trying to create in words a world in which he didn’t ruin Dean’s terrifying act of kindness, and Dean laughed and said, “Oh, dude, big mistake.”

“I don’t think I understand women,” Castiel said then, and Dean threw back his head and laughed, and Castiel felt a portion of the darkness inside him evaporate.

Dean started quizzing him after that, asking about things he’s done, talking about something he calls a “bucket list.” Castiel doesn’t know what the bucket is for, but Dean’s apparently contains people and places and food: a musician named Springsteen in Concert, the Chevrolet Hall of Fame in Decatur, the 1,800 pound burger at Mallie’s Sports. He asks Castiel if he’s ever been to the Grand Canyon, and Castiel tells him he witnessed its creation. Dean says okay, but did you ever hike it, and Castiel has to shake his head.

It’s in this way that Dean learns that Castiel has never driven a car—a fact which Cas thinks shouldn’t surprise him, but it does. They’re sitting on the hood of the car together, gazing out across Highwood Avenue at the glowing windows of the hospital, and Dean twists his whole body around to face Cas, telegraphing his shock.

“Why would I,” Cas points out. “I’ve never had the need.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, “but—dude, what if somebody, like, zaps your wings? What’re you gonna do, huh, take a bus?”

Cas shrugs. “Probably. I think it’s far more likely that Raphael will kill me outright.”

He sees a flicker of pain cross Dean’s face; this conversation made him uncomfortable before. Castiel wonders about that. “I’m not talking about that,” he says. “I just meant—hypothetically. In a hypothetical world where you get your angel mojo un-mojoed, or whatever, you’d just—buy a bus ticket?”

Castiel isn’t sure what he’s admitting to, here. He thought bus travel was common. “I suppose.”

“Jesus,” Dean says, turning back to face the hospital. “That’s just wrong.”

They’re silent for a moment, spinning in their own private worlds. The lights are off inside the ice cream shop—it’s nearly dawn, and nobody buys ice cream at dawn—but the lamps above the Dairy Queen sign are blazing, and Castiel is watching the yellow light flow over Dean’s head and shoulders as he leans back on the hood of his car, still warm from the engine’s labor. Even now, looking at Dean’s body is like looking at a miracle. Castiel wonders if he’s aware that he’s the only thing in Waterville, Maine born entirely of God’s will.

“Listen,” Dean says suddenly, breaking the silence. “I don’t know what it’s gonna be like in there. I know you said—well, I know what you said. But I think,” he says, puffing up with that bizarre confidence he always seems to pull from nowhere, “I think we’re gonna make it. And if I’m right, if we do—” He turns to look at Cas again, a grin dawning across his face. “If we do, I’m gonna teach an angel of the lord to drive stick.”

Castiel has no idea why—he’s not quite sure what those words in that order mean—but this thought seems to give Dean hope. Castiel doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t have a human soul, that thing that seems to trap hope so unfailingly it feels like a flaw in the design.

The sun is feet from the eastern horizon.

“Okay,” he tells Dean.

Twenty-five miles north of Waterville is a town called Canaan. When colonists first settled on the banks of the Kennebec, they used the native word for the place they built: Wesserunsett. Not long after, though, deciding that that long name was not worth the labor of speaking or writing it, they looked at the bright green fields laid all around their stolen home, imagined a similarly verdant place of rest waiting for them at life’s end, and named the new town after the Promised Land.

Canaan, of course, looks nothing like Heaven, really. Heaven is vast and multidimensional; Canaan is a ten-room motel, two grocery stores, and two churches along the length of US Highway 2. But outside Canaan, between the highway and the lake, is a wide field of grass and purple violets, which Dean pronounces “perfect.” He pulls off the road into the field, and Castiel feels the solid, assuring weight of asphalt give way to the uncertainty of earth.

“Okay,” Dean says. He gets out of the car, and motions for Castiel to do the same. Cas does, turning cautiously to scan the field around them.

“There’s no road here,” he points out. He’s never tried it before, but he always assumed that a road was essential to driving.

“That’s the point,” Dean says. “You can’t start on the road, you’re gonna get yourself killed. Gotta start where there’s nothing to run into.” He gestures at the expanse around them. “Like so. That’s how my dad taught me.”

Dean doesn’t talk about his father. Castiel has noticed. He’s never seen John Winchester; tries to imagine Dean as a child, standing in a field like this with the man who withstood one hundred years of Hell. He can’t picture it. But then, imagination has never come easily to him.

“Come on,” Dean says, waving a hand for Cas to come around the car. Castiel obeys, walking around to the open driver’s seat as Dean circles to where Cas just was. They both sit down inside, pulling the doors shut, and Dean says, “Okay. So. Let’s start at the beginning.”

He talks Cas through the controls of the car, laying his hand on the dashboard as he talks, identifying the levers and pedals and dials with gentle, nearly reverent touches, watching Castiel’s face to make sure that he’s taking it all in. Castiel tries to concentrate, thinks he understands what he’s being told, but he has no place to anchor this information. That’s the clutch, Dean says, and Castiel nods and thinks, clutch, and thinks about gripping Dean tight. The clutch.

“You got it?” Dean asks. Castiel doesn’t feel he has anything.

“Of course.”

Dean beams. Cas can’t find it in himself to regret the lie.

“Go ahead and put your hands on the wheel,” Dean says. This turns out to be more complicated than Castiel anticipated. He does it wrong, apparently, the first time, because Dean frowns and says, “No, you gotta—ten o’clock and two o’clock, Cas,” and when Cas asks what that means Dean says to picture a clock, and Castiel doesn’t see what relevance that has to driving a car. In the end, Dean takes Castiel’s hands in both of his, and puts them onto the steering wheel in the right position. He sits back in satisfaction, nodding.

“Okay. Okay.” Castiel’s heart is pounding like a hummingbird’s. It’s not the same fear he felt last night. He doesn’t know what it is. Dean tells him where to put his feet, says okay, clutch first, keep it in neutral, and Cas pushes down with what was once Jimmy Novak’s left foot and then his right, feels the engine rumble to life, and lets go when Dean says okay, now.

He breaks the car. Or, that’s what it feels like at first: a heavy, surely cataclysmic crash of machinery that throws both of them back against the seat. He sees Dean grimace and gets ready to apologize, but Dean just says, “Okay, kind of rough start, but that’s fine—try it again.”

“I’m not sure I should,” Cas says. It sounded like the engine cracked. He thinks Dean may have underestimated his ignorance here. But Dean says no, try again, so Cas puts his feet back on the pedals and focuses every particle of his celestial consciousness on easing the pressure on and off in perfect unison the way Dean tells him, hands rigid at ten and two on the clock-wheel, and the four thousand pounds of steel beneath them roll approximately ten inches over the grass before Castiel’s focus falters, and the engine grinds to another explosive, neck-wrenching halt.

“You suck at this,” Dean says. His patience as an instructor, apparently, has been exhausted.

“Of course I suck at this,” Cas says, hearing the panic in his own voice. “I’m an angel.”

He expects the lesson to be over then—clearly, he isn’t going to learn this—but Dean just chuckles instead, caught up in another burst of unearned optimism, and says, “Try it again, little slower this time.”

For half an hour, Cas jolts the car in short, violent circles around the field, struggling to follow Dean’s directions and feeling sweat build up on his palms and the back of his shirt. The longest he’s able to drive in one smooth line lasts about one minute and forty-five seconds, long enough for Dean to lose his look of consternation and break out in a grin, raising his hands in celebration just as Cas accidentally pushes down on the wrong pedal and sends them screeching to a halt.

“Hey,” Dean says, once he’s recovered from the physical shock, “at least you’re getting better.”

“I’m not,” Cas tells him. He can feel an odd, nauseous constriction at the back of his throat; he wonders if it’s possible for a being that doesn’t eat or digest to vomit. “I’m not good at this, Dean. I won’t be good at this.”

“Listen,” Dean says, “if Sam could learn, so can you.”

“Sam’s very intelligent.”

“And you’re not?”

“Sam’s human.”

“Since when does that matter?” Dean asks.

Cas stares at him. Of course it matters. It’s always mattered. “I don’t know how,” he says. His hands are shaking.

“Hey,” Dean says, “hey.” He reaches over and lays his hand over Castiel’s, still on the steering wheel. His skin is warm and callused. Castiel feels the blood vessels in his cheeks and neck dilating.

“I’m sorry,” he tells Dean. He knows, without quite understanding, that what they’re doing is important to Dean, somehow, and he’s fucked it up. He did the same last night, with the woman whose name wasn’t Chastity, whose father loved her in the same unknowable way that Dean’s father loved him. He didn’t want to do it again. Cas, who is living after death in the body of a man so devout he offered his whole self to the possession of God’s soldier, knows that the machine he’s sitting in is a part of the strange, ardent little faith Dean practices, a religion with three apostles, a virgin, and no god. Sitting here with Dean’s hand on his own, sweating and shaking at the helm of this unholy ark, he feels blasphemous.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“You can do this, Cas,” Dean says. “Look, I get you’re, like, superpowered, or whatever, I know you don’t need to. But did you ever think—maybe it’s just been a really long time since you learned something new?” He pauses, frowning, searching for the right words. “I don’t care if you can’t drive, man,” he says finally. “But I know you can learn. Right? I believe in you, Cas.”

Twelve hours ago, Dean stood side by side with Cas in the light of Raphael’s wings and heard him say that God died centuries ago. Dean heard it, and told Cas to go looking anyway.

Cas looks at him, at the freckles scattered over his nose, the serious little pinch between his brows, the soft ghost of a smile on his face even though Cas has surely damaged his car by now, even though God is dead and his neck must hurt and Sam’s taking a vacation from being Dean’s brother, the other half of his world. Dean looks back at him, raises his eyebrows, and grins.

“One more time?”

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #castiel

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howlingday · 4 years

Text

THE DRAGON-SLAYER

"Aaaaaaah~! Another boring mission complete!" Yang Xiao Long yawned as she walked down the road through the forest. It was still about a day's trip until she returned to the guild hall. She was hoping for some more action, but eh, what could you do? "Least I got to try out that new move I was working on."

Yang couldn't wait to get back and rub it in her sister's face that she completed an B Ranked mission by herself without any help, something Ruby had yet to accomplish. B Ranked or not, though, it was still boring.

She slung her bag forward and fished around until she pulled out the poster to look over it again. It featured a terrifying looking bear on the illustration, with the words "TERROR BEAR" emboldened on the bottom. Yang scoffed as she crumpled the poster and shoved it back into her bag.

"Terror wuss is more like it." She looked to the sky and noticed the sun was blazing overhead through the trees, and she was grateful for the protection it offered. Tanning was fine, but a sunburn was the last thing she wanted. Well, a sunburn and another awful mission.

A rustle in the bushes caught her attention, causing her to stop and step into a combative stance. After that last dud of a fight, she was itching for a real fight.

If she wanted to fight a bunny, that is. A small, brown bunny hopped out, sniffing the dirt in the road, hoping to find roots or whatever rabbits ate out here.

"Aw!" Yang cooed as she squatted. "Well, aren't you just the cutest? I wish I had a carrot for ya, but I'm all out. I hope you're not- HOPPING mad about that!" Yang fell on her back and rolled around laughing, kicking her feet at her own joke. The rabbit gave a deadpan expression and jumped back into the bush. "What? Was it not a good pun? C'mon, be honest! No need to- beat around the BUSH!" Yang fell into another fit of laughter.

She sighed, then poked her head into the bush to look for the rabbit. It must have ran through it because the bush was empty. Yang stood up to see where her furriest critic ran off to.

The forest was dense with trees, tall grass, and bushes. It was alive with deer, butterflies, and songbirds. Yang smiled at the view. She wished she could see something as beautiful as this every day.

Looking closer, she spotted a waterfall crashing in the distance. She reached for her flask and gave it a shake. Not empty, but also not full. No harm in a refill.

Another thought came as she lifted her arm higher and took a quick whiff of herself. "Urp! Yeah, a shower wouldn't hurt, either!"

Yang stepped over the bush and deeper into the treeline. She stepped carefully around the barbed vines growing in the tall grass, and waved away at the biting insects that also called this forest home. In a few moments, she reached her destination at the beautiful, glistening blue pond, complete with a crashing waterfall.

"Any perverts out there?" Yang dropped her bag and looked behind her; then to her left; then to the right. "Alright then. Either you're quiet, or you're not there. Either way," Yang took off her yellow jacket, "don't bother me."

"Aaaaaah! I'm so lost!" Jaune Arc was lost. Scratch that; lost implied he had no idea where he was, and he did know. He was in a forest. What he didn't know was where the nearest town was.

He had been wandering through this forest for days, but he always makes a wrong turn every time he reaches a split path. Right now, though, he was out of the treeline and following creekbed. He really wished his mom was here; she knew all about directions.

'No! Stop it! You're a big boy now, Jaune. Big boys don't need their moms!' Jaune's stomach growled. 'But what I wouldn't give for a hot meal right about now.'

Jaune looked to the sky. No clouds, which meant no rain, which meant only Sun for another few days, which meant more wandering around in the blistering heat. Jaune wasn't normally one for cursing things, but for the Sun, he was willing to make an exception.

The creekbed flowed with water, about ankle-deep, and Jaune was banking on this crystal-clear cascade flowed to a town water-wheel. Hopefully the water-wheel was attached to a house with food, like grilled fish, or a tasty pie. He could almost smell it now! He sniffed the air and it smelled like...

Coconut?

What were coconuts doing in the forest? Did coconuts grow in forests? No, that's not what his mom taught him. Coconuts grow on islands in the middle of the ocean. But weren't continents technically giant islands? He'd have to ask his mom later, but for now, he followed the scent.

Jaune almost walked off a cliff, and found the creek led to a glistening waterfall. At the bottom, where the waterfall pooled, Jaune saw a girl scrubbing her hair. Maybe she knew the way to town!

"Excuse me!" Jaune caught her attention. "Do you know the way to town?" Oh, neat! She was a wizard, too; and a pretty strong one at that, if the incantation circle told him anything.

"FIRE MAGIC: FIRECRACKER!" Yang blasted a set of five fireballs at her peeping tom. What was this guy's deal?! Didn't he know better than to sneak up on a girl in the shower?! Once her spell was cast, she bolted from the water, it's cool temptations dragging her in more than the actual water resistance. She toweled off and quickly put her clothes on. Once her jacket was on, however, the pervert was already halfway towards her! How does a creep like that move so fast?! And without so much as a scorch mark on him?!

He was clearly a powerful wizard, probably as strong as Uncle Qrow! She got into a combative stance as he stopped. He reached his hand out, probably in an attempt to grab her.

"Hi, I'm-"

"FIRE MAGIC: BOTTLE-ROCKET!" Yang launched herself away while simultaneously hurling three fireballs at her pursuer; much larger ones than her previous attack. Yet again, however, he shrugged it off like it was nothing! She might have to resort to punching the creep, but she wasn't going to rush in without thinking before doing that. "Okay; who are you, creep? You from a dark guild, or something?"

"A dark guild?" He gave her a confused look. Clearly, he was playing the ignorant and innocent card. It wasn't going to work on her. "No, I'm not from any guild. I'm Jaune Arc, from Argus."

"Argus? Across the water of the other side of the continent?"

"Yeah, have you heard of it?"

"Uh, only from what one of the other guild members told me. She said she grew up there."

"Oh, really? What's her name?" His smile did little to ease her fears. This guy was dangerous, and that was the only thing she knew about him besides his name and hometown.

"I'll answer you if you answer me, deal?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, sure."

"Okay, then, first question: why were you spying on me?"

"Uh, I wasn't spying on you."

"Then why were you on top of the waterfall?" Yang cracked her fingers, ready to launch another fire attack.

"I got lost, so I was just following the stream." He looked behind him towards the waterfall. "I was kind of hoping to find a water-wheel."

"A water-wheel? In the middle of the forest?"

"Yeah, I mean, it isn't the craziest thing I've heard of."

Yang looked him up and down. He definitely looked like an adventurer. He was wearing a plate mail cover on his chest and shoulder; a belt with a canteen and a pouch attached; and he was wearing a leather backpack over both shoulders. "Uh, can I ask you something?"

Yang blinked. "Uh, I guess."

"Am I in trouble?" Yang deadpanned. What was his first clue, the first attack, the follow-up, or that she was glaring daggers at him while in a combat stance? "Because if I am, I'd like to apologize for anything wrong I did."

"Yeah, no, pal. I don't let peeping toms get away scot-free, y'know?" Her muscles tensed like a coiled spring, ready to burst forward. Nothing was going to stop her from stomping this creep."

"Peeping tom? Were you naked?"

Yang suddenly felt the ground give beneath her, landing on her face. She stood up and nearly breathed fire on him. "Yes, you moron! How else would a girl be under a waterfall?!"

"I don't know. I thought you were doing some kind of monk training."

"Do I look like a monk to you?!" Yang growled, but then sighed. She gave up on this. There was no point. He's not a threat, not while being this stupid. "Look, I need to get back my guild. If I bring you to town, will that be enough for you to leave me alone?"

"Oh, uh, sure, but I didn't know I was bothering you. I'm sorry!"

Yang sighed. "This is going to be a long trip."

"So, you're from Argus?" Yang asked, trying to make small talk.

"Not originally, but I lived there for a while with my sister and her wife and son." Jaune was going to miss Adrien, but he could leech off his family for too long. He had to go out and make something of himself, like that girl who left before he showed up. What was her name Pina Nolada, or something? "I'm trying to find a guild to join."

"Where'd you live before that?"

"I was kind of wandering around for a little while."

"You didn't live anywhere?"

"Not since my mom left." Yang made a pained face. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just..." Yang sighed. "My mom left when I was young, too. My dad raised me and my sister all on his own."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." Jaune felt a sympathetic sadness from hearing this; or maybe it was empathetic? In either case, Jaune made her feel sad, so he should cheer her up. "Hey, uh, check this out!"

Yang looked over to see Jaune pull the large sheath from his side. With the click of a button, the sheath expanded into a shield. Yang's eyes were wide with surprise.

"Wow," she said, "that's gotta be heavy!"

"Uh, yeah, it kind of is," Jaune groaned, "but it's a handy tool! I can block just about anything with it!"

"What about my fireballs?"

"Your what?"

"My fireballs. The magic I was shooting at you?"

Jaune's eyes went wide this time. "You were shooting magic at me?!"

"Uh, yeah, why?"

"Oh, um, don't take this the wrong way, but-" Luckily, Jaune's comment was cut off by a cry of terror. Yang must have heard it, too, since she sprinted towards the scream. Jaune returned to the shield to it's sheath form. "Yup, still just as heavy."

"Come on, sweetie; just one little kiss?" The petite girl was overshadowed by the taller, scruffy-faced man towering over her. The tanned skin of his arms were covered in scars, his long, greasy, black hair poured like thick oil from his white bandana on his head. The cackling demon image on the cloth seemed to sneer from it's perch above his brow.

"No! I already told I'm not interested!" The girl's rejection was met with a snapping finger, which signalled the three individuals behind him to continue their work.

The shortest of the trio had pale skin, and long white moustache. He stood no higher than the girl's knees, and seemed to delight in the fact as he passed by her to enter the back room. He began throwing supplies into the lobby, smashing containers and ripping bags while doing so.

The windows were worked over by a flat-nosed woman with round body. She took a deep breath and blew onto the window, melting the glass and the wood in the frame around it. She laughed, causing her belly to jiggle.

The third member, a tall man with dark skin and wearing black shades, placed his hands on the ceiling. He then grunted, flexing as he pushed on the ceiling, tearing it from the walls.

"So..." The scarred man said, grabbing the girl's chin and forcing her to look at him again. "About that kiss?"

The girl trembled. She wanted to look away, but her captor kept an iron grip on her head. She shut her eyes and clenched her jaw, wishing this nightmare would be over. That someone would save her!

"Hello?" Everyone in the room turned to see the blonde woman in the doorway. "Hi! Can I get some snacks for the road? Got a long trip ahead." The woman was followed a more blonde man, who seemed to actually take note of the carnage inside, if his shocked face was any indication. "Is the manager here?"

"Beeeeeeeeeat iiiiiiiiiit, blooooooondiiiiiiiie." the tall man said slowly, drawing the syllables out of every word as he spoke. As he turned to face her, the ceiling and roof over the store spun with him. "Stooooooorrrrrre's clooooooossssssssed."

"Really? Looks open to me." She cocked a smirked. "In fact, I'd say sales are "through the roof!" Eh? Eh?" She finger-gunned at her audience. No one was laughing. "Nothing? Eh, you must be more of a slapstick crowd, huh?"

The large, round woman waddled her way over to would-be comedienne, sneering at her. "Hmph! Such an ugly sense of humor befits a woman such as yourself."

"Huh?" The blonde woman looked up at her critic. "If you don't like it, that's fine, but there's no need to insult my looks."

"Hmph! With ratty locks, and a twig of a shape your form retains, you are hardly fit to be considered a full-figured maiden like moi!"

"Hang on," the blonde man stepped forward now, "Yang's right. You shouldn't be making fun of somebody's looks. Don't you know how rude that is, sir?"

The larger woman flinched, clenching her jaw in anger and grinding her teeth so intensely, you'd think sparks would start flying.

"Jaune," the blonde woman tapped his shoulder, "she's not a man." She whispered.

"Who isn't a man?"

"Hmph! Me!" The rotund madame barked. "I shall gift upon you such a mercy as to repent on your transgressions!"

"Huh?"

"She's telling you to say you're sorry."

"Oh! Uh, I'm sorry I mistook you for a man." Jaune apologized.

"Hmph! As you should be!"

"It's just, you don't look like any woman I've ever seen. To be honest, I thought you were some kind of weird, two-legged boar."

Everyone's jaw dropped. There was dense, and then there was stupid, but this was just downright brainless! Whoever told this guy that "honesty is the best policy" didn't bother to explain little white lies. And from the looks of it, he was going to live to regret it.

The portly woman ground her teeth violently and inhaled so deeply with her nose, she reeled her head back. She then swung forward as an incantation circle appeared behind. "MAIDEN'S KISS!"

A jet of white smoke escaped her mouth as she opened it. The blonde woman jumped out of the way, but the blonde man didn't, choosing instead to lift a white bar up and extend it into a shield. The attack was blocked by the shield, but the white smoke enveloped the man. As it dissipated, the round woman laughed.

"Hmph! Such is the tax of fools who dare question the virtues of a full-figured maiden such as myself!"

The gang of cronies laughed as well, with their leader grinning. These villains weren't going to stop at destroying property, and that suited them just fine. The girl trembled once again as she watched the cloud dissipate into nothing, leaving only a pool of brown sludge where the man stood.

"Phew! That was a close!" A voice said from above. Everyone looked up and saw the man hovering above them and slowly descending. "Good thing you lifted the ceiling, huh, big guy? A foot lower, and I could have been in some real trouble!"

"Hoooooooooooow aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrre yooooooooooou stiiiiiiiiiiiiiilllllllll aaaaaaaaaaaliiiiiiivvvvvvvvvve?"

"Well," the man said, finally touching ground in the goop, "I saw the melted window, but I didn't smell anything like wood burning, so your ability melts, but it doesn't burn. That requires a lot of heat, and heat rises. Decided to hitch a ride with my glide shield."

"Nice one, Jaune!"

"Thanks, Yang!"

"Yang?" The man in the bandana stepped away from the girl. "As in Yang Xiao Long, the Blonde Bombshell Brawler of Dryad's Tears?!"

Yang chuckled as she scratched an itch on her upper lip with her finger. "Oh, so you've heard of me? Well, glad to know I'm famous around here! Now, since you know who I am, why don't you tell me who you are?"

"Gladly." The man tightened the bandana on his head, making the demon image look more impressive. "The name is Zed, "Sin-Eater" Zed of Imp's Delight. And these are my Sons of Sin; "Luster-Loss" Asma; "Star-Grabber" Cin; and "Hoard-Stealer" Nom. We were just passing by when I decided to do some shopping here. Found me a pretty, little doll I like, so I tried to buy her. Unfortunately, the doll's owner didn't like the look of me, so I decided to take it for myself."

"What doll?" The blonde man asked.

"Excuse me?"

"What doll? This looks more like a farm supply store. I don't think they sell dolls here."

"Not normally, hehehehe, but this little peach right here is just ripe for the taking, hehehehe!" The short man said through giggling, grabbing for the girl with his prehensile moustache. She jumped away, only to end up in a corner. "Now, now, dear! No need to be fussy!"

"No! Stay away! No! No!" The girl cried as the hairs of his moustache wrapped around her legs. Nom cackled as he stepped closer.

"There's no point trying to break free, my dear! My hairs are so full, not even a charging rhino could break through! So just let me have some-"

SWISH!

Nom looked down from the girl's terrified face to her legs where his hairs fell limp. He continued down until he found a break in the line between his facial hairs and their end point.

"I don't know what you people think you're doing," Jaune spoke through gritted teeth, "but a person is a person, not some toy or a piece of fruit." He turned his head and faced Nom, his eyes burning with a blue flame. "Now get the hell out of this store!" Jaune kicked Nom in the face, knocking him out and sending him flying into the wall.

Jaune turned towards the girl and knelt down. "Are you okay, miss? Can you walk?" The girl shook her head to recover, then nodded. "Good. I need you to leave. Go find a friend and stay with them for a while. We'll take care of the guys here. Okay?" The girl nodded again, then ran for the exit. The ceiling shifted overhead.

"Whoooooooooo saaaaaaaaaid yoooooooou coooooould leeeeeeeeavvvvve?" Cin drawled as he shifted his weight to throw the ceiling down.

"I did, bub" Yang shouted as she leapt into his face, "because this party hasn't even started yet, so I need you to keep raising the roof for now!" Yang punched Cin so hard, he staggered, but never fell. "Heh, tough guy, huh?"

"Hmph!" Asma grabbed Yang in a bear hug. "Such a fragile harlot need not concern herself with the whims and wishes of much more fragile harlots! MAIDEN'S KI-!"

"Oh, no you don't! FIRE MAGIC: STRAWBERRY SUNRISE" Yang's entire body glowed in a brilliant golden light as her hair shone like the Sun and her eyes became a flawless ruby red. Not only bright, but hot, too! So hot that Asma stopped her initial attack to let go of Yang, who took advantage of this recoil and launched another attack. "FIRE MAGIC: EMBER BURST!" Yang used both hands to launch a massive fireball twice her size to engulf Asma, sending her flying across the road as the rescued girl escaped.

"Cin! Drop the damn roof on her already!" The giant responded by doing so, a rain of splinters and wood shavings fluttering down as it comes crashing down.

"Hey, Jaune!" Jaune looked to Yang. "Keep your eyes on me!" Yang took a deep breath. "FIRE MAGIC: I BURN!" Yang's entire body, once a shining light, erupted into a now veritable burning star. She stood her ground as she caught it, the wood between her fingers scorching into cinders as she lifted it high above her head, then slammed it back down onto the now crumbling tower. Yang smirked as her flames died, having only one thought as the dust slowly settled. 'I never could stop myself from showing off in front of the boys, huh, Rubes?'

Jaune coughed and blinked as the scent of burning wood and sawdust invaded his senses. It gave him mixed feelings; a combination of warmth and happiness from bonfires with his mother, and dread as it was a bonfire that led to her disappearance.

Jaune waved away the smoke and coughed when a cloud chose his mouth as a suitable home. The coughing led to hacking, and the sawdust decided to invite friends over for a housewarming party. "Water," he cried with a dry voice, "I need water!"

Suddenly a vortex formed a few yards away from him, drawing all the dust and small debris away. Jaune felt the vacuum draw on his clothes, but luckily he was too heavy to be swept away. As he looked closer, he saw a green magic incantation circle rotate at the point where the vortex drew everything in. The wind died, and sunlight returned to blind Jaune.

In front of him, stood Zed, a cocky grin on his face. "I don't know who you are, kid, but I suggest you run. Nobody's ever survived against "Sin-Eater" Zed and lived to tell the tale!"

"Probably because they died when you fought them, right?"

The thug tapped the side of his nose. "You know, I've heard of Dryad's Tears and Yang Xiao Long, but I've never heard of you before. What guild are you from?"

Jaune laxed at the conversation. "Oh, I'm not from a guild."

"That so? A shame you gotta waste it helping out the sleeping dragon there." He nodded his head towards Yang. "Why don't you join up with Imp's Delight? We could use a man like you in our guild. Raiding villages'll be a breeze!"

"And if I say no?" Jaune tightened his grip on his sword and widened his stance.

"Then you won't say anything ever again." Jaune held up his shield. Zed sighed. "Shame. You could have been a real pal." A green incantation circle manifested behind Zed. "WINDS OF OMEN!"

The vortex reappeared, but spun in reverse this time, launching small debris everywhere. Jaune kept his shield close to his face as the wall of wind, debris, and sawdust blinded him. He raised a foot to step forward.

"STARVING GIANT!" Zed cried over the howling wind, and the vortex spun once again in reverse, sucking the sawdust and debris in, as well as the now off-balance Jaune, forcing him to fall forward. Zed cancelled his vortex and rushed towards him. Jaune struggled to regain his balance, only to lose it once again as Zed unleashed an onslaught of punches into Jaune, his unbalanced flailing of his sword and shield to his sides left him wide open. Jaune fell to the ground in pain.

"That's all you going for you, huh? Brains and a blonde girlfriend? It takes more than that to beat me, kid." He crouched down next to his floored opponent. "Tell you what I'll do: you and your friend come back to the guild, you swear your allegiance, and I'll forgive you both for this little interruption we had. What do you say?"

"I say you can take that offer and shove it up your ass." Jaune and Zed looked in surprise as the panting Yang stood up from the rubble. She removed a bandana from her leg, revealing a tattoo of yellow tree with yellow teardrops falling from the canopy. "I don't care how tough you Imp cowards think you are. My guild is the strongest Wizard Guild this side of Fiore. Your little street gang clubhouse has got nothing on us!"

Zed stood up and walked over to Yang, who struggled to get into a fighter's stance. "STARVING GIANT." Yang was pulled into the vortex, her face caught by Zed's hand. He lifted her up, then slammed her into the ground. "WINDS OF OMEN."

Yang screamed as winds with the force of a hurricane blasted her into the ground, but Zed kept his grip on her face as his volley of winds continued, each gale more intense than the last. "This is what happens to those who fight against Imp's Delight! No one is greater than our guild; not while Guildmaster Amon Ripper, the Red Dragonslayer, still breathes! And now, I'm going to drag your sorry hide to his feet, and you'll be his toy for as long as he likes! Because we are-

"GAH!" Jaune crashed into Zed, forcing him to let go of Yang and sending him flying a few yards away. Yang looked up and saw Jaune standing over, his shield in front of him. Zed stood up, growling. "Cheap shot, kid, and the last one, too!" Zed placed both hands in front of him, incantation circles manifesting behind him. Jaune sheathed his sword and took a deep breath. "WINDS OF OMEN!"

A cylinder of wind charged towards Jaune, the young man stepping forward, over Yang. He widened his stance and squatted in place, bringing his fists up to his mouth, one in front of the other.

Yang and Zed both widened their eyes. "You're a-?!" was all Yang could get out before a yellow incantation circle with the head of a dragon in the center appeared.

"YELLOW DRAGON ROAR!" Jaune bellowed as a shining yellow vortex of his own crashed into Zed's, then enveloped and swallowed his gusts of wind, overpowering and launching Zed.

Zed crashed far away. Far from the village and his team of thugs. Said team gathered at the ruined shop, each gawking at the powerful wizard who literally blew their leader away. Jaune turned towards Yang and saw them. They flinched at his gaze. "Your boss flew that way." Jaune pointed in the direction of his blast. The team nodded, then ran off to collect their benefactor. Jaune looked down at Yang. "Do you need help?"

"Just a little." Jaune grabbed her arm by the bicep and helped her stand. "Thanks, but I should be fi- Shit!" Yang stumbled into Jaune's chest. She must have been tired. Jaune could tell by how red her face was getting. "So, uh, a dragonslayer, huh?"

"Yeah." Jaune answered simply.

"So your "mom" is-" Jaune answered the same as before. "Huh. Never would have guest, since you have that sword and shield. Figured you'd be a Requip wizard."

Jaune shook his head. "Nope."

Yang grabbed Jaune by the shoulders and steadied herself. Jaune gave her a worried look. "I'll be fine. I just need a nap."

"Maybe there's an inn nearby."

"Nah! What I really need is grub! Is there a tavern around here?"

Jaune and Yang sat down in the tavern that was only a few buildings away. Yang was scarfing down beef burgers and fries by the handful, while Jaune ate his chicken sandwich in silence. "Sho yur muh effed I yu ur yah?"

"Could you maybe say that again without an entire cow in your face?" Yang chewed and swallowed her sixth helping of burger, then washed it with her stein of cider, finishing with the most ladylike belch in the history of ever.

"BRAAAAAAAAP!!! Ah! So, like I was saying, your mom just up and left while you were young?" Jaune nodded, which Yang replied to with a scoff. "Your mom sounds just like mine, except somehow worse. I had my dad. You didn't have anybody."

"I'm sure she had a reason. That's why I'm looking for her."

"To learn why?" Jaune nodded again. "Be careful, Jaune. You might not like the answer. I sure as hell didn't like mine." Yang reached for her fries. "There's a lot people in this world, Jaune, and the worst ones are always the ones closest to you." Jaune frowned at that. She expected him to. "But enough about that. Let's get back to you joining me."

"What?"

"You and me hooking up! I need you by my side in case what happened back there happens again." Yang extended her hand. "What do you say?"

Jaune blushed and looked away. "My mother warned me about this!"

"Huh?"

"She said she wanted grandkids, but only when I met the right woman. But how will I know if you are the right woman for me? I mean, we've only just met, but maybe this is love at first sight?" Yang was blushing now. "You are strong, but strength isn't what's important in a relationship. What matters is that we love each other, and-"

Yang slammed her hands on the table. "HOLD ON A MINUTE!"

"Um, excuse me?" Yang and Jaune looked to their side, seeing the young girl they saved earlier. "Um, thank you again for saving me. I owe you both so much."

"We were just happy to help." Jaune said with a smile.

"Yeah, so how much are you willing to pay back?" Jaune snapped his head towards Yang, glaring at her. "Relax, shield boy! I'm just messing with her." Yang turned her attention back to the girl. "But really, if you need any help, don't be afraid to ask Dryad's Tears for help. We'll be here as fast as we can, and kick butt as hard as we can."

The poor girl seemed on the verge of tears. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"

Yang smiled at the girl's tears. Her smile of gratitude warmed her heart. It almost reminded her of Ruby. "Well, time we get going."

"Already?" Jaune asked.

"Yeah." Yang pulled out a piece of paper, and wrote something down. "My offer still stands, if you're interested. Just swing by the guild if you wanna join."

"Can't I go with you?" Yang gave him a curious look. "I mean, it's like you said earlier, you need me by your side. Besides, if it means I'm closer to finding my mom, then I should join, right?

Yang set her paper face-down on the table, and closed her eyes in thought. She couldn't guarantee that she'd be able to help him find his mom, or any dragons for that matter. Still, he saved her life, so she owed him at least that much. "Okay, you got yourself a deal!"

"Oh, my! It's so big" Yang opened her eyes to see the girl marvel at Jaune's sword, which he was showing off for her.

"Thanks! It was a gift from my mom."

"She must have been quite the craftsman!"

"No, she was a dragon."

"Oh, my! Really? Does that mean you're a dragonslayer?"

"Yup! I'm the son of Bellisa, the Yellow Dragon."

Yang quickly stood up. "All right, Jaune, time to go!" The last thing they needed right now was unwanted attention. "Time to head back to the guild!"

"Okay!" Jaune stood up, and stepped out. "It was nice meeting you-" Jaune tripped over himself and landed on his face. Not hard, though, which was odd when you considered the floor was made of wood. Jaune pushed himself off the floor, into the ruby red eyes of the blushing girl.

"Wow!" someone said.

Jaune immediately leapt up. "Ah! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-!" He felt a tug on his arm. He looked in that direction and saw Yang red in the face and looking away.

"Come on, Lady Killer, we have to go!"

"What about the bill?"

"I left a check, don't worry about it!" As soon as they made it out, Jaune heard shouting behind him. He looked back and saw an elderly man chasing them with a broom, mumbling something loudly that he couldn't understand. He saw the girl following suit, stopping the man and talking to him. Whatever she said seemed to calm him down. As the man turned away, she looked in his direction. She was far away, but he could have sworn she was winking. "C'mon! Pick up the pace, Romeo! We gotta get there before nightfall!"

"To where?"

Yang smiled. "Where else? Beacon, the home of Dryad's Tears!"

The girl went back to her house, and collapsed into a chair. What a day! First some rookie thugs from some no name dark guild try to hustle her, then her cover gets blown, LITERALLY, by a dragonslayer.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a buzz in her dresser drawer. She opened it to find her communications Lacrima vibrating. With a touch, she was answered with the image of a woman with black hair and amber eyes watching her, taking into account her every move. She lifted the Lacrima to the dresser.

The woman spoke first. "Do you have anything to report?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Proceed." The girl took a deep breath and began explaining her encounter today. The slow, early morning, the annoying later morning, the interesting midday, and the unfortunate afternoon. "So your cover is compromised."

"Not completely. However, it doesn't seem there's anything left for me here. If you'd like, ma'am, I can continue my role-"

"That won't be necessary." The woman was silent for a moment. "Return to the guild. Our guildmaster will have another assignment for you ready by that time."

"Yes, Cinder."

"Good." Cinder Fall leaned forward, her bangs parting to show off her web tattoo over her eyes. "Besides, I also would like to hear more about this "dragonslayer" you told me about, Emerald."

#rwby #jaune arc #fairy tail #yang xiao long #emerald sustrai #cinder fall #old man shopkeep

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calitraditionalism · 4 years

Text

Arc One: Chapter Eight

Far in the southern marshes of the Territory, someone else was watching the clouds roll in from the north with intense interest.

Flyfang, a sturdily-built ticked tabby, kneaded at the soft, grassy ground below her feet. Even at this distance, she could smell the rain coming towards her. It wasn’t too far away; it’d take maybe an hour before the heavy stuff hit where she was now. By then, the sun would fully be up, but she figured these stormclouds were thick enough that it’d be dim anyways. The lack of sunlight to give reflections on the water would encourage the rest of the family to head towards the lake on the border, where there were bigger fish to catch.

Nighttime would have been preferable, but Flyfang wasn’t willing to wait until then. Who knew how long it would rain for? She was only waiting for the ceremony to be over to-

“There you are!”

Flyfang jumped and looked back with alarm, which immediately went away as she recognized her little sisters standing side by side behind her. She turned fully to them with an automatic grin.

“And there you are,” she said.

One of the kits, Gnatkit, was the spitting image of her: a stout and rounded grey molly with flecked markings all over her back. The other, Mosquitokit, was black with white feet and a white marking on her chest, and her tail was waving back and forth in delight.

“How do we look?” asked Gnatkit. She stood like a warrior on watch, but Flyfang could only see a kitten fresh out of the nursery.

“You look ready to get yourselves some mentors.” Flyfang bent down a little to meet their eye levels and winked. “Don’t worry, I made sure you’ll have the best ones in the family.”

“And in the Territory?” asked Mosquitokit, leaning forward far enough to almost fall onto her face. Her wide eyes faintly reflected the clouds that were now behind Flyfang.

“Weeellll…” Flyfang looked around and leaned in as well, whispering conspiratorially, “Don’t tell your mentors, but I think there might be some better ones out in the valley.”

Mosquitokit gasped and swatted at Flyfang’s nose. “Don’t say that!”

“You didn’t do a very good job finding us mentors, then,” Gnatkit said, and jerked away from another swipe aimed at her shoulder.

“Ravenleap and Troutpath are good!” Flyfang protested, rubbing her nose as if she’d been actually struck. “They’ll be fine for now.”

At this, her sisters went quiet and looked at each other with concern. They knew better than to continue down the “for now” conversation thread, but that unspoken topic floated over all of them in place of the dark grey clouds.

Flyfang quickly recovered with another grin. “Now, let’s go back. The first one there gets to push the other two into the water!”

Her sisters squawked as Flyfang leapt over their heads and started off at a jog. She heard them scrambling to follow her and picked up her pace just enough to keep them running without pushing each other out of the way.

The three of them jumped over the small criss-crossing streams that threaded their home without a second thought, throwing joking insults back and forth as they went. As the grass started to flatten and expose the other family members of the Marish that were all heading the same way, Gnatkit and Mosquitokit had caught up to Flyfang and were trying to slow her down by grabbing her tail between their teeth or attacking her paws to make her stumble. When they crossed the last stream and entered the wide island that was the Marish’s current camp, Flyfang let herself topple over and cry out as her sisters wrestled with her legs and ears.

Flyfang knew they were disturbing the peace of the camp, just as she knew without looking that the deputy was standing nearby and watching her disdainfully. Minnownose, an elderly grey-brown-and-white molly, had gotten everyone else to obediently turn over the responsibility of raising their kits to the heads of the Marish. The kits’ father, Swiftdust, had already agreed to let her make all decisions regarding Gnatkit and Mosquitokit’s lives. The family had always been overly submissive in all respects – no fighting, no telling hurtful truths, just listen to your seniors no matter how insane they were – and it was considered natural that the “entire family” should decide the fate of the kits living there.

Which was why they all hated Flyfang so much.

Of course, no one would admit they hated her. That wasn’t the Marish way. All but Minnownose had given up on trying to get Flyfang to “calm down” and “just obey her elders”. Now they just ignored her when she walked past or gave her looks when she started wrestling with the twins. But Flyfang knew they hated her regardless. The Marish were secretive, but they weren’t as subtle as they thought they were.

It was why Flyfang was preparing an escape once her sisters’ apprentice ceremony was complete, something that was almost as bad as murder in the Marish. She’d done a lot of persuading and pleading to get the most open-minded members of the family to agree to request her sisters as apprentices, so they could be well cared for in her absence. Flyfang couldn’t take them now, with them just being six months old – apprentices had to be nine months before they could travel safely and without anyone protesting for their health. She planned to come back and sneak them off once they’d learned how to hunt and fight and were more developed and able to walk long distances. She just couldn’t stay here any longer. This was killing her.

“Alright, alright!” she cried, laughing. “Let me up!”

“Only if you promise not to throw us in the water!” Mosquitokit punctuated this with a bite on Flyfang’s cheek.

It didn’t hurt too badly, but Flyfang yelped anyway. “I won’t! I won’t! Someone help!”

“You’re a grown warrior,” Minnownose cut in, her cold voice slicing through the humid air. “Should you be acting like this and encouraging your sisters to play rough before their ceremony?”

Immediately, the kits let go of Flyfang and backed away nervously. Flyfang rolled her eyes, sighed as loudly as she could, and got to her feet.

“I don’t know,” she said to Minnownose, “you tell me. You’re fond of that, aren’t you?”

Minnownose did not rise to her bait. Instead, she made a beckoning motion with her tail. “I’d like to talk to you.”

Flyfang looked back at her sisters and made a face. The two of them fought off their giggles and sat down, grooming themselves to look busy. Flyfang gently tapped both of their heads with her tail and walked silently to the deputy, her smile replaced with narrowed eyes.

Minnownose led her a small distance away, just far enough that they could not be heard by the rest of the family. She turned around, sat, and curled her tail around her paws. Flyfang stayed standing, silently daring her to order her to sit too.

She didn’t. Instead she mirrored Flyfang’s narrowed eyes. “Your sisters are to be apprenticed today. Do you know the mentors we’ve chosen?”

“We”, sure, Flyfang thought nastily. Always “we” in this family, isn’t it? “Ravenleap and Troutpath. They told-“

“They talked with me and requested to become mentors,” Minnownose interrupted, colder than before. “They did their best to make it sound like it was their idea. However, I’m not stupid. I know you put them up to it.”

Flyfang said nothing.

“I humored you this one last time,” Minnownose went on. “You have your little victory over me this one last time. After today, you’ve lost all right to tell me what to do with the kits and apprentices of this family.”

Flyfang’s fur bristled all over her body. Her claws unsheathed of their own accord as she tried to remind herself that it didn’t matter because she was leaving anyway. It didn’t help any; she still wanted nothing more than to claw the contempt off of the old bat’s face.

“That’s all.” Minnownose stood up and walked past Flyfang. “The ceremony’s starting now. Come.”

Flyfang vaguely wondered how life would be once she didn’t have anyone she hated in her face all the time as she followed the deputy.

The clouds were getting closer already, almost covering the sun. That was nice.

Flyfang could barely enjoy the ceremony. She watched her sisters become apprentices and greet their mentors without really absorbing it, chanted their names without thought. Her enthusiasm was there, but she was hardly thinking. The family ended the ceremony with Minnownose announcing a hunting party and leading almost all of them south, where the streams got thicker and thicker until they pooled into a lake. The only ones left in the camp were Flyfang, her sisters and their mentors.

“We’re going to show them around the marsh,” Troutpath said to Flyfang. “Would you like to come with us?”

Flyfang shook her head. “Not right now. I want to see how the hunting is up towards the valley. Best fish are at the lake, I know, but we’ve been having some luck with the smaller schools, so.”

Troutpath nodded. “We can meet you up there later?”

A light in her old mentor’s eyes told her that he had a suspicion that she was up to something, but, like always, he had her back and said nothing. She simply smiled and returned the nod before speaking to her sisters, who had run up to her.

“I’ll see you guys later,” she said, keeping her tone casual. “You’ll be alright without me for a bit, I’m sure.”

They were smart enough to not give her away. Instead, they both pressed their noses into her shoulders.

“I love you very much,” she said, low enough for only them to hear. “And I’ll be back, I promise.”

Mosquitopaw nodded and murmured, “We’ll be the worst apprentices.”

“Even worse than you,” Gnatpaw agreed in a whisper.

“Atta girls.” Flyfang gave them a lick on the ear each and stepped back, waving her tail casually and raising her voice. “Hopefully fishing’s good upriver. Have fun on the tour, you two.”

Neither of the apprentices spoke. They just nodded and turned away slowly, following their mentors as they left camp. Flyfang noticed with some small mix of pride and grief that they didn’t look back, just stayed cool and natural on their departure.

Flyfang waited until they were far enough away to not hear her footsteps before starting off at a half-run north. The rain started up, gently tapping her along her spine and shoulders. She picked up her pace just as the rain did the same. She sent a silent thanks to the rain’s aspect that she was struggling to see far ahead of herself and that her paws were already soaked – it’d be too difficult for the Marish to track her down and force her to return in weather like this.

The streams merged and grew wider, and within a few minutes they united into one river, just as the grass became softer and brighter in color. Flyfang grinned, genuinely and widely, and broke into a full sprint, not caring where she was going, just that the Marish were now behind her.

#warrior cats #steorra #arc one #chapter #chapter eight #story #dullard #together and apart #flyfang #gnatkit #mosquitokit #gnatpaw #mosquitopaw #ravenleap #minnownose #troutpath

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zafaria · 4 years

Text

Omnivore

It became very apparent why the notches and spokes on gears were called “teeth”.

“Teeth.”

The word didn’t feel right between hers.

“Teeth ,” she said as she looked up the axle of the machine.

Overhead the gears whirred. They were the size of whole islands. They reminded her in part of Brabanzio Villa, with the notches like the little arches in the marble portico surrounding the courtyard. Except there wasn’t anything that jutted out hungrily, all of the columns were lined safely underneath the connected annulets, like their large flat heads were connected by a surrounding comfort. They were aligned. They were the flat, humble teeth of an unthreatening herbivore ground down to the gums, leveled.

Then to either side of the walkway that opened up from the dock and formed the decking around the core, there were gears connected like waterwheels that had sharp spokes, like the edges of chainsaws. Malicious things, best kept away from. Undulling shark teeth.

And all the while looking at the structure she clenched hers, then looked in front of her and saw a most fascinating sight, one she had not seen for months: Phule. He beckoned her over from beyond some destroyed marines, with his long mask. Kane gave him a mouth, and on the lighthearted side, Phule smiled. On the stern side of his face, he scowled with his mouth bitterly propped open. But there were no teeth, and it was hollow and dark underneath the mask, and she could only ever imagine what drove him, what gave him spark to continue forward in his elusive, whimsical way.

She approached, treading carefully past the guards, wary of Phule and his ruses, that the hands of one of the constructs might reach from below and trip her up.

Phule looked at her straight as she approached, but when she came within distance of conversation, he turned his bitter side to her.

“It took you long enough to get here!” His mask was an exaggerated vaudeville one, polished black to look like an onyx or marble, or something else heavy. It was theatrical, but the droop to his mustache curling downwards and the fine feathers on his brow lifted up in warning scared her. And then he turned the other way, to show his amicable side, but also pointedly looking towards one of her guests.

“What are you doing here?” The “you” was drawn out, incredulous. It was to the old man, and the word was so sharp, so cruel, she worried it had drawn his blood, would make him collapse in the wind of it, as it began to echo into his ears. But Phule again proved difficult to predict as he reached his hand out toward the old man, and the old man took his clammy little clockwork hand in kind, between his own warm, large and gnarled fingers drawn out from wringing and tinkering. She stepped back a little and saw Gazpaccio’s warm, closed-mouth smile and his breathlessness, and she saw Phule's mustache twitch and his chin move as he seemed to mouth a word.

“Grandfather.”

Gazpaccio called him a tormented soul, said he made an error when he built Kane to be heartless. He held Phule’s tiny, almost dainty hand. Honored to meet a machine made from machine, and perhaps a little sad that the poor creature was, inevitably, only in existence because of his mistake making Kane so many, many years ago.

She held the sight a little longer. She wondered if Kane did have a heart from the beginning whether he would’ve still created, and if he did, would he have still made Phule as a joke, a tormented soul, or would he have been a little kinder.

“Fixing him will be difficult,” Phule said to the old man, then turned to the pirate. “You don’t know what the machine is for, do you?”

She shook her head. And then Phule flipped his, snapping his neck to the side. She thought he might be looking out over the decks for a second, but his wincing, malformed face began to speak.

“You don’t even know where you stand! You come in here to be some hero and yet you have not any idea how to begin!”

“Well. Yes. That’s been my entire journey up to this point, hasn’t it? I didn’t have an inkling of a clue of who you were when I first met you. How could we have predicted this, then?”

“Your ignorance could fill the Spiral!”

She frowned at this. She’d done wrong, spoken wrong. She didn’t like to think of the way things were in the places she had left behind, but she wondered, hungry and pained, what happened to the smoking buildings and ships in Westminster, or the vacated bodies of the wharf rats at Blood Shoals that no one tended to after they relinquished their ghosts.

Phule turned gently, back to his kind side. He explained slowly, patiently what the gears were, why there had been so many guards (but not why he had decided to clear the way for them). It was a Machine, a big Machine, to create a new First World from dust. To get rid of the imperfect things, like her.

“He’s your father. Why do you care?” she asked.

“As you can imagine, I have a rather unique perspective on imperfection.”

Inside was full of brass and whining, and glass making the kinds of windows that bubble outwards and give the sky the appearance of storm-wracked darkness from window tint. But she knew it was just appearances, there was no tint to the windows, and they were clear glass. The sky was, in all truth, really that grey, that dusty. She’d just seen it.

And then in front of them was an elevator, but it looked an awful lot like a giant birdcage made of brass. She looked around the whole room. There were metal bars, plates, screws, up all the walls like seams. Outside, she saw a flash of green lightning. It turned in her mind, all the explicit, drenching danger of what she was about to do, but she also wondered about all the mundane dangers, the overloading of the small lift with her whole crew, the conductivity of all the metal, whether it was too exhilarating or taxing to get up to the top.

She turned to check on the old man, to make sure he hadn’t collapsed. She worried about him, that a breeze in the wrong direction might make him stumble, or that a sudden burst of lighting would send him into cardiac shock. He looked ahead, but noticed her gaze almost instantly. He turned to her and smiled with warmth, the red of his splotchy, wrinkled face a rare hue amidst the ferocious and vehement green and the unpalatable and loud orange-yellow.

She opened her mouth as if to speak a little.

“We shall be fine. Perhaps a few of us at once on the lift, yes?”

She closed her mouth.

Then, she stopped worrying about the mundane things and the minute things. There was only room, energy, emotion left for worrying about the big things, big like the Machine they were traipsing in. Gazpaccio reached his hand out to her and she grabbed it.

“We can go first.”

They walked together and held hands up to that brass birdcage and stood uneasy on the platform. She looked to him again, and he looked back with a smile, his crooked browned teeth showing in the flush of red.

The elevator ascended with more whining, and the rest of the crew stood, breathless and faced skyward as the old man and the pirate were lifted out of sight, surrounded by the miring sea of green glass and slowly moving bronze.

Above them, there was a raised center, like a stage. The Armada enjoyed their drama, after all. The entire spectacle was flanked by dragoons with heavy chests, lithe battle angels and their crowned helmets, and marines that each had sharp, polished blade axes. Kane stood in the center, his rapier extended as if he had struck already and was now plumbing the depths of the victim further.

The pirate and the old man were still holding each other’s hands. Gazpaccio unfurled his large fingers to step forwards, towards Kane and the blade. The old man began to fish something from a bag hanging on his side, sad and worn.

The pirate’s face furrowed.

Gazpaccio spoke, lifting out a small red object in a little wood-frame box. He held it up to Kane, leveling it out over the chest of the automaton. And in one swift motion, Kane grabbed his flintlock off his belt, and in the arc it took for him to raise his arm and line it up with the box, he flicked the lock back and it slammed into a little piece of flint and sparked.

The heart clamored out of the old man’s hands and fell to the floor, shattered.

She began to step forward, her mouth opened again as she moved towards the old man and held her arms out sheepishly, but somewhere above the man’s head, in the fuzziest reaches of her vision, a little fire shone and flashed out, and Gazpaccio crumbled on the floor before her, only a reach away.

She shouted, something feeble, something useless, and Kane just looked at her, interested and unfazed.

“Forget the map. Your race is over, and I’ve won.” His voice was smooth, but also crisp. It was inhuman, but interrupted by little jars and static and crackles.

She cried and tiptoed around the body of the old man, and as soon as her foot cleared his head, she ran and lept up towards the automaton’s foot, pulling at the empty, leathery tip of his boot. Kane flicked her off and sent her into the floorboards like it was a joke, taunting trapped, sacred, starving animals in a pit.

“I’ve made a new map. Took Marco Pollo twenty years; I made mine in twenty days.”

He said something else then walked away as she sat there on the ground staring at her knees, slumped next to the old man. Her parents hadn’t even been gone for fifteen years. She chased tattered, reeking and bleeding pieces of the map across the entire universe for only twenty days, and just to find that they were useless. Entirely useless. Her backbreak pulling at the lines and the sharp pains in her elbow from holding the wheel and gently guiding it, suspending her arms for hours. All of it useless.

The machines began to swarm around her and the old man. Her crew charged in and began shooting, disassembling, flinging things, knives, and yelling at each other. She stayed on the ground and felt that whole universe she had travelled and helped mend falling apart as gears would begin to grind into bedrock.

Her crew dragged her up by the elbows from her daze, interrupting her view of the ceiling and the wooden floorboards holding up the top of the machine.

“Come on! It isn’t over yet,” Bonnie said, pulling her by the arms, nearly tripping and floundering on a spiral set of unrailed marble stairs. Each little cliff in the stars reached up, like the serrated edges of some carnivore’s teeth. She stumbled over her footing again and again until the flight of stairs ended and they reached the top of the layer where Kane was standing minutes before. He had backed himself towards an edge now, near another bucket-lift.

It beeped. Well, something did. A little purple orb emerged from behind two bronzed, curved sheets. It was polished to a shine, like a singular, faulty eye found on a spider or a bug or a squid. There were no separations, it was one unending sphere of a sickly, poison pink.

“No. Not yet. Prepare my escape, and destroy this chamber,” Kane said, looking at the pink sphere.

“No.”

There was silence. The Machine refused to obey the perfect creator, and this had left everyone and everything in the room a little stumped. Then Kane began yelling, turning almost infantile.

“I gave you an order and you will obey!”

The pirate looked bewildered and still tear-streaked, staring at the plaster man, watching his grip on the railing around the lift tighten and his legs straighten out. He was preoccupied waiting for the Machine; he didn’t notice she was staring.

Between her and Kane, the floorboards opened up and a series of automatons, the same kinds of battle-angels and dragoons from before, were lifted up into the light. Kane turned and went into the bucket-lift, leaving the pirate to resolve his insubordinate, imperfect Machine.

The pirate and her crew turned to one of their favorite solutions for pretentious and condescending things: they beat the core pillars surrounding the chamber until they were smashed and compromised and the Machine was left a stuttering and defunct mess.

And then they all grasped on to each other, surrounding the pirate in a ring of arms as they clung to the overburdened lift to Kane.

At that top floor, there was a checkerboard tiling of black and white polished marble. She stepped up towards the squares, but not on them, then looked at Kane.

He stared back. Around him, he was flanked by even rows of other automatons, some they had seen and one they did not recognize.

“Allow me to introduce my greatest of creations, the Queen,” Kane said with a bow. The Queen let her hand-held mask down, revealing a slim plaster-white face with pointed, stabbing features.

“Kill them all.”

The machines surged forward on the board, and the pirate looked back to her companions only to find that they were rushing forwards, determined and set on their targets and gritting their teeth.

She heard a clatter as Bonnie Anne bashed something with the stock of her musket, the loud pangs of Gracie’s golem and her wrench hitting reinforced metal, the deft and feathery swish of the Queen’s rapier cutting air, and then a sharp little sound as she drew blood. There was grunting, small vocalizations, little things, and wheezes, but not screaming or yelling. The crew was focused. There was no fear here any longer.

And the pirate found herself walking forward, straight into the Queen at first, the unpredictable and perfected creation. She watched the Queen twirl and jab as she approached, but she was readying her hand on her own dagger, preparing to plunge it through the machine.

She stepped next to her, but as she did the Queen turned, changed direction and began to trust the rapier forward precisely, exacting. It caught the pirate and stabbed her. She cried and howled in pain as the blood began to emerge from the deep pits the sword had made.

And then, a pipe wrench smacked upwards and collided with the Queen’s lifted sword, with such a strike it bent the thin blade backwards, crinkled it at an angle. The pirate was in mincing pain, but she reached back for her own daggers, and did as she imagined she would, cutting through first the heavy silk and satin of the dress on the Queen, then hitting and piercing metal. Then striking copper springs, then going even further, piercing another layer of metal--the backside of the machine. After making the through-and-through cut, the pirate ripped up and down, wildly, aimlessly, hoping to deconstruct the thing piece-by-piece from the outside using something as imprecise as a sword.

And as she did this, Gracie turned to cover the pirate’s back, and the golem moved in as Kane gently and regally stepped into the scene, as if to try and salvage his creation.

The golem took its mace-arm and spiked it directly into Kane’s mask. It left holes in the exterior. And then Gracie struck him from behind his head, sending him lurching forward. As the clatters of the other machines echoed around the smoothed, level floors, the rest of the crew drew in bellicose and ruthless, ready to shred apart the last remaining machine. The pirate was now kneeling and continued to wildly fling her arms about and eviscerate the Queen, teeth barred and panting.

There was a ring of sounds, of metal, of lightning, of musket powder burning, and boots stomping.

She turned around, and then, there wasn’t anything at all. Everything was collapsed where it had stood.

Gears overhead continued to whir. The delirious and exasperated crew all kneeled to the ground to catch their breath, and before them, purple threads, the same sick color of that orb from the previous floor, materialized, and pulled at Kane.

They all followed with their eyes, but no one dared reach for the automaton. Another moment of stunned puzzlement.

There was a great light, like the lighting outside, but this one was condensed, inside, coursing through Kane from his face downward. His mask popped off and fell to the floor, scraped and broken. She winced as she saw his head snapping back at a ninety-degree angle and something extracted from the mess of wires and copper lining the inside. He was so limp, so lifeless, so...real. And just like that, after the shockwave had course through him, after the machine, the true Machine had done its work and gotten what it desired, it tossed him to the floor like a discarded toy with a satisfied thump that was heavier and sharper than anything organic. Like something that ran out of batteries.

He lay on the floor in the same, crumpled, grotesque way that his father did two floors below. All around them, things stopped turning, the flat faces of the spokes of the gears shuddering to stop.

And behind where the plaster mask used to be, she could see clearly now that the teeth of all the brass gears had finally stopped their whirring.

#w #wizard101 #pirate101 #p101 #w101 #editing: done #tooth posting: accomplished

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sustraiii · 5 years

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Team ZRCN ARC 2 - CHAPTER 14

Operation get Neela back is a go!!!

XANTHOS

It had been two days since his little spat with Zelde. Although it helped to relieve some of the tension in the air, things were understandably a little awkward between them still. What conversations they did have were short a brief, one or the other, making a quick exit from the conversation at the onset of any potential arguments.

It had been a quiet morning so far. Leyla needed someone to help her with some shopping, and Xanthos found himself on that duty after Zelde elected to remain behind to discuss something with Helia.

The two of them had just returned, when Zelde called out to him.

“Ravi, we need you for a moment.”

He smiled slightly to hear her refer to him by his nickname again. She had been calling him by his first name recently, and he hadn’t liked it. He had joked about being in trouble with her when she referred to him by it, but despite his good humour, she hated it when she used his first name. It reminded him of getting scolded or back when they barely knew each other.

Cautiously walking into the living room, he noted Zelde and Helia had taken over the coffee table with a large map. He didn’t need to be close to it to tell that the shape was that of Shizukana.

As he got closer, he could see they had drawn some markings on it for some unknown reason.

“What are you doing?” He asked, peering down at the map.

“Attempting to determine where that group might be holding out,” Zelde answered, tapping to a mark on the map. It was an ‘X’ scribbled right of the village. “We’re marking out locations where they attacked or were rumoured to have been seen, and then we’re trying to deduce where they might be from there.”

“Interesting,” Xanthos mused, looking over the other marks in closer detail. There didn’t seem to be any specific pattern to them in truth. Beyond the marks to denote the attacks on the village and the attack in the woods where Cordovan was attacked there weren’t really any that were close together. It was on his third time looking over it that he realised one mark was missing.

“You didn’t add that location you got from Mr Perr,” He pointed.

“I wasn’t sure where it was,” Zelde admitted with a small frown. “Besides, there are so many fishing spots on the island it would be hard to say for certain which one it was.”

“North-east, Linnear Point,” Leyla called out from the kitchen. The three of them turned to look at her. “It was from Juni, right? The old man always goes fishing up there. There are some good rockpools he likes to scavenge from up there.”

With a small nod, Zelde grabbed the marker pen she had been using and drew an ‘X’ over the point Leyla mentioned. The three of them went back to looking at the map, hoping the new mark would perhaps hint at where to go, but found no immediate luck. It took some minutes before Xanthos eventually outstretched a hand. “The pen please.”

Zelde passed it to him, and he could her eyes on him as he began drawing lines connecting some of the points together. When he straightened, he had drawn a mid-sized triangle on the map. “I’d say we’re going to be looking for somewhere in this area,” He smiled, snapping the lid back on to the marker.

Zelde glanced at the area he had created in the triangle. “But there’s nothing there.”

“Well, that’s not strictly true,” Helia interjected, also looking at the map. “If my memory serves me correct the mines were located there.”

“Really?” Xanthos blinked in surprise. “Wouldn’t something like that be marked down?”

“Not if this is a new map,” Zelde suddenly said. She tapped a number at the top of the map. “Look at the date here. This map was made after the mines collapsed.”

“Holy shit,” Xanthos breathed.

Helia was quick to her feet. “Leyla!”

From the kitchen, Xanthos heard the black-haired woman curse loudly, before she appeared in the doorway. “Yes?”

“Do you have an older map at all? One from before the mines collapsed?” Helia asked.

“Yeah, I do. Give me a sec and I’ll find it for you,” She said with a small nod. Leyla was gone for several minutes before she returned, clutching a heavy-looking rolled up map. She unfurled it over the new map and sent a cloud of dust into the air.

“Does that help at all?” Leyla asked, glancing towards the three of them, who were comparing the previous location marked out to the same area on this new map. Zelde shrugged and looked over at Helia who had a finger on the map.

“It fits,” She said, looking up at Zelde. Her odd-coloured eyes then proceeded to glance to Xanthos. “You might have pointed us in the right direction, Ravi.” She offered him an appreciative smile.

“Nice job,” Zelde commented.

“So, where are they going to be holding out? The tunnels?” Xanthos questioned.

Leyla scoffed. “Unless they have someone whose semblance can shift rocks and dirt, that’s highly unlikely.”

“Is there anything else on the land?” Zelde asked.

“A processing plant,” Leyla answered. “It’s not a huge building, but it’s relatively secure, both from Grimm and the villagers.”

“Anywhere in this processing plant that they could use to hold a prisoner?” Zelde asked.

“Well, not specifically, no,” Leyla responded, with a small smirk. She paused for a moment to think. “I suppose the foreman's office or one of the temporary storerooms would suffice. The rest of the building is too open planned to hold a prisoner. Not unless they wanted to cuff her to a pipe or something.”

Zelde suddenly slumped backwards, a defeated look on her face. “I can’t believe we didn’t think of this sooner.”

“Hey, in our defence, everything we’ve been told about it points at it being abandoned,” Xanthos pointed out, in a weak attempt to reassure her.

“I know you mean well, Ravi, but don’t you see? That’s exactly why it’s perfect for them to hide in! Nobody will bother them there and it's perfectly situated that they can travel between less accessible points of the island within reason of course.” Zelde pointed out.

Xanthos frowned slightly at her response but was quick to nod his head in agreement to what she was saying. He looked over at Leyla. “How long would it take us to get to these mines?”

“Oh, not long,” Leyla answered. “Half a day I’d say, maybe a day if you meet any Grimm in the woods. It’s really not that long of a walk.”

“Well, there you go,” He said, jumping to his feet. He clapped a hand on Zelde’s shoulder. “We have our mission.”

“I think we need to plan out some details first,” She said, gently removing his hand. “We can’t afford to be reckless.”

“We can’t afford to wait either,” Xanthos fired back, meeting her gaze, They glared at one another before Zelde eventually eased off.

“Fine, we’ll do it your way.”

“I’ll come too!” Helia was quick to offer.

“That’s not necessary,” Zelde smiled. “But thank you for the offer, Helia.”

“I’m not letting the two of you go in there alone,” She said, her tone suggesting she was already very set on the matter. “I vowed to help you track down and deal with this Farron Hargrave, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing.”

“I’ll sit this one out,” Leyla said softly. “Like I said, I’m not much of a huntress anymore.”

Helia looked as though she wanted to argue this with her friend, but thought better of it. With a shrug, Zelde eventually agreed to the plan and suggested they hurry to ready themselves.

Xanthos had a determined grin on his face. “Operation get Neela back is a go!”

#team zrcn fic #team ZRCN #Zelde Sewick #Xanthos Ravindra #helia vines #leyla noire

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neverwatchedonepiece · 6 years

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563-564: "A Shocking Fact! the True Identity of Hordy!" and "Back to Zero! Earnest Wishes for Luffy!"

...

I’m guessing this is what all the caught-up OP fans have been waiting for this entire arc.

Here’s the verdict: I really liked the “Nothing” twist. Oda was brave to create a realistic villain like Hordy Jones. And he is probably one of the most realistic OP villains. I get why people hated it. But I know people like this guy and I think other OP fans who come from a background where there are real, engrained systemic, centuries-old problems (racism, sectarianism, whatever -ism plagues your town), they will see Hordy Jones and his goons in all the downtrodden, bitter, brainwashed poor people who had nothing to cling to but the past and a manufactured sense of social superiority.

But I’ll go into that later. There were a couple of happy Strawhat scenes. Can’t ignore them, so will dive back into the serious Hordy stuff later.

Leave It All to the Strawhats

Just have to give a brief thumbs up for the return of Sane Sanji. Or at least the Sanji I like best: the one who is smart, sarcastic and smoking. Loved that scene with the Sea Bonze guy when he did a Moria and inflated to a large size. “How do you like my size?” Sea Bonze guy boasted.

“Kraken’s bigger,” Sanji said bluntly.

“OH YEAH, HOW ‘BOUT NOW?”

“Still bigger.”

At this rate, Sanji won’t have to lift another finger. The Sea Bonze guy will keep inflating, take out more and more of his own team, and Sanji can sit back, smoke and enjoy the view.

Chopper’s little moment with Zoro was great too. I’ve always thought Zoro and Chopper have this weird, special kind of understanding. They were paired up in Strong World and, I have no evidence to base this on so tell me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember Zoro ever ragging on Chopper like he sometimes does with the other Strawhats. (It’s almost like he knows Chopper’s a sensitive, kind, little soul so he wants to protect him? The other Strawhats can take the banter, so he goes for it.)

Whatever the case, Chopper busted out his Heavy Point and went toe-to-toe with the strongest of the Fishmen Goons. Zoro turned and joked, “Hey, Chopper! That was the form that gave you the most human look, but now you look more monster-like.” It’s nice that Zoro can joke like that with Chopper. He knows Chopper was sensitive about his humanity. It was almost like Zoro was saying, “Hey, that form’s strong. Are you okay with the look?”

But Chopper’s self-esteem has rocketed since he joined the Strawhats. “I wanted to look like a human because I wanted friends. Now I want to be a monster who helps Luffy!”

Chopper really has accepted himself. Excuse me while I dab my eyes with this tissue.

Also, Zoro is making short work of Drunk Sword Fish Guy. “Bring the strongest swordsman on Fishman Island,” he said. “You’re not even strong enough to kill my boredom.”

Hospital treatment needed for that burn.

And I just have to say that scene with Robin freeing the human pirate slaves was spectacular. The little moment between her and Jimbei (”I cannot refuse the request of a handsome man”), her spinning the situation to prevent grudges against innocent Fishmen (”You can thank Jimbei for asking me to free you”) and that Cuerpo Fleurs: Double Clutch move...

It was beautiful. ;_; I only wish she had used it on Spandam. The only thing better than one clutch is two. But that Hammond guy had it coming, so I’m not complaining.

And speaking of slave-taking racist scumbags...

It Always Starts Small

I definitely liked the “Nothing” twist.

It was a shock at first. Must admit that. I kind of stared at the screen and laughed for a moment before what Fukaboshi said sank in.

“Hordy is a monster brought to life by our environment. The New Fishman Pirates are monsters created by an ancient grudge. A grudge born from our ancestors in the shadow of Fishman Island. They fear the grudge will be forgotten, their anger against humans dispelled. That’s why they are so impatient. They want humans to be evil so they can justify their crusade. They just want to see bloodshed. They don’t even want peace for Fishmen. Their hatred is not rooted in experience or true beliefs. They have no substance. They are completely empty.”

It might seem a cop out. Mundane. Motiveless. But that’s the thing. Hordy does have a motive: his empty hatred drives him.

And the sad thing is, I totally get what Oda’s trying to do here. Kind of wish I didn’t, but I do. I know people like Hordy. I’ve mentioned this before here, but where I live, sectarianism is a thing. Two branches of the same bloody religion have divided my part of the planet for centuries. There’s a horrible history of repression and terrorism on both sides. Now there are segregated schools and whichever football team you support outs you as “on a side”. Even your name and where you work can mark you. If you visit FB pages dedicated to the city, you won’t have to look far for sectarian posts. Dive into the football teams and, oh boy, you are in for a real treat!

The thing is, the people who are most virulently into this crap are often (but not always) the poorest, most downtrodden people in society. Scrape the bottom and there you will find them. There’s a lot of poverty where I live (relative compared to the rest of the world, of course). Grinding poverty means you don’t have much going for you. All you have to feel superior is your football team and your religion. (And these people actually have very little knowledge on the tenets of their respective religions, by the way. Same goes for social history. Ask them anything and they’ll get angry because they know they know nothing.) All they know is: the other side is BAD. Why? Because dad said so, and his dad said so, and so did his. They cling desperately to empty hatred.

Hordy Jones and his goons are like that. Though they’re even worse. At least the sectarian folk from my city have actually met each other in the streets after a game and have beaten the crap out of each other face to face. Hordy has never met a single human in his life.

“What did humans do to you?”

“Nothing.”

He straight up admitted it.

I loved the way Oda revealed how Hordy acquired his toxic prejudice. Because it was realistic.

Lynchings

It started small. Drip feeding the hatred. Every inch of Fishman District, that poverty-stricken, lawless place where there was nothing to do but hate. Every week another attack. Every week another kidnapping. Every once and a while a hero comes along, dying a martyr’s death (one was lauded for burning down the Human Shoppe. Probably a small business run by Fishmen, but what does that matter?) As a kid, Little Hordy loved heroes.

Then a Big Hero came along. Arlong. He liked to sit the little kiddies down and tell them tales of humans. Drip feed that poison in their ears. I guess this is what Otohime was trying to counteract. (Now that scene when she scolded the Fishmen who were about to lynch St Myosgard is really put in perspective.)

“This is a crusade! Ages ago, the filth we call humans envied the chosen and gifted Fishmen. They decided to persecute us. They were everywhere, like maggots. Humans used the only advantage they had: numbers. They drove us down to the sea floor. Never forget our grudge against the humans. Humans know and fear that their reckoning day will come, and that’s when we’ll make them pay!”

The worst, most insidious statement was this: “Never forget our history. Feel the disappointment of the dead. Take over their resentment. Hold a grudge against humans.”

That line: “feel the disappointment of the dead”... that’s evil. Proper emotional blackmail. These people died with hatred festering in their hearts. Honour the glorious dead. Damn... I feel sorry for Fisher Tiger being used in this way.

Hordy was so twisted by the poison poured in his ear on all sides that he couldn’t even listen to a story young Hatchi told about Rayleigh. He was a human but he was different. Rayleigh never made a face when he looked at Hatchi. “I don’t like your story, Hatchi,” Hordy said. “It makes me sick.”

When Tiger was killed by Marines, Hordy’s gang, swilling beer in a pub, concluded he wasn’t the chosen hero. Someone had to step up to take his place.

Then - and I could hardly believe this was in a kid’s show - it went all KKK. Torchlit lynchings of Fishmen who had helped humans in some way (one poor guy donated blood). The Royal Family were obviously traitors. They wanted to forgive humans. Jimbei was a traitor too. He had joined the Shichibukai.

“This country needs a hero,” Hordy Jones concluded. And he decided that he would be that “hero”. So he pulled the trigger on Otohime and stoked the fire of hatred against humans. The contrast between the funeral scenes and Hordy’s gang laughing it up at the pub was infuriating but effective.

Then, ten years later, it was time for their revenge. “This is a crusade. Prepare to kill as many humans as you can before your own death. We are devoting our lives to this vengeance.”

I wonder if Hordy will be willing to sacrifice his own life for his ideals? Or is that only for other people?

Push the Reset Button

You know what else I liked? Fukaboshi’s reaction to the realisation of where Hordy Jones had come from.

It was what Otohime had realised years ago, but maybe never had the chance to discuss it with her kids.

“I don’t know when, but we lost contact with Fishman District. They’ve become something like an isolated, dark side of Fishman Island. We pretended not to see the twisted hatred building up in that lawless ditch in the deep water. I filled mother’s shoes, I collected signatures, but it was only superficial. I thought I was making progress. It was too late! People like them are the ones my mother feared the most. We should have fought with ourselves first. We should have fought our own feelings towards humans. Mother was killed by the grudge growing on Fishman Island. Maybe she knew it. But a part of me held that resentment and hated humans for killing my mother. Dead people take their regret to the grave, so grudge is an illusion the living create and they alone cultivate it. Because I hated humans, I overlooked the resentment in Fishman District. When I finally noticed, it had become too powerful and beyond control.”

See, this is why I respect Fukaboshi a lot. He admits he had a part to play in the mess. Granted, I think he is justified, in a sad way. For ten years, he grew up believing a human had shot his mother dead. Despite that, he carried on her dream. But the whole Fishman District being a lawless, broken place that was ignored is interesting. If you leave a place to rot and don’t do anything about it, the people there will become poor and downtrodden. It is really easy to radicalise people who have nothing to lose. What the Royal Family should have done was double down on Otohime’s efforts to include Fishman District, to alleviate the poverty and lawlessness. Maybe that would have helped. Maybe.

His solution to the problem? It was pretty radical, actually.

“If nothing is done, Fishman Island will destroy itself through hatred of humans! We don’t need the past! Reset our history to zero. Wipe out those phantoms who shut the island away from the sun. Bring Fishman Island back to zero!

That’s also pretty radical. I guess Fukaboshi thinks there’s so much necrotic, gangrenous flesh poisoning Fishman Island that it’ll be best to just amputate the diseased limbs than let it spread any further. It’s sad that it’s come to that point, but I guess the hate is too strong.

Luckily, Fukaboshi and Shirahoshi have a Luffy who doesn’t give a crap about the past. “As long as you let me handle it my way, don’t worry,” Luffy assured. “Our minds were made up when we arrived at the plaza with Jimbei. We won’t let anyone harm Fishman Island. Leave it all up to us, Brother-Hoshi. We’re friends, right?”

I dunno, but I get the funniest feeling that this particular, rubbery human has made a lasting impression on Fukaboshi. ;)

Be honest. It’s how you’d want to go too.

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stevenuniversallyreviews · 6 years

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Episode 90: Restaurant Wars

“Thanks for calling Fish Stew Pizza, we do fries now.”

After a streak of episodes about neglect, mourning, disability, consent, and harassment, I think I’m ready for a goofy one.

Restaurant Wars is the stupidest episode of Steven Universe, and I don’t say that with an ounce of ill will. I do say this with the knowledge that Say Uncle exists: non-canon goofs are what they are, but this story takes place in continuity so it is official that Steven once saved the boardwalk by turning his house into a restaurant and making better food than two food professionals. That will never again be a thing that didn’t happen in his life.

From the start, there’s no attempt to hide the silliness. The conflict begins with Fryman and Kofi screaming “RESTAURANT WAR” at each other and cutting to black. The episode is presented in a series of titled vignettes and never stops treating the Fryman/Pizza feud as seriously as a...

...I can’t even finish that sentence, the principal characters here are named Mr. Fryman and Kofi Pizza. We don’t even know Fryman’s first name, and Kofi’s last name is the word “pizza” and he runs a pizza shop. This is so, so, so dumb. I love it.

A huge strength of this series is its ability to balance depth with humor, the big term serialization with the normal daily life of a magical kid. It sometimes swings hard at plotty episodes, but rarely does it swing this far in the opposite direction. I’m not talking about Restaurant Wars being a townie episode, because plenty of townie episodes affect the overall plot and develop important characters. Steven’s connection to humanity is critical to his status as a child of two worlds, so while alien stuff might be cooler, there will always be a place for the mundane in the actual plot.

This is a matter of tone, and Restaurant Wars is the tonal opposite of a plot-heavy story that expands the characters and lore. Uncle Grandpa and Log Date 7 15 2 and Kindergarten Kid have a similar devotion to comedy, but we still get arcs for the characters within them. Nobody grows in Restaurant Wars. The conflict’s resolution is about returning to the status quo we saw at the beginning of the episode, not moving forward or learning critical information. The single consequence is that Ronaldo gets dumped by a girlfriend we didn’t even know he had until moments before it happens, which is just deliciously cruel.

This might actually be my favorite Ronaldo episode, if I’m including episodes featuring him on top of episodes where he’s the focus: it’s not that I revel in watching him suffer (not fully, anyway), but Zachary Steel is really good at making that suffering funny, from his livid “Do you know how much BLOGGING I haven’t been able to do!?” to lasting despair after his surprisingly real girlfriend breaks up with him. It’s a welcome change of pace from his smug buffoonery, and it’s such a surprising and mean joke for the episode to end without throwing him a single bone. This subplot alone is worth the price of admission.

The breakup, like everything else in the episode, borrows its tone from the cheesiest anime melodrama anyone could ask for. There may be a reference to a more specific show, but I’m frankly not huge on slice of life anime, and despite how much I love writing about Steven Universe I draw a line at doing extensive research about friggin’ Restaurant Wars. Regardless, we get the drawn-out gasps, the kabuki emoting, the dramatic camera flashes, the works. It’s not just anime stuff—the vignette titles evoke the sort of Ken Burns parody you’d see in a show like Community, let nobody say Lamar Abrams and Katie Mitroff don’t have eclectic comedy tastes—but even a casual like me can see the Japanese influence here.

This is the sort of episode that only works every once in a while, because it’s so much compared to the general mood of the series. I understand anyone who dislikes Restaurant Wars, because it’s really different and nothing happens and it’s unbelievably stupid. But dammit, I can’t stay mad at it. Its timing is perfect, in the middle of a stretch of Beach City episodes that have been varying levels of stressful. It’s not interrupting anything or wasting your time for a second by pretending to be anything it’s not. The crew just wanted to tell a stupid story about grown men feuding over who gets to make what food, and that’s okay.

It helps that we get a better look at Fryman and Kofi, two adults that Steven understandably doesn’t hang out with very often. We already know Kofi has a temper, but Fryman until now has been defined by his gruff acceptance of how weird the world around him is, and it’s fantastic to see him revved up. My favorite joke of the episode has Steven explain that Fryman’s supposed to do fries by acknowledging his name and absurd hair, only for Fryman to not realize his hair is shaped like fries. These ridiculous names and his ridiculous character design already exist, so they might as well be used for a ridiculous story.

To be clear, this better look doesn’t actually mean much for their characters, because in a normal episode I doubt Kofi would try branding people with an iron. Again, this isn’t an story about growing, so at best we understand by the end of it that these two take their jobs seriously, but that’s something we already knew. Perhaps it would be funnier to use more established characters for something this zany, but I think we benefit from the flexibility that comes with relative blank slates: Restaurant Wars was never going to be believable, but it would be even less believable if people we knew acted this out of character.

Their kids get a nice amount of focus as well. I love finally seeing Jenny and Kiki hang out with Ronaldo and Peedee, even in this situation. I get why they wouldn’t normally interact, as Peedee is an anxious kid and Ronaldo is Ronaldo, but these are neighboring families that each have two siblings who work in their dads’ food shops. Add in the fact that both families seem to have single fathers (although Jenny and Kiki are lucky enough to have the world’s greatest Gunga) and the Frymans and Pizzas have a lot in common.

Unlike their parents, we get grounded character moments here that show these four probably have some history together. The highlight is Jenny stage whispering her doubt about Ronaldo’s girlfriend to Peedee, who immediately agrees; these are people who are able to stand the guy enough to hang out with him, but know he’s usually full of it. Jenny gets a sweet moment supporting Kiki, and Kiki’s people-pleasing attitude might be “helpful” here, but her focus on the needs of others above her own will be addressed in our very next episode.

There’s really nothing else to talk about in an outing like Restaurant Wars, but I have two stray thoughts for this stray episode. First, I’m glad it happened after Greg got rich, because even if it’s not mentioned it at least adds some realism into the conversion of Steven’s home. Second, I’m baffled by the pairing of the mundane pizza bagel with the revolutionary fries filled with ketchup, but I’m not exactly gonna be taken out of the moment by a strange plot point here. I’m glad I live in a world where this episode exists. But I'll also be glad to get back to the actual show.

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

This is by no means a favorite, and it’s not an episode I’m ever gonna rewatch outside of a binge or for reviewing purposes, but come on. It’s not hurting anybody.

Top Fifteen

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Beach City Drift

Winter Forecast

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Chille Tid

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Catch and Release

When It Rains

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Restaurant Wars

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

No Thanks!

5. Horror Club 4. Fusion Cuisine 3. House Guest 2. Sadie’s Song 1. Island Adventure

#restaurant wars #steven universe #su #steven universally #review

14 notes · View notes

siverwrites · 6 years

Text

Fictober Day 23: Solitude Part 3

FFVI x Ghost Trick

And at last Part 3, finishing this off.

Part 1

Part 2

All the many thanks to @azurefishnets and @laughingpinecone especially for some specifics that made their way into this particular piece.

Day 100

Managed to get something out of the garden. Hope to get some of it going again; the plants continue to wither since that day.

Work progresses on the raft. It should be complete soon.

Went fishing.