パーティならチキンを焼いて my favorite things.
満たされたばら色の人生にも、遣る瀬無い夜は訪れる。そういうときは誰にだって、ささやかな楽しみや、希望にあふれた展望が、必要になるのだった。必ずしもすべて、未来の約束じゃあ、ない、胸の奥にそっと灯ったわずかのともしびのように、幾度となく取りだしては大事に眺めた過去の日々のことであったり、はっきりとは思い出せない、夢のなかの景色であったりしたもの。
なにもかもを忽ちに。打ち上げた花火のように、あるいは激しく打ち鳴らす銅鑼のように、景気よく、気前よく、解決する手段はない。自分たちにはふしぎの力があったけれども、短く唱える呪文、たったひとつ、長い長い魔法使いの人生にあって、幾度となく、あるいは自身の名前より、多く繰り返すことになるであろう言葉は、かならずしも万能ではなかった。こうあってほしい。願ったかたちと、色と、匂いと。思い描いたものをそのままに生み出すのは、魔法であっても容易くはない。そりゃあ、世界でいちばんの魔法使い、かつて魔王と恐れられ、また、その人自身もそう呼ばれることに何の疑問もなければ、快感にすら考えていたらしいオズであるなら、違っていたかもしれないが。少なくとも、排他的で、魔法使いに限らずとも、ひととひととの独特な距離と、稀薄な関係、微妙な均衡のうえに成り立つ東の国で、息を潜めるようにして暮らす歳月の、長くなったネロには難しいことだった。
かれらは人をたまらなく愛するくせ、ジレンマのハリネズミ、いつだって近寄りすぎれば互いに傷つけあうことを恐れている。本質的に優しく、どうしようもなく寂しいが、おなじだけ気位が高く、自らを偏屈と嘯いてはばからない。もとよりそういったきらいのあったゆえに、東の国の水によく馴染んだとも言えたし、あちこちを転々としつつも店を営み続けた日々が、ネロを東の国の魔法使いにしたとも言える。彼は大いに変わったし、何ひとつ変わらない。繊細なくせに豪胆で、穏やかなようでいて燃えたぎる焔をその身のうちに飼っている。敵と見るや容赦はないが、いちど懐に入れた者にはあまりに情が深すぎた。
磨きぬかれたカトラリー、整理整頓されたスパイスラック、年代順に並べられたワインのボトル、ひとつひとつを丁寧に、確実に。積み重ねる仕事は地道で堅実、つまらないといえばつまらないが、魔法使いらしくない勤勉さは、思えば初め���らネロのものだった。掃き清められた床、皺だらけでも染みはない寝具たち、行き場のないガラクタが散乱してはいても埃ひとつなく、空気は入れ替えられていつでも新鮮だったし、窓にガラスは嵌まっておらずとも、雨漏りのする屋根はない。無責任で、自堕落、怠け者のふるまいをしてはいても、彼はきちんとしたひとだった。もっとも、照れくさいのか隠したがったが。
いつだって誰よりも早く起きて、オーブンに火を入れる。薪ひとつ、打ち合わせる火打ちのひとつにさえ、ネロは魔法を使わない。それはポリシーというよりも、ルールというよりも、信仰にも似た、祈りのようなルーティーンのなかにある。菜園の朝採りの野菜は瑞々しく、そのまま齧ってもゆたかな水と太陽の味がする。弱くないくせに深酒をきらい、ひそやかな談笑と、駆け引きのカードの卓にはつかないネロが、とっておきのバーに顔を出すことは滅多にない。いつだったか、一度か、二度か、酔いつぶれた男たち、いつだって酩酊しているようなくだけた魂のムルにカードでこてんぱんにされ、酔うほどに冴えるシャイロックのダーツ、上機嫌に賭け金を吊り上げてゆくレイズを、ブラッドリーは何度口にしただろう、浴びるほどに呑んでなおも眠ることかなわないミスラの憂鬱、それら綯い交ぜの男たちが、夜中の菜園でトマトやグリーンフラワーをちょいと拝借したときの、ネロの怒りの形相はいまだに語り種になっている。怒りに我を忘れたネロは、あろうことか序列第二位のミスラまでまとめて首根っこを引っ掴んで中庭の噴水にぶん投げてのけた。怒りの過ぎ去ったあとから勿論真っ青になっていたが、彼の大切なものを蔑ろにした人間たちを、東の魔法使いたちがそれこそ射殺すような視線で侮蔑したのでますます小さくなっていた。彼らは陰険で、執念深く、そうして何より、自らのように他人を遇することのできる人格を持ち合わせている。引っ込み思案ではあるが普段は礼儀正しく朗らかなヒースクリフや、横暴なようでいて真摯、育ちのよい振る舞いをするではなくとも主人を立てる忠義のシノ、呪い屋などと名乗りながら、不幸そのものを被せるので��く、ひとの幸運を少しばかりくじいてみせるファウストさえも、まごうかたなき東の男、彼らのあいだの、触れ合わないながらもけして離れることのない紐帯は、かたく結ばれたノットのようだ。知っていれば容易くほどけるのに、力任せには外せない。
あいかわらず甘い男だな、と揶揄されて、かつてであれば傷つくか、さもなければ猛烈に腹を立てていただろう。思うに自分は若すぎたし、感傷的にすぎた。そんなに良いものでもなかったのに、いつだって、初恋の甘酸っぱさをひきずっている処女のような、散った花の香りを惜しんではらはらと涙をこぼす生娘の心ばえを持ち合わせていた。そんなに良いものであるはずもなかったのに! あの頃慕った男は破天荒、傍若無人は十八番、焦がれるままに背を追って、まともな教育ひとつない、宝石の目利き、あらゆる鍵のこじ開けかた、それから、うつくしく高潔な暴力、彼から学んだことのすべて。師と慕うにはあまりにも、絶対のカリスマでありすぎたし、かといって、率いる盗賊団の下っ端とだって気安く肩を組み、売り捌けば相当の値がつくであろう年代もののワインを惜しまずに振る舞った。ブラッドリーはそういう男だと、痛いほどによく、分かっていた。彼が均等に分け与えないのはマナ石くらいのもので、魔法使いたちにとっては、宝石よりも、贅の限りを尽くしたご馳走や、黄金に輝くシャンパンの泡、誰にも邪魔をされずに午すぎまで惰眠を餮ることのできるベッド、それらのすべてより、いくらも価値のあったもの。けれど、さほどの不満はなかった。マナ石をボスが喰うのなら、彼の庇護下にあるものたちは、結果として強さを手に入れたのと同義であったし、ブラッドリーは北の魔法使いらしからぬ、義に篤い男であり、同じだけ誰より北の魔法使いらしい、傲慢で、不遜で、気まぐれを持ち合わせていたものだ。
すれ違う紳士淑女の懐からちょいと財布をくすねるやりかたは、残念ながらろくでもない子どもの時分に覚えた。北の国では良くあることで、家のなかには、兄だか、姉だか、父だか、母だか分からない年長者たちが溢れていたが、少なくともネロは、自分がろくでもない家の、よくない子どもであることに十分に自覚的だった。意識して、悪を悪と知りながら為すことは、なんの免罪符にもならないが、成し遂げるための知恵と、技術と、度胸があること、他人から盗みとる他にはなにひとつ持たない子どもにもゆるされる財産だった。ひとりきり、自分だけを守り、慈しみ、愛してやる、それすらも厳しいのが北の国のならいであって、山ほど部下をかかえたり、誰からみても足手まといになりかねない男を相棒と呼んで憚らなかったブラッドリーが奇特なのだ。ちびで、やせぎすで、いつだって腹を空かせている子どもたち、北の国では路地裏に、彼らの明日は転がっていない。夜はあまりに深く、暗く、長いもの、朝を迎える前に仲良く骸になれるなら、孤独もいくらか浮かばれる。死は必ずしも幸福の対極にない。
北の大盗賊ブラッドリー・ベイン。彼は間違いなく悪党であり、与えるものでも、施すものでもありえなかった。彼は多くを持ち合わせたが、しかし、価値あるものは適切に、渡るべき手へ流れていった。きっとネロ・ターナーも、そのうちのひとつであっただろう。うつくしい宝石のような、この世にふたつとない宝剣のような価値が己にあると自惚れたことはなかったが、ほんとうに素晴らしいものは、いつだってブラッドリーのもとにとどまりはしない。彼が望んでそうしたものかもしれないし、ブラッドリー・ベインという男の、避けえざる、けして覆ることのない運命のうえに、定められたものかもしれなかった。彼自身から語られないまま、断絶された数百年、いまだに牢に繋がれて、似合いもしない献身と奉仕の日々、忌々しいと吐き捨てながら、楽しんでいるようにさえ思えるのは、願望ばかりでないだろう。彼に美徳があるとは認めがたいが、日々の困難をさえ笑いとばせる豪胆さは、同じく北の国に生まれ育っても、ネロにはついぞ、備わらなかった。
とくべつでない特別な日に、任務や、修行や、仕事やらで、へとへとになった子どもたちに、なにを食わせてやろうと考えるのが好きだった。市場で仕入れてきたばかりの新鮮な食材、昨夜のうちに絞めておいた鳥、近ごろ使っていない気がするスパイス。まともに飯を食いもせず酒の肴を摘まむばかりの大人たちには、炒ったナッツでも出して黙らせておきたい。夜を裂いてゆく一条の光は銃弾、なんで分からないかな、ネロは一度だって魔法でチキンを揚げたことはなかったし、ましてや子どもたちは、焼いたチキンをご所望なので。
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After talking with @floydsin, there are a lot of talented artists on Twitter who draw incredible fanart for TGM. As I'm more familiar with Japanese artists/fandom, I would like to head up something regarding fanart based on my personal experiences.
As Japan has strict copyright laws and fanwork is in the grey area, please don't repost their work without their permission. Most Japanese artists aren't comfortable with it because they can't control how far their work would go. Giving the credit or link back to the source is not enough. There are many cases the artist deleted all works/accounts or locked them in private because of it.
If you want to compliment their work but cannot speak their langue, please do it in English by using wording that is genuine and simple as possible. Indirect comments sometimes have caused them to confuse/ misunderstanding about your truly intention.
This may not familiar with western fandom. Most of them have preference of who would be top or bottom, and these positions won't be changed. If someone draw Rooster!top, he will be forever top in all of their works.
Rooster/Maverick is very popular. If you don't like their work, please don't engage. IMO we should respect all creators for their contributions even it isn't for us.
Below are some handy wording that use among Japanese fan if you want to explore.
マーヴェリック (Maverick)
マーヴ or マーヴェ (Mav)
ブラッドリー (Bradley)
ルースター (Rooster)
ブラッドショウ (Bradshaw)
アイスマン (Iceman)
アイス (Ice)
ハングマン (Hangman)
フェニックス (Phoenix)
ボブ (Bob)
ルスハン (ru-su-han = Hangman/Rooster paring)
ハンルス (han-ru-su = Hangman/Rooster paring)
アイマヴェ (ai-ma-ve = IceMav paring)
🐔 Bradley emoji
🥴 Jake emoji
🐺 Mav emoji
🧊 Ice emoji
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✎⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
also posted on ao3
word count:
1.5k
ask:
pleasw write a fluffybradnero fic….. just them being cute and romantic and i’d also like it to be in an april fools au too bc there’s a lack of april fools brnr fics :3
ブラッドリーのアシストロイド。
✎⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Nero was halfway through an apple when he heard keys jingling and a muffled “shit” as Bradley struggled with the broken lock of the apartment door. Nero did not walk over to help him. Eventually, the door flung open with a little too much force and slammed into the wall, adding to the already-prominent dent in the cream-colored wall.
“Hey,” Nero greeted, taking another bite of his apple. He was met with a glare from Bradley that may have, at one point, sent a shiver down his spine, but now just warranted a: “Rough day, boss?”
“Don’t give me that, asshole,” Bradley shrugged off his jacket and threw it on a nearby lounge chair instead of the much closer coat hanger. Nero would have given him a look had Bradley been in a better mood. Or any other mood, for that matter. “Y’know what Cain asked me today?” Bradley continued. Nero cringed. He had a pretty good idea of what Cain had asked him today.
“Not a clue,” Nero replied, deadpan. Bradley took a few steps towards him as if trying to intimidate, though both knew it wouldn’t achieve much. He put his hand on the counter, effectively boxing him in. Nero looked unbothered and took another bite of his apple.
“‘Hey, boss, have you seen Nero’s new tattoo? It’s real cool—it glows and everything!’” Bradley said, poorly mimicking Cain’s excited tone. Nero swallowed before answering, propping his arm that held the apple on the counter and gesturing with it.
“Ain’t my fault he saw it. ‘s a locker room, after all. If he’s lookin’ at me shirtless, that’s his problem, not mine,” Nero said flippantly, shrugging and watching the way Bradley’s eyes flitted over his face.
“Oi,” Bradley warned, leaning in real close, obviously unimpressed with Nero’s wording, “It is yer problem. Mine too.” Nero scoffed and forcefully pushed past him. They tended to get on each other’s nerves more often than not; Nero was easily riled up and Bradley lacked eloquence.
“What. You scared of losin’ yer job over me? Next time think twice before harborin’ an illegal assistroid,” Nero continued bitterly, annunciating his words extra clearly to make a point. He gestured at himself while Bradley turned around in an exasperated manner, following Nero with his sharp gaze. Bradley chuckled sardonically.
“My job? I’m on Figaro’s good side. ‘Sides, he’s too much of a coward to do anything. I know too much about what that freak gets up to,” Bradley explained, leaning back against the counter with an amused smirk on his face as he thought about the sorry excuse of a man known as Professor Garcia.
“Ain’t that nice. Then why’re ya so worked up about this? It’s Cain we’re talkin’ about, yeah? I love the guy but he ain’t the sharpest officer I’ve worked with. He doesn’t know shit, and we’ll keep it that way,” he said like it was obvious. Nero walked over to the trash can, disposing of his apple core while Bradley stared at the ceiling. He made a noise of frustration before standing up to his full height and blurting:
“I ain’t afraid of losin’ my damn job! I’m afraid of losing you, Nero.”
The only sound in the apartment was Nero’s quiet footfalls coming to a halt as he turned his head to look at Bradley and a clock that ticked incessantly in the background of every conversation. The semi-silence seemed to last an eternity before Nero started shifting around awkwardly and fidgeting with the rings on his fingers.
“…O-oi… don’t you get all sentimental on me,” Nero said in a voice just above a murmur, crossing his arms again and looking anywhere that wasn’t at Bradley. This is how it always was with them—they’d crawl into each other’s arms at night and speak not a word of it the next morning. They had never put a name to it.
“Shaddup and listen.” Bradley pushed off from the counter and took just a couple of long strides over to him. They stood in an awkward place between the living room and the kitchen. It was a small apartment. “I’m askin’ ya to be more careful,” he said, sounding more irritated than anything.
“Was there a request in any of what ya just said? Couldn’t tell,” Nero said softly with none of the bite from before. He was still looking at the ground. He needed to sweep. “I ain’t obligated t’do what you tell me, anyhow. I’m not yer typical assistroid you can boss around.”
Predictably, Bradley took Nero’s chin between his thumb and index finger, lifting his head and coaxing eye contact from him. He liked doing that. Bradley wasn’t all that much taller than him—only an inch or two—but from this angle, it made all the difference. Nero’s breath caught in his throat upon seeing his face up close, as it had a thousand times before.
“Work with me here. I ain’t gonna lecture you on why yer still in one piece and not off in a junkyard somewhere, but we’re a team, like it or not.” Bradley continued to stare directly into Nero’s eyes, and Nero found himself wishing he had a lesser processing system. “So I’m askin’ real nicely. Be careful, Nero,” Bradley said, uncharacteristically earnest. His voice was stern but full of affection.
Nero felt his cheeks heating up slightly and took a few steps back. Bradley let him go easily. Nero cleared his throat.
“Yeah.. alright,” he said sincerely after a brief moment of contemplation. “Guess I’ll go back to changin’ in the corner like a kid, lookin’ all nervous.” That made Bradley laugh, and the atmosphere in the room changed.
“Yeah. You do that. ‘N tell Cain to keep his damn eyes to himself, wouldja?”
–
Nero woke the next morning at the same time he always did: 5:00 am sharp. It was something that had been programmed into all the police assistroids, and Nero had fallen into a habit of waking early before the Cardia System had been installed. Bradley relied on him to wake them every day and Nero had to do to rouse him was move around. But he was reluctant this morning.
Bradley’s hand was cold on Nero’s bare stomach. During the night, he had snaked his arms around his waist and pulled him close, tangled their legs, and reached under Nero's shirt to hold him tightly. Nero had remarked once that he was like a big, affectionate dog, unaware of how much space he took up.
Nero sighed contentedly, feeling safe in his arms if not somewhat coddled. It reminded him of how Bradley was so insistent on his distaste for assistroids, berating them every chance he could get while secretly caring for all of the discarded bots in private. He was one of them. The only one that Bradley had kept by his side. Nero was forever in the chief’s debt, but Bradley had never abused that.
The night that Bradley had found him, Nero was running for his life through the rain, having escaped Vollmond laboratories just about an hour prior. They were going to scrap him. He was too unpredictable, they said. Unstable. Bradley and a few other officers had found him and cornered him in an alleyway. He fought hard, but they managed to remove his mana plate in the end. Nero thought that was the end for him until he woke up in a shitty little apartment, soaking wet. Bradley had several bruises on his face that Nero felt quite proud of.
They’d forged some paperwork. Found an underworld mechanic to fix Nero’s ID. He wasn’t fond of the idea of having an owner, but his battery would be taken out for good otherwise.
“Ya wanna stay alive, rookie?” Bradley had asked.
“Yes.”
“Then you’re mine,” he had proclaimed.
Nero was Bradley’s assistroid. Legally. Kind of.
Nero was pulled from his thoughts by a groan from behind him and an arm tightening around his torso.
“I can hear you thinkin’ from over here. Yer interrupting my beauty sleep,” said Bradley, burying his head into the crook of Nero’s neck.
“Too bad. It’s time to get up, fucker,” Nero shot back, ignoring how low and groggy Bradley’s voice sounded next to his ear.
“Yer real cute, princess, but I don’t wanna. The force can survive a day without its chief, can’t it?” Bradley said, a shit-eating grin audible in his words. His breath was hot against Nero’s neck
“Like hell it can, Brad,” Nero said, prying Bradley’s arms off of him, standing up, and stretching. His sweatpants were rolled around his calves and his shirt was wrinkled. He could feel Bradley’s eyes on his back. “That whole place crumbles if yer not there.”
“Heh. I know that,” Bradley said proudly, sitting up on the edge of their bed, clasping his hands together, and laying his elbows over his legs. Nero laughed shortly.
“Bastard. I should stop feedin’ yer ego,” Nero said, pulling his shirt over his head and rifling through his drawer to find a clean one.
The blue lily crest on his arm glowed softly.
✎⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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