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skelezomperman · 1 year

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Ranking my fanfics in a tier list

Why am I doing this when nobody will read this? No special occasion, I just have been feeling it for some time.

1. Because I can. 2. Because it’s fun. (Also I think later this month marks three years since I first started on a draft for the first time...)

I think I’ve also mentioned every non-substitute FE4 character at least once in a fanfic of mine...I think Amid, Laylea, Asaello, and Daisy are the ones that are left, so hopefully one day. Enough rambling - on to the tier list.

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S-Tier - A fic which, while not perfect, is still not something that I can compare to anything else I’ve done.

A Tale of Star-Crossed Knights - Jugdral, relatively speaking, doesn’t have that many fics. The amount of fics that are long enough to be novel-length are very few - probably a couple dozen, if that. As of this post, this fic is the ninth longest FE4-specific fanfiction on AO3. It takes a unique stance though by focusing on this rarepair between Finn and Erinys which I dreamed of one day because of a random Reddit comment. I can see errors in it which I’ll probably correct in the future but overall this was well-received. Writing this really did change me and it improved my skill. I can say many more words about this but I’ll keep it brief: I hope that this one takes a place among the most memorable fics produced for that game.

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A-Tier - The ones that I would show to people first if they asked.

And Life Went On - This was based on a prompt list which was passed onto me about pairings. I decided that I wanted the challenge of writing about more Jugdral pairings so I did one 100-word drabble for each prompt with a completely different couple. People really loved it and I liked writing this slice-of-life interspersed with Jugdral’s canon. There’s even a couple chapters which eventually turned into standalone pieces and I’m sure more chapters will turn into standalone pieces in the future.

Taking Stock - If you asked me which story I think was the best composed, I would point to this one. Catria isn’t even my favorite Whitewing but she has so much potential and many good fanfic authors have already explored this potential. While neither of her sisters play prominent roles, I think this piece shows the complicated feelings that Catria has towards them. She’s a bit jealous of Palla being a tad more successful even though Catria is better at feelings and she feels grief over Est’s departure and still somewhat blames herself for it. And the Marth scene too - it’s a good portrayal of it without going in an immature direction.

Yearning - My favorite Finn/Lach piece is not even one where they get together. This was meant as a spiritual successor to the true ending of A Knight’s Weak Feelings, the idea being “what if Finn became friends with Lachesis but never completely moved past his feelings for her?” All the feelings in Finn’s mind feel so real to me. This is almost my preferred version of him and Lachesis. Almost.

A Knight’s Weak Feelings - I had a very vivid image of this scene one day, where Finn is very guilty for feeling attracted to Lachesis and tries to hide it from her. The emotions were more vivid than nearly any of my other inspirations. My only regret was pulling a punch and not immediately going with the “they became friends” ending. I still love this one though.

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B-Tier - These ones are good but not necessarily my favorites.

Divine Wind, Earth Lance - The Ced/Altena fanfic, basically, for the five people who really like that ship. I think I did this relationship much better in A Tale of Star-Crossed Knights though their arc ripped off this fic anyways. Still, it was my first real attempt at a longer romance piece and I think it prepared me for my later fics.

Goodbye, Velthomer - To my surprise, I saw a month ago or so that someone actually recommended this piece. It was very heartwarming that people liked this one. The idea isn’t original but my spin was putting it in the canon of A Tale of Star-Crossed Knights especially with Arthur being born immediately before the Battle of Belhalla. The grief that these two feel when departing Grannvale, I think I did a good job with that. Grief is a strength in my writing anyways.

Bond - This is a Seliph/Muirne scene from And Life Went On which I really liked. The biggest thing I like about this relationship is how Muirne feels inadequate because of the class difference. I think I did a great job here!

A Heartfelt Conversation - The Finn and Jeanne father/daughter relationship is something that is barely explored, if ever. One similarity that you can draw here is that both lack holy blood. I think I could have wrote that in.

A Frigid Night - Spinoff of A Tale of Star-Crossed Knights though the idea predates that. This was an idea which is harder to execute because “characters sleeping together” could, in the wrong hands, turn into something which isn’t that innocent. But instead, the piece turned out well and it showcases the dynamic in this relationship. And it was cute too.

Mistaken Identity - Based on an art piece showing Erinys, Palla, and a few other green-haired ladies working in a diner. Surprisingly, I think this one was written fairly well. I liked making backstories for those two characters and a couple others like Minerva in a modern AU. I probably won’t pursue expanding it but I won’t rule it out.

Snow Day - Eldigan/Grahnye fluff with some Ares/Lene fluff at the end. Two of my favorite ships. I like the interaction between the scenes.

Tears - Glade/Selphina, a ship that I like but which I haven’t written well about. This one does the job, I think, but I do like how I showed their relationship.

Leif’s Nightmare - Originally a crackfic idea but somehow it turned out well. Though I ended up liking Seliph/Nanna for real eventually...

Observing a Legacy - Recent one about an OC from A Tale of Star-Crossed Knights. I think it’s pretty good for my first attempt at writing from an OC’s perspective.

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C-Tier - I’m ambivalent on them. They’re neither good nor bad.

Divergent Perspectives of the Lady of Nordion - Wordy title aside, my first ever fanfic still holds up decently well. I still think it does a good job of showing different ways the Beo/Finn/Lach triangle could have gone. Definitely some awkwardness from being a novice but I like it for what it is.

Glare - Finn/Lach goodness, can’t resist.

Wise Words - This one is actually funny, the one where Shannan almost swears.

Kind Emperor - Based on a commission by a friend. I love Seliph/Muirne but I did do a better rendition once.

A Mother’s Protection - Mainly to try to show the relationship between Julia and her mother. It’s good enough though I lament that it was influenced by Her Shadowy Protector by LaughingX-Naut. Not that anything is wrong with that fic but I prefer original ideas.

Promise - Longer version of an entry from As Life Went On for Julia Week, it was decent enough.

Her Destiny - I like the Julia/Lewyn dynamic and I think this is a decent retelling of it.

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D-Tier - Not my favorites, something about them bothers me.

Counting Down to Christmas - Tried to do As Life Went On with more pairings, just didn’t end up turning out well. Didn’t get received as well either. I should probably try to do Roy/Lilina or whatever on its own instead.

The Luminous Rider’s Promise - An earlier fanfic exploring the sibling relationship between Leif/Altena. I would definitely want to rewrite it to make it longer if I got the chance.

Flowers - Generic one-shot of Eliwood grieving over Ninian. It’s just bland.

Dew’s Moment - I’m grateful that this one gave me a chance to get in form for writing again back in 2022, but there’s nothing special about it.

A Life for a Life - There was no need to rip off the (catholic) Rosary and use that as a storytelling device. Minerva could have reflected on Michalis’ life some other way.

Restoring Color to a Forget-me-not - I attempted to write a counterpart to the Finn/Lachesis scene with the Earth Sword in the Oosawa manga adaptation. Unfortunately, I don’t think it really provided much unique content. But surprisingly it got 19 kudos as of March 2023 probably because people like Finn/Lach.

Servant of the Wind - In retrospect, I feel like this one goes through the same motions that most fanfics about Gen 2 Lewyn do. It’s honestly boring and I especially hate that I put a “happy ending” where he reunites with Erinys in the afterlife. I wouldn’t do that again.

Warmth in the Freezing Rain - So, the idea here was basically to go down the same road as A Frigid Night but with Minerva/Palla instead. Unfortunately, I can’t say I like how it turned out. It has a weird aura to it where it’s not really “cute” and I don’t like that vibe from my writing. Probably my least favorite fanfic which is unfortunate because I love Minpalla as a pairing.

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F-Tier - Literally unfinished.

A Troubadour and a Princess - This one was my first attempt at an epistolary format. I released it to celebrate the first anniversary of the FEH To Stay Dreaming banner which to this day is still my favorite seasonal in that game. Unfortunately, real life happened and I never got ideas to continue after Chapter 1. I think this one will stay on hold forever.

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So there we have it, thirty fics all tiered. (I excluded the four “draft fics” for A Tale of Star-Crossed Knights and Under the Setting Sun wasn’t included either since it’s still in progress.) It was nice to get to review my thoughts about them and get them on paper. I don’t know who’s actually going to read this but if you read this, thank you. Maybe in the future I’ll write more meta posts like this.

#no fe tags to avoid clogging that up #reviewing my fanfics

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engekihaikyuu · 3 years

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View from the Top 2 - Review

Check out the Read More if you’d like to hear about this show! Askbox is open as well if you’d like me to elaborate on anything out of this.

Before I begin my review of the final show, I do want to start with some caveats:

So as I mentioned previously, the production once again went with PIA for their live streaming platform, which means that live streaming this show is very inaccessible for anyone living outside of Japan.

PIA is a ticketing platform that requires a working Japanese phone number in order to finish activating/registering a new account because you must call the number provided to finish account verification. So without a Japanese contact or a Japanese phone number, this platform is basically impossible.

I have a generous friend in Japan who was willing to share her account information with me, which is how I was able to pay for a show and use her log-in to watch the stream. I did not see this show in-person; I do not live in Japan and obviously travel is off-limits. Even if I did live in Japan, I would have qualms about going to the theater.

There are some logistical issues with this show because of the current pandemic, with the most visually obvious one being the small face shields the actors wear on-stage. They basically serve as protection against direct spittle, but obviously they do nothing to guard against aerosol spread; putting on the play is still an incredible risk to the performers and staff. Another difficulty they face is the fact that Tokyo is still continuing to maintain a nightly curfew. Every evening Tokyo performance needed to be bumped earlier so that spectators can leave the theater in time to make it home for that curfew. Keeping that in mind, the show is a surprisingly condensed 2.5 hours long, where I would have expected 3 hours given the amount of content it covered. This does affect the pacing in Act 2 noticeably, and I get the feeling that were it not for covid and the current curfew restrictions, it would feel a little less rushed at the end.

So, with all that said, here are my thoughts on Engeki Haikyuu’s final play, The View from the Top 2!!! This is absolutely not spoiler-free, for both the play’s content and everything that happened in the manga finale, so if you have not finished the series, this is your last chance to turn back.

Now that I think about it, I haven’t written a full review on a show since Fly High, so I’m a bit rusty at this, and I’ll probably leave out a lot so as always, my askbox is open for people’s additional questions!

The absolute main theme of this play (and really of the entire Haikyuu story) is the friendship and rivalry between Hinata and Kageyama, and the theme: I’m not alone. Engeki really did right by our dual protagonists by framing the final show as showing both of their journeys from beginning to end. Act 1 begins with that familiar sequence from the very first show: Hinata seeing the little giant on TV, being inspired to start playing volleyball, his struggle to find a team in middle school, losing to Kageyama in his one and only middle school tournament, and finding him again at Karasuno. They repeated the scene almost exactly as it was in the first show, and I think it was very smart of them to show us Daigo’s version of it, so to speak. That way we have a more cohesive vision of Hinata from the beginning of his journey to the end. Then they absolutely FLOOD the stage with a montage of projections with footage from all of the shows from the past five-and-a-half years. So already it’s pretty emotional for me, seeing how far the play had come as well as how far Hinata had come in the story.

To parallel this, the beginning of Act 2 actually begins with baby Kageyama. Yes, the baby Kageyama flashback with his sister and grandfather and how he started volleyball. We see Kageyama’s volleyball journey from childhood (for this they used a small doll similar to the dolls they used for young Kuroo and Kenma from Revival) to playing at Kitagawa Daiichi, to losing his grandfather, to being labeled the King of the Court, to defeating Hinata, and then having Hinata find him at Karasuno. And then they once again, they flood the stage with projections with past show footage, but this time they are more Kageyama-centric in the way that the previous ones were often Hinata-centric. And it just really highlights how much these two are meant to share the stage as the two main characters.

To see this framework and to know what’s going to come at the end, with the two of them reuniting in the pro-volleyball arena… just the beginning of Act 2 alone had me in tears. Another way they paralleled their respective journeys was to show us who have influenced them. In Act 1, there’s a dance with Hinata, Hoshiumi, and Udai (all little giants… well, Tsukishima’s in there too because he’s feeling a particular competitiveness with Hinata in this part of the match). In Act 2, there’s a dance with Kageyama, Atsumu, and Oikawa, because Atsumu and Oikawa are the setters who have had the most influence on Kageyama, and he’s drawing on what he’s learned from them for this match. They are not alone in their journeys, they have had people inspire them and be inspired by them in addition to having the support of their teammates.

The Karasuno vs Kamomedai match is interspersed with bits of action from the Fukurodani vs Mujinazaka match, so the stage was pretty busy for basically the entire time. The wires are back for some sequences so that both Hinata and Hoshiumi have a chance to fly, and there are plenty of acrobatics and lifts, and the same incredible soundtrack we love. Ryuu’s Hoshiumi is the obvious standout on Kamomedai for how many lifts he had, and they definitely tried to have him running around on the stage about as much as Hinata. It was notable how much they drew on past techniques and music for various parts of this match, since this is meant to be Karasuno at their peak. When Asahi was feeling particularly stuck/trapped against Kamomedai’s defense, they incorporated the tying-up visual they had previously used in Winners and Losers, with Kamomedai basically tying up and holding Asahi in place with ribbon. There was Summer of Evolution music when Karasuno does a great synchro attack, and the extras-wearing-Hinata-masks reappeared to show us Hinata’s “afterimage” as he flashes around the stage. If you’ve seen all the plays, you can’t miss these call-backs.

The flow of the match was fast. They hit the highlight plays and the highlight emotional moments, but we are clearly past the point where they need to narrate the actual volleyball to us. There was more dancing/acrobatics than attempting to place the two teams on either sides of a physical net with more overt volleyball moves. Everything was more intertwined and fluid than that. And actually now that I think about it, they have been sparse with their usage of a physical net in the past few shows, because everything has been a little more fast-paced overall.

They definitely wanted to highlight Karasuno’s rise throughout the game, to show that they were absolutely a formidable team, that they deserved to be at Nationals, and to show us all the ways that Hinata and Kageyama had grown. For most of Act 2 leading up to Hinata’s collapse, it really feels like they could win this. And I think it makes it that much harder for Hinata to accept being benched, because the team is riding this high and doing so well, and even Kageyama’s more visibly having fun. I think Takeda-sensei easily has a third of the best lines in the series. His speech to Hinata during the Kamomedai match is one that was really gut-wrenching to read when those chapters came out, and it was great to hear it said aloud.

And here is something I’ve never been able to point out because I didn’t do reviews for the past two tours, but I think Daigo’s voice is one of the strongest aspects of his Hinata. I’m sure a lot of that has to do with the work he’s done as a voice actor, but when he cries or whimpers, it is genuinely the most pitiful noise. A lot of Kenta’s portrayal of Hinata’s frustrations throughout the story had an undercurrent of anger and frustration. He’s upset, but there’s always something behind it that says, “well next time, it’ll be different.” And I think Daigo replaces most of that with pure sadness, especially for this scene. After Takeda-sensei lectures him good and proper, and he accepts that he needs to leave, he just sounds so broken. It doesn’t have that anger and drive underneath, he’s just in despair. And why wouldn’t he be? A part of him understands this is the last match he’ll ever play with this team, his first real team.

We then see Hinata bundled up in a coat and scarf, watching the rest of the match from the tablet that Kenma gives him. Snow begins to fall on the stage as he slowly wanders through it, with Karasuno and Kamomedai finishing out the rest of the match around him. Engeki Haikyuu has always allowed for the losing team in a match to line up at the edge of the stage, say thank you to the audience, bow, and take their leave. It’s so symbolic, and it’s so emotional for the actors and for the audience who are in the theater. It’s a moment that just barely breaks the fourth wall, when they turn to us, the spectators, to say, “Thank you for your support.” And they mean it both in and out of character. And I was so so so sad when I realized that Karasuno would take their final bow as a team without Hinata in the lineup. He’s in the back of the stage, separated from his team, and he does take a bow, but it’s very lonely.

Now, I’m sure people are very curious about the timeskip material, and mostly I just have to preface with: it’s fast. It does not take up as much of Act 2 as you might think. It’s boom, boom, boom, cameo here, pre-recorded projections there, patissier Tendou interview, Kuroo in a suit doing a promotional commercial for the V-League, Kageyama’s curry commercial, a projected Osamu selling his rice balls, get the old team together, fateful encounters in front of the bathroom, GO! The only thing we see of the Brazil arc is Hinata having a brief flashback to tell Kageyama that he met Oikawa while he was in Brazil. It’s very short, and that’s all we get for his time in Brazil. Basically, the play is not the place to see Hinata’s journey and growth from those chapters because he goes through so much of it alone, and there’s just no time. The Brazil arc also brings back a lot of technical details about volleyball itself, especially as Hinata is learning the beach version, and that’s an area where the manga is the best medium to examine the finer details of the sport. I can see why a play version would gloss over the technical details to focus on the emotional arc, which is in this case, Hinata and Kageyama.

Because of how fast the ending is, it definitely feels made for the people who already read the manga; Previous Engeki Haikyuu shows have always presented the story in a way that was very friendly to those who may not have read the manga or watched the anime. You could watch just Engeki Haikyuu and not feel like you were missing out on references/jokes for the most part, but this ending would be way harder to follow for those not familiar with what’s already happened.

It’s difficult because I do feel like Act 2 was overly condensed to wrap up this story, but I also don’t think the timeskip material is enough for a whole play on its own. If we had stopped at the end of the Kamomedai match, and had a whole separate play to cover Brazil and the Jackals vs Adlers match… the pacing would’ve been slow and low energy especially in the first half, and it would be an odd choice for the final show of a series like this. My preference would have been for this play to have been three acts, three hours, so that we could linger on some of those timeskip moments a little more, slow it down, and let them land emotionally. But clearly the covid situation prevents that in this case. That being said, I don’t think any of those timeskip moments could really hit as hard as when I first read them in the manga. Narratively, that Haikyuu timeskip was so unexpected and so outside the normal sports anime formula, that the initial shock is extremely hard to top. It was fun to see how they presented everyone in the future (seeing Noya on that boat catching a giant swordfish, or seeing Ennoshita almost break a patient’s back) in stage form, but it’s unreasonable to expect them to give us the same feeling of ?!?!?!? when we first read that Noya was in Italy of all places after waiting weeks and weeks for him to show up.

I still cried in several places, it’s still a great ending to one of the best 2.5D franchises in existence, and it still feels like the culmination of their legacy. I don’t know how it would be possible for anyone to watch that ending sequence with all of the team flags and the chanting of their names, and NOT cry.

There are no more live streams until they complete the rest of their tour and then there will be a live-stream of the very last show, which I will be watching with a towel in hand for my tears. Feel free to send in any questions if you’d like, and if you would like some Strongest Challengers or Trash Heap merch, I have a sales post that I recently made.

#Haisute #Engeki Haikyuu #Hyper Projection Engeki Haikyuu #Final Show #View from the Top 2 #review #reviews #2300 word vomit for any who are interested

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cherrynojutsu · 3 years

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Title: Like Gold

Summary: Sasuke grapples with love and intimacy regarding his developing relationship with Sakura after returning to the village from his journey of redemption. Kind of a character study on Sasuke handling an intimate relationship after dealing with PTSD and survivor’s guilt in solitude for so long. Blank period, canon-compliant, Sasuke-centric, lots of fluff and pining, slowly becomes a smut fest with feelings.

Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.

Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)

AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes beginning/ending author's notes

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Chapter 3/?: Focalize

It is a tranquil spring evening by the time Sakura appears within view behind the hospital's glass entryway, a blur of carnation and sage and ivory. It is just a few minutes past seven; it seems she is waving goodbye to what he assumes is the receptionist further into the building, out of sight. Then she’s pushing one of the doors open with her shoulder and coming into focus, pastel colors subdued in dusk.

Sasuke notices she’s carrying a plain tote bag, and that there are also two large books and what looks like something reminiscent of a magazine in her hands, neatly stacked and held to her chest. She is wearing a sweater that is slightly oversized, a desaturated green.

Her face lights up when she sees him standing there, leaning against one of the blue columns situated a few steps away, closer to the road; her expression belays something like a mixture of ardor and avidity, and as she approaches, he also observes her cheeks match her hair.

His heart swells pleasantly in his chest; any shred of loneliness he felt in the past few hours dissolves.

“Sasuke-kun,” she chimes in affectionate greeting as she ambles over to him, all lenity and upturned lips.

“Sakura.” Her eyes flash lighter, more vibrant, as she gets closer; they are reflecting glow from a nearby streetlight that flipped on promptly at seven, an electrified yellow-green.

There is a short moment in time where they just gaze at each other, scant amount of steps between them, an oblivion of chartreuse and charcoal in spring twilight.

“How was your first day back?” She finally asks, smiling up at him.

He thinks it over for a second as he studies her, a gentle breeze of springtide. “...Fine. I saw Kakashi and the dobe.”

Her smile shifts into a knowing one. “I’m going to guess paperwork and Ichiraku’s.”

He pulls the health screening forms out of his pocket in answer, and her dimple makes an appearance.

“You can come by tomorrow just after eight in the morning, if that works for you; I’ll be here.” Different hours than today, then, he presumes.

He feels he should clarify that she’s not coming in early just for his sake. “...Shouldn’t I make an appointment?”

Sakura shakes her head. “Thursdays and Fridays I don’t have appointments or surgeries until a little later in the day. The majority of those mornings are set aside for medical research and correspondence with some of the clinics. As long as it’s before eleven, I can step away from things for a bit.”

Research. Interesting. She hadn't mentioned much about that in her letters; he hadn't realized it was something she did regularly. “What kind of research?”

She blinks in surprise, and he thinks she looks a little sheepish. “...It depends. Right now we’re doing some longitudinal studies on mice; behavioral assessment in accordance with certain stimuli, neurobiological response, brain scans, that sort of thing... I’ve also got some poisons I’m looking at for antidote development, but they’re pretty rare, so it’s not super pressing.”

His eyes flick to the books in her arms, a silent question. Her lips quirk upwards even more, then; he tries not to focus on them for too long, because she’s shifting the texts so he can read the titles. The thin magazine-like one is labeled Progress in Neuro-Psychopharmacology and Biological Psychiatry; it must be a research journal. The top book reads Neuroanatomy Through Clinical Cases, and the other reads Molecular Mechanisms of Neurotransmitter Release.

“...Some light reading,” he comments dryly, his version of a joke, and he revels in her soft exhale of breath, a shy version of a laugh. He has missed it.

“I suppose. I actually need to return these; they’re almost due. I meant to do it yesterday, but...” She’s blushing again. Vivid eyes meet his hesitantly before sweeping away. “...I forgot.”

Heat edges up his neck.

“I… wasn’t sure what you wanted to do this evening,” she continues, pursing her lips a little as her fingers clutch the books closer to her again. “I thought maybe we could swing by the library? I’d like to take a quick look to see if they have some new things in yet; it shouldn’t take very long.”

Sasuke muses that Sakura absolutely is the type to visit the library regularly. He used to go often, when he was younger. He wasn’t checking out books of that caliber, though; he wonders how long she’s had them. He also ponders momentarily if rogue ninja status is enough for the powers that be to revoke your library card from the system. Probably.

He hasn’t been able to read regularly for awhile, being away; books have been unnecessary weight, something extra to carry, and also a distraction from what he was trying to accomplish. Though he would accompany her wherever regardless, he realizes he would like to start reading again. It would be something to occupy his free time, when she is busy.

He nods his assent.

“Okay,” she breathes, looking a little relieved and meeting his eyes again, luminescent jade. "They close at eight today, so we should probably get going."

He nods again, glancing down at the books still in her arms. He considers for a second, then holds his hand out. Sakura blinks in confusion, long lashes skimming her cheekbones.

“...I’ll carry them,” he offers, neck heating up again as she stares. “...If you’d like.”

Her skin blooms with color, darker than earlier. “Oh. Thank you.” She hands them to him carefully, soft fingers brushing his. Her touch is delicate, incredibly distracting; her glowing cheeks, even moreso.

She adjusts her bag over her shoulder and then turns; he falls into step next to her as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

They walk just east of the hospital, which tells him the library is likely still in the same location, despite Konoha’s changing landscape. Some of the buildings they pass along the way are under construction. That seems to be a recurring theme in the village right now; much of what he saw earlier today passing through with Naruto was the same. Sasuke wonders if the library will have expanded, too. He doesn’t think he’s passed by it, yet.

There are a few people milling about, but not nearly as many as earlier. He supposes the majority of residents must be retired for the evening, inside their homes with family. There are a few restaurants they pass that smell fairly appetizing, but Sakura doesn’t say anything, so he concludes he was right in thinking that she has eaten already.

“So, how were things with Kakashi-sensei and Naruto?” Sakura asks conversationally, peering up at him from his right. “Anything other than paperwork?”

Sasuke contemplates before responding. “...Naruto and I went apartment hunting.”

Pink brows furrow a little bit as she grins. “Did you invite him?” She asks, though he suspects by her expression she already knows the answer.

He shakes his head. “Kakashi mentioned it as I was leaving and he invited himself.”

She laughs, then, glancing in the direction of the mountain of faces at their old sensei. “Yeah, that sounds like him. He probably appreciated a morning with Naruto out of his hair. He’s been helping there a lot, when he’s not on missions.” She pauses, then adds, “I imagine apartment hunting with Naruto would be pretty draining, though. He’s gotten a little better at cooling it with the nonstop chatter since Hinata, but not by a ton.” She stops again, thinking, before inquiring, “Did you end up finding a place?”

Sasuke nods. “It’s north of here.”

She smiles again, then purses her lips as if she’s considering whether to say something more or not. Finally she adds, green eyes darting to his and then looking away shyly, “...Not too far away, then.”

His gaze softens. “...Not too far.”

They amble by a few street vendors selling gardening supplies, closing up carts for the evening; they must be doing fairly well, as all that’s left over from the day's plantable wares are saplings here and there, and a few starters, small labels detailing their required care poking up from the dirt containers they’re sitting in. There are several taller displays interspersed between carts, stocked with watering cans, spades, gloves, and the like. Sasuke thinks it is quite trusting of the merchants to leave their goods out overnight, evidently without fear that they will be stolen or damaged; many of them are walking away holding only money boxes. It speaks to the relative security of Konoha, in comparison to most of the places he's been.

“Did you get everything you needed for your apartment today?” Sakura asks him after they meander a few more steps.

He blinks. “...Mostly."

“Was there something in particular you wanted to do, after the library? We could stop by a store, if they’re open, and get what you're missing.”

He shakes his head, then admits, “I… didn’t have anything planned.” He worries, then, that maybe he was supposed to plan something. They’re together now, or at least he hopes they are; he'd kissed her, and he would like to, again, if they're alone. Maybe this should have been more formal. He then thinks he should answer the second part of her inquiry: a box and a drying rack would probably be easy to find at a general store, but the majority of places in Konoha that are open past seven only sell food. “...I think the store I went to closed at seven,” he adds.

Sakura looks as if she’s deliberating again. “What are you missing, still?” He notices she doesn’t seem upset that he didn’t plan anything; maybe it’s okay.

It takes him a moment to respond, carefully. “...A small storage box, and a laundry rack.”

She brightens. “I actually have a spare drying rack that I'm not using, if you want it. The washing machine in my unit broke in February, and when my landlady replaced it, she got a washer/dryer combo.” She thinks, then adds, “...And I think I have an empty shoebox in my closet; would that be big enough?”

Something like serendipity unfolds in Sasuke’s chest and begins to vine between his ribs. He thinks unbidden of the blooming cherry blossom tree he can see from his window, just within reach, if he only goes beyond the glass.

He nods. “...Thank you.”

Multifaceted eyes peer up at him warmly. “No problem.” Her cheeks darken again. “We could… walk for a while, and then swing by there at the end. If you want.” Her fingers are gripping the strap of her bag a little tighter. “I wouldn’t mind walking by your building at some point before that, so I… so I know where it is.”

Sasuke nods again, heart skipping a little. He had hoped she would show him where her apartment is tonight, too; he would like to walk her home. He also hopes ‘walk for a while’ means he gets to spend more time with her between the library and going by his building, before they go to hers.

He thinks maybe he should voice that. It comes out as a question. “...We could walk around a bit after the library?”

She’s gazing up at him with red cheeks and smiling with a gentle light in her eyes. “...I’d like that,” she murmurs.

His ears feel warm again.

They turn a corner, and then they are at the library. There is a small expanded portion of the building on the south side now, and it is painted a slightly different mauve-leaning gray than it used to be, but otherwise it appears the same. When they near the entrance, Sakura pulls open the door for him, since his hand is occupied.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, before they head inside, bell on the door jingling.

The librarian working at the front desk nods at Sakura in recognition as they enter, a fairly young woman with chestnut hair. The librarian Sasuke remembers was quite a bit older, elderly now that he’s thinking about it. He briefly wonders if she passed away in his absence. The thought makes him morose; he hopes she just retired. She had always been kind to him.

“Finished with those already, Sakura?” The woman asks, friendly and motioning to the books in Sasuke’s arm as he makes his way to the desk to set them down, Sakura beside him. She must know her well.

“Yes; the journal was interesting, this time. Very relevant to the experiments we're running, and much more substantial than the last edition.” There is something somewhat critical in her voice regarding the referenced last edition, as if something in it wasn’t up to her academic standards. She’s well within reason to be captious; she has become an expert in her field in a rapid amount of time, and if she’s doing research regularly, he’s sure she has the data to back up her assessment. He wonders just what kind of experiments she’s running that have to do with neuro-psychopharmacology; whatever they are, he imagines they must be complex.

The woman is wearing a name tag that reads Ichika, Sasuke can see now that they’re closer. Sakura pulls out what must be her library card from her tote bag; it’s connected to a lanyard with several keys and what he presumes is an ID badge for the hospital.

“Thank you," the librarian says as Sakura hands her card over. As she does so, the woman glances at Sasuke with brown eyes, and then back to Sakura, as if waiting for an introduction. “And this is?”

“This is Sasuke,” she answers, smiling, then adds, “Uchiha.”

“Welcome,” the woman named Ichika greets him, without any malice. Sasuke wonders if she just doesn’t know who he is, or if she’s being friendly because of Sakura’s presence. Maybe it’s because she’s a civilian.

“...Thank you,” he offers sincerely after a moment.

“It was nice of you to carry those books. I know from experience they’re quite heavy. My name’s Ichika.” She gestures to her name tag. “I don’t suppose you like to read as much as Sakura does?” Ichika laughs as she hands Sakura’s card back and starts scanning the books as returned. “I think by now there are more books in the library that she’s read than ones she hasn’t.”

Sasuke glances at Sakura knowingly, and she looks downwards bashfully for a second.

“...I like to, but I don't think I’d understand half of what’s in these,” Sasuke answers honestly, turning his gaze back to the librarian. He sees Sakura flush out of the corner of his eye.

Ichika laughs. Sasuke thinks then that she really must not know of his prior rogue ninja status. “I usually have her write down the titles of the books she’d like us to add, because I don’t know that I can even spell some of the words.” She squints at the last book. “ Molecular Mechanisms of Neurotransmitter Release. I haven’t the faintest idea what a neurotransmitter is, or what it would be releasing.”

Sakura smiles. “Neurotransmitters are the body’s chemical messengers. A release is when the neurotransmitter causes a response in the receiving neuron; they can be disrupted in diseases and biological toxins. Tetanus is a good example; it goes up synaptic terminals of interneurons where it blocks the release of inhibitory neurotransmitters. The result of the block is that motorneurons become overactive, and then cause muscle contractions and spastic paralysis, like lockjaw.”

Ichika blinks blankly. “I don’t know where you keep that information in your head, Sakura, because it certainly wouldn’t fit in mine. Guess I’ll try not to step on any nails in the meantime.” She’s shaking her head, but her tone is amicable. “Well, they’re all checked in, with a few days to spare. I left out the new journals and that other book you asked about in the usual spot, back in the Medicine section.”

Sakura nods, and the librarian’s gaze turns back to him.

"Would you like a library card?”

Sasuke is glad he won’t have to ask. “...I used to have one. I’m not sure if it’s still on file.”

“I can check our records, if you want to browse in the meantime. If it’s not still on file, we can set you up with a new one; you can take books today either way, if you find some you’re interested in.”

Sasuke nods; that was easier than he thought it would be. “...Thank you.” Ichika turns to approach a row of filing cabinets a bit further back behind the main desk area, he assumes to check for his name in their database; he turns to Sakura.

She’s smiling at him as if she wants to ask him a question, but she doesn’t say anything. When she turns to journey further back into the library, he follows. They pass through two interior rooms, organized by genre and alphabet just the same as they had been years ago. The shelves are a little fuller than they used to be; with the population expanding, it makes sense that they now have a wider selection available.

They turn a corner to another interior room, and suddenly he sees a familiar face. His replacement is hunched over in a corner, nose buried in a book that appears from its cover to be about painting. When Sasuke inspects the rest of the room, he sees that the majority of the books in this section have titles related to art.

“Oh, hey, Sai,” Sakura greets casually, heading over to him. Dark eyes glance up at her from his book. Seeing him here must be a regular occurrence, given her lack of surprise.

"Hello, Ugly,” he responds, somehow both cheerful and monotone all at once. Sasuke frowns. He’d been around Sai a few times following the war, before he left for his travels. He never liked his nickname for Sakura.

Sai then looks to him, still standing at the threshold of the room, keeping his distance. He knows him, but not well.

“Welcome back, Traitor," he adds, tone friendly enough. Sasuke supposes that one’s fair. He inclines his head minutely, hand in his pocket.

Sai twists his gaze back to Sakura. "Have you recovered from your birthday extravaganza?"

Sakura blanches and stiffens a little in surprise as Sasuke eyes her with great interest; clearly this was not something she’d expected to be asked about. "Uh… Yeah. It doesn't take long; I eat during and can heal my headache the morning after."

Sai nods. “Yes, Beautiful said you didn’t get nearly as plastered as she wanted you to.” The way he says it is with way too positive of an inflection, as if he’s talking about it being great weather outside instead of crude wording for getting drunk.

Sakura rolls her eyes, then. “She would think that.” She pauses, then looks at Sai carefully. "Ino should be back tonight, right?"

"Yes. I am excited. I'm feeling quite amorous."

Sasuke twitches and his frown sinks deeper, but Sakura rolls her eyes as if she is used to this lack of filter, and gently pushes his book into his face, firmly but carefully so as not to damage it.

"Too much information. Just say you miss her."

Sai smiles as he moves the book away. "It is less information than Beautiful gives."

"That's because she's not normal," Sakura replies, sighing. Sai nods almost mechanically, as if he is cataloging this tidbit on human social interaction away in a filing cabinet for future reference.

There is a pause that is just a bit too long, before Sai offers, “I am researching for an upcoming painting.” Sasuke doesn’t know Sai well enough to understand, but Sakura does; apparently this is his way of telling her that he is busy with his book.

"I won’t keep you, then. Don't let her forget about our plans, though, and tell her I missed our spar this week."

Sai smiles. "She was preparing a new playlist prior to her mission." This also interests Sasuke, but not as much as Ino trying to get her ‘plastered’. He is for some reason having great difficulty imagining Sakura even a little drunk.

Sakura sighs deeply through her nose this time, and says flatly, with no enthusiasm, "Great.” After a beat, she adds, “Well anyways, tell her I say hi. See you. Good luck with your painting.”

Sai nods, and Sakura then turns to go a different direction, Sasuke following close behind. They pass through four more interior rooms before they finally make it to the Medicine section towards the back of the building, where one book and two more medical journals are sectioned neatly away in an empty portion of shelf. The book is just as thick as the one she’d just returned.

“I didn’t know you liked to read, still,” Sakura mentions as she carefully picks up the stack. She’s smiling at him again; that must be what she wanted to say earlier. Maybe she’d expected Sai would be there, that they would pass through the room he was sitting in, and that’s why she’d held off.

Sasuke nods. “...I haven’t read much in a while.”

Jade eyes are soft on his. “Well, if you want to look for a bit, I could look, too.”

He nods again.

XXX

Roughly twenty minutes later, Sasuke leaves the library with Sakura, comparing what they’ve checked out underneath the streetlight just outside; the light has faded enough that it is a bit difficult to read without it.

They still had his information on file after all, though the woman, Ichika, had him fill out a renewal slip and updated his contact information to his new address before giving him a new card. It is a strangely comforting and nostalgic feeling, to know that he was still present in the archives of Konoha in ways he had been unaware of.

He had picked out two books: one about the history of kenjutsu in Fire Country, and another historical text documenting the overthrow of the daimyo in the Land of Silence. He has never been there, given it is beyond the reach of Shinobi authority; he figured it would be interesting to read about. With it being a samurai-led country, it made sense to read at the same time as the book on kenjutsu.

“These sound like you,” Sakura says after scanning the titles of what he’s picked, glancing up at him kindly as she rotates so he can read the information of her own. Cradled in her arms are the Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience, the other scholarly journal, Human Brain Mapping, the book from the Medicine section titled Translational Research in Traumatic Brain Injury, and what appears to be a fiction book, an addition to the others, titled Spoiled Suitopi.

“You read fiction, too,” he observes as he reads the title of the last one, and she takes this as her cue to shift them back together neatly into one stack, largest to smallest.

She laughs a little. “I try to. It’s a good mental reset after reading medical texts; everything starts to blur together after a while. This was actually a recommendation from Ino; she’s into the dramatic stuff, clearly. Sometimes they’re decent.”

Curiosity gets the better of him, and he decides to ask. “...A birthday extravaganza?”

She smiles timidly, expression shifting to something a little embarrassed. “I wouldn’t call it that; she showed up at my apartment last weekend with ingredients for drinks, and then we watched terrible movies in my living room.”

Sasuke is learning all kinds of things about Sakura this evening. “No Sai?”

She shakes her head. “No, that’s a me and Ino thing; he doesn’t really pick up on the nuance of them being terrible, and we figure we don’t want to give him poor examples to follow… he’s got enough of those already, dating her.” She grins a little, then. “Also, he can’t really handle his liquor.”

Sasuke thinks Sakura must be able to hold hers fairly well; she had seemed pretty confident earlier, regarding the morning after. He knows her mentor Tsunade has quite a reputation. He himself has never drank much.

“He’s... interesting.”

Sakura shrugs nonchalantly. "He's better than he used to be, regarding the oversharing. Ino is worse, honestly.”

He considers her words, then decides to drop the subject, because he doesn’t want to think about that. Sakura had said in her letters that Ino and Sai were together; he can only imagine what she knows about them, likely most of it against her will and learned in the manner he's just witnessed.

He shifts his attention upwards; a few stars are starting to peek their way into the night sky. He follows their path north, to the barest hints of lavender sinking below the horizon. It has become even more silent outside, fewer people and slightly cooler temperatures. There is still a breeze. They spent longer in the library than he'd anticipated.

He’s not sure what time she usually goes to sleep; if she works at eight, it’s probably early. He wonders if he should ask.

“Thank you for going with me. I’m sorry it took a little longer than I thought,” she says, before the question comes to him. He shifts his eyes back towards her; he’s about to tell her not to apologize because he clearly spent time browsing, too, but she’s already speaking again. “You said your apartment is on the north side, right?”

He inclines his head in an affirmative.

“We could walk that direction, if you want; there are a few newer things on that side of town I could point out that are kind of interesting. If…” She pauses, as if considering her wording. “If you haven’t seen them already, I mean.” She gestures to his selection from the library, gripped in his hand. “We could drop off your books, too. Not as much to carry back, then, with the box and the laundry rack.”

“...I’d like that.”

She smiles up at him again, tender effervescence. He realizes as they start making their way north that they both have been talking in more hushed voices, as if the blanket of nighttime shifting atop the village has quieted them in addition to their surroundings.

There is something soothing about treading around at nightfall with her. The village is well-lit enough that it’s fairly easy wandering, and lights emanating from windows cast everything softer, more inviting phosphorescence sifting onto the pathway beneath their feet. Earlier today, trekking back and forth between businesses and his apartment, it had felt more unfamiliar, like there was a disconnect and he was just passing through, despite the knowledge that he was transporting things to a permanent living space. It feels decidedly less transient next to Sakura, a hint of sweetness in tart recollections. He watches their shadows for a fleeting moment, cast close together to the right of them, near touching, and occasionally faded by windowpane glow.

There is a casino she points out a few blocks down where Tsunade apparently used to lose money fairly regularly. She explains it was her mentor’s favorite because it was somewhat close to the residence typically taken up by the Hokage; she used to call it lucky, even though she never won. Sasuke finds out through this story that the Hokage residence is still sitting empty; Kakashi has apparently still not moved there, preferring instead to stay where he has been residing for years. Sakura mentions in a softer tone that she thinks it’s because of his apartment’s proximity to the graveyard where his old teammate, the Nohara girl, is buried.

There is a long stretch of silence in which Sasuke considers just how Kakashi has always seemed able to see straight through him. He’s fairly certain the girl had been a medic, too.

“...Naruto’s house isn’t far from the Hokage’s office, either,” Sasuke observes finally, changing the subject. He’s with her right now; he doesn’t want to ruminate too long. He thinks that's improvement.

Jade eyes sparkle up at him. “No, it’s not. I’m pretty sure that was on purpose; I don’t think they intend to move again. I’m sure he’ll give you the tour eventually - he’s pretty proud of their place; Hinata keeps it pretty nice - but it has some extra rooms.”

He tries not to think about the implications of that for too long. Naruto being in charge of a tiny human is not a very reassuring thought, even with his apparent strides in social awareness.

They pass a yakitori place she mentions is good, a few more blocks down. It seems pretty calm for such a restaurant, not as busy as Ichiraku’s usually is, though it’s later now and they’re likely getting ready to close. “I’ve been there with Naruto and Hinata a few times,” she tells him. “At least, when we can convince him to go eat something other than ramen.”

Sasuke hadn’t realized Sakura was that close with Naruto’s wife, though it makes sense instantaneously; she has known her for years. He thinks for a second before questioning, “Is she still as quiet?”

Sakura purses her lips in thought. “She talks more, now, for sure, but she’s still pretty shy around people she doesn’t know well.” She smiles, then. “I think Naruto has been really good for her, actually. Her for him, too; they balance each other out well.”

He supposes that’s true; perhaps Hinata is the reason for Naruto’s continued emotional growth. He ponders momentarily whether he and Sakura will balance each other out well.

She’s looking at him as if he should say something, so he does. “...He had vegetables in his ramen today.”

Sakura laughs. “Yes, she does force vegetables into his food every once in a while, now, so he's more used to them. I think she might have slipped Teuchi some money to start throwing them in his orders, to be honest."

Sasuke snorts, because of course that would be how that came about.

"It’s for the best," Sakura continues, lips quirking upwards still. He tears his eyes away from her mouth after a second. "He was eating pretty much all noodles and junk for so long. Hopefully it’ll start to cancel out with a few more years.”

As they walk farther, he starts to recognize things from earlier today; a bed of alabaster azaleas surrounding a residential building painted green, and a rather large street sign on a corner, right next to an ornate bench. They are getting fairly close to his apartment building. He holds off on saying something for a little longer, though, because he wants to spend more time with her. He hopes that's not too selfish; he has missed her. A lot.

“There’s an interesting place over there,” Sakura notes, pointing out a clearly aged building that he thinks he walked by on his return trip from the market earlier in the afternoon. “They’re only open two or three days a week, but it’s antiques now. I don’t usually buy anything other than books, but it’s fun to look through; they get rare ones in, from time to time. The owner is really nice.”

He nods. That would be a good way to spend an afternoon. He suspects she must have a collection of books at her apartment, then. He wonders how many.

She is mute for a moment, as if in thought, as they pass through another intersection. He wonders if he should be adding more to the conversation, but it doesn’t feel like an awkward silence; just an easy one.

He spies another familiar sign, this one advertising the market hours. “...My building is a few blocks this way,” he mentions quietly, loath as he is for this evening spent with her to come to an end. She looks up at him for a moment, then nods, and he subtly starts leading her in the general direction of his apartment complex.

His building comes into view a short time later. He points it out right before they pass beneath the cherry blossom tree, and Sakura nods in recognition. “Sai used to live somewhere over in this area, before he moved in with Ino. I’m not sure where, exactly. I know he liked how quiet it was, though.”

Sasuke nods as he pulls his key from his pocket, and they cross the street. He had been right about the light pollution; there is little enough of it that one can see the stars rather clearly, more so than one could from the library.

He wonders if he should perhaps invite her in. He thinks of the letters, still sitting on the small end table in the living room.

She saves him from making the decision. “I’ll wait here,” she tells him politely, leaning up against the old brick. He nods.

He goes up the stairway, down to the last door on the right. Once he unlocks his door, he places the two books on the kitchen table inside, and locks the door again behind him. It only takes him a minute before he is coming down the stairs again.

She smiles at him, then blinks when he holds out his hand. She colors, he thinks, when she realizes he’s offering to carry her books for her again; it’s harder to tell with the lack of light.

As she hands them to him carefully, she says, voice soft, “My place is a little south of the library; not by too much.” Her eyes flit to his, then dart away; there is a careful smile on her lips. “Maybe a little over ten minutes from here.”

They wander together in an easy silence, her leading the way more now. There are a few crickets chirping. It was fairly warm out today, so it makes sense that insects are starting to make their return. A gentle breeze continues to waft through from time to time.

He walks close enough to her that he can faintly smell raspberries, each time the wind blows just right. There are even fewer people out and about now, it being closer to nine in the evening; the road is fairly deserted. They go by the library again, lights turned off, and more closed businesses. It soon transitions into older construction that he assumes must be residential.

She was right; it doesn’t take long, around twelve minutes at a leisurely pace, before she points out a building further down the street. “That’s the one.”

As they get closer, he notes that hers is also an older building, built out of cream brick; there is something nice about that realization, that she also apparently chose something older with a bit of history over something brand new. There are few enough street lights that one can see the stars overhead well at night here, too.

“There’s a patio or balcony attached to each unit,” Sakura remarks once they’re closer, pointing at one on the northernmost part of the second story that is brimming with potted plants, much more than any of her neighbors’. “That one’s mine.”

As they round the corner of the building, he assumes to reach the front entrance, she tells him it was one of the reasons she selected this apartment, aside from its proximity to the hospital and her family's residence. "My parents' house has balconies for both bedrooms. It was strange to imagine not having one. This one’s attached to the bedroom, too; it’s nice to sit out there, if the weather’s not too extreme."

It’s a smaller complex, only two stories high. He thinks there must be six units, given its size and the trio of balconies they passed beneath, three small patios in their shadows on the ground level. It is somewhat close to the hospital, as she’d said, but far enough away that it's not necessarily an area that would bustle with activity, even during the day’s busiest hours; it is very still right now, peaceful. They pass through a glass door that is not locked, leading into a common area with six doors, three on the main level, and then three on the second level, with a metal stairway leading upwards. A huge, two-story high bay window sprawls by the main door, overlaid in a diamond pattern, which must allow light to stream in the majority of the day.

Each of the doors to individual units has at least one or two plants framing it, but he knows which one is hers right away. An array of thriving potted plants surround the upper northernmost side door, spilling out to surround the entire right side of the banister that frames the edges of the building. Hers is also the unit furthest on the upper right, like his; another nice realization. A few of her plants are flowering, but for the most part they are varying shades of green, with accents of paler colors. Desaturated and calming, just as he’d guessed she would like, rather than intensities of marigold and cobalt and fuchsia. It's hard to tell in the dim lighting, but as they get closer, he thinks that the few blooms are pistachio and lavender and blush in color, like her hair.

Or her cheeks. Jade eyes are on him again as he finishes walking up the stairway behind her.

He follows her to her door and leans a little against the railing behind him while she grabs her keys from her bag; he doesn’t think she’d mind if he came in for a few minutes, but she didn’t explicitly invite him, and he wants to be polite.

Once she’s unlocked it, she turns back to him to take her books. Her hand brushes his, and it’s incredibly distracting, again. “I’ll be right back.” She smiles at him before disappearing inside her apartment.

She leaves the door slightly ajar behind her, and he tries not to look. He busies himself with observing what appears by her neighbors’ doorways instead. No light emanates from beneath the doors of any of them; he wonders, this being older construction, if more of the tenants here are older, and are perhaps in bed already. The upper units probably aren’t occupied by extremely elderly people, given the stairs, but the ground level units’ decorations appear more classic and refined, less youthful. He notes the pots surrounding the other doors are very matchy, but Sakura’s are less so; hers are various shades of neutral terracotta colors, soft and inviting, some with unique shapes.

She’s back quickly, foldable drying rack and shoebox in tow, closing her door mostly behind her. She also must have set her tote bag aside; it's no longer situated on her shoulder.

He realizes all at once as she meets his eyes, handing him the items she’s gifting him, that he does not want this evening to end.

“Thank you,” he says, voice husky.

“You’re welcome,” she murmurs, just as hushed.

Sasuke studies her eyes for a long moment, trying to commit the life in them to memory, though he already has, he thinks.

“...May I see you tomorrow after you work?” He finally asks quietly, trying to keep the hope out of his tone. He knows he’ll see her for his medical clearance in the morning, but he would still like to spend time with her outside of that, if she doesn't have plans already.

She looks crestfallen, smile slipping a little before coming back. “I would love to see you, but I have dinner with my parents every other Thursday, since I get off at four. They stopped by for a visit on my actual birthday, but they wanted to do cake and a gift tomorrow night after our usual supper time.” She pauses, searches his expression for a moment. “Maybe the day after tomorrow, if you’re not busy? I get off around four on Fridays, too.”

He nods, committing this part of her schedule to memory. “...I’ll meet you at the hospital, then.”

Her smile gets wider. “Okay. I can show you around the other newer parts of the village, if you’d like. The southwest side has really expanded.”

He nods his head in agreement, thinking. He would like to ask for more time with her, before he starts taking mission assignments again, but he also doesn’t want to monopolize all of it; she has years worth of life here, roots other than him that need tending. He hopes she’s saying yes because she actually wants to, and not simply for his sake.

He takes a deep breath, forcing down nervous vulnerability at his next question. “...And Saturday?”

She blinks, then blushes darker, smile growing wider still. She casts her glance downwards to her feet out of shyness, shifting a bit. “Saturdays I work seven to three; I’m going to stop by the market after for some gardening supplies with Ino, but other than that, I didn’t have anything set in stone.” But then jade eyes flick back up at him, and they are slightly apologetic.

His heart sinks for a second, rejection stinging a little behind his eyes. She doesn’t want to see me that often. He’s been absent for too long. She's probably tired of him already, though she hasn’t said anything. He has enjoyed tonight, but he's aware he doesn't make the best company.

“Naruto sent a clone by this afternoon that was going on about an original Team Seven reunion dinner, though. He mentioned Saturday night as a possibility,” she reveals, and his world comes back into focus, heart reversing upwards back into his chest cavity.

Sasuke huffs amusedly, then, relieved. “...Of course he did.”

She sighs wistfully, shaking her head. “Ichiraku’s, I’m sure. I’m pretty sure I’ve tried everything on the menu in triplicate, at this point.”

He eyes her carefully, trying to dry swallow his fear of rejection like a pill. Corrosion, he thinks. “...After dinner?”

Shimmering seafoam again. Happy, transparently pleased, and he’s glad he asked, shoved away the nerves; he’d do it again in a heartbeat, if it’s going to make her eyes look like that. “Of course. We could… hang out here, if you want. Or was there something you had in mind?”

His gaze softens. “Here is fine,” he answers. It is more than fine, actually. He’d go anywhere, if it meant he could soak in her presence longer, but he’s more than a little curious about what her apartment looks like on the inside. His own is pretty sterile, even now mostly put together after the afternoon, devoid of most anything other than necessities. He has an inkling that Sakura is the type to truly make wherever she's living feel like a home, though, given the pleasant spread of life he’s seen spilling out here on her doorstep.

“Okay,” she confirms, dimple reappearing. “I’ll look forward to it.”

There is something in her eyes after a second, gears turning, a question she must want to ask him.

"Would you…" She's talking even more softly, now, hushed as if she's going to scare him away. Her eyes meet his apprehensively as she shifts her weight from one side to the other. "Would you want to maybe... have tea tomorrow morning? I'm… not sure if you have plans or not, but I have a little time, before I work. There's a good place near the hospital, and then after we could get your exam done at eight like we planned."

The vines between his ribs twist pleasurably. She does want to see him, after all. She's not too busy. She's looking at him nervously, as if he would say no, as if he hasn’t spent the last twenty-four hours longing for her company again.

"...I'll look forward to it," he answers quietly, because he will; he likes tea, occasionally. He thinks he will like it better with her.

Her entire countenance brightens somehow, even as she flushes darker. "Oh. Good." She sounds relieved.

"...I can meet you here," he finds himself saying, and her eyes are sparkling at him, now, at what's implied - longer with her, another walk together. "What time?"

She purses her lips now, apparently still nervous. "Would… seven be too early?" Her voice trails off a little, as if in hesitance, as she finishes the question.

He chooses his next words carefully, meaningfully, so there is no uncertainty. "Not at all."

She regards him then like he has done something wholly wonderful, cheeks a rich red in dim light and expression heart-wrenchingly elated.

There is an expectant pause as the oblivion happens again, dimmer now but just as powerful. He really wants to kiss her; he’s been thinking about it the entire evening. He wonders if she has, too, and if maybe she wants him to. There’s no one around, in this little entry area of her small complex, in front of her door and her plants in faded hues.

He decides to go with his gut.

It’s somehow even better, this time, anticipation and lips meeting and a barely audible exhale of breath through the nose on her part, almost like she’s suddenly at ease; he thinks, pleased, that she must have wanted him to. Her hands gently meet his chest, tentatively pressing against him. He would like to do something with his, but it's still occupied, holding what she's supplied him with. He settles for pressing his lips to hers with a little more confidence than yesterday. It’s tender and over much too quickly, much like the evening they have spent together; all soft light settling, lambent and beguiling.

She is crimson when they part for a breath, before shyly directing her gaze away and shifting back down; he realizes that she must have been standing on the tips of her toes to reach him.

Her hands linger on his chest, and then her gaze comes back up to his, almost determinedly.

“I’m… really happy you’re back.” Her face is still flushed, but she doesn’t look away. Her pupils are dilated, bottomless black dwarfing green.

Heat creeps up his neck. His pulse pounds just below her fingertips, as if she’s tugging at his heartstrings with them.

“...I am, too,” he whispers, before he leans down again.

He thinks that he could stay here forever, clutching all that she’s given him, enveloped in a sweet ambrosia of tart berry and newly unfurling plants and soft lips that he’s thought of all day, now against his again.

She gently drops her hands from his chest when they finally part. She’s smiling; she is so pretty.

“Good night, Sasuke-kun.” Her voice is near a whisper. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“...Good night, Sakura,” he murmurs in response.

XXX

The journey from her place to his really is quite quick; he doesn’t see anyone on his way back. Stars are visible almost the entire way, Leo and Ursa Major and Cassiopeia. The moon is a thin sliver amongst them, raised high in the sky.

Once he's inside, he carefully folds out the drying rack she’s given him in the small laundry closet and lays out damp clothes to allow the air to finish the job. He's glad he didn't need to make another trip to the store. A trip with her was better, and she somehow had just what he needed. He thinks perhaps she always has, and his vision has simply been too blurry, obscured by smudged glass, to see it.

Sasuke retrieves the stack of her letters and places them in the box gingerly so as not to further bend them. He stares at the picture for a long time before also stowing it away, sliding the container onto the shelf in the closet for safekeeping.

He doesn’t feel tired yet, and it's not too cold, so he goes to visit the memorial stone, after, as he’d planned. He feels it is the right thing to do, after having been gone so long.

He confronts many things as he sits there, the bevy of crickets and soft swishing of grass the only sounds on this quiet spring evening, a long list of engravings barely legible in the shadows.

Melancholy is one of them, seeping in slowly, as he’d known it would. Grief and acrimony and betrayal, too. A little bit of anger, still. He also experiences sillage, the aroma of his mother’s flower garden and the scent of his aunt and uncle’s baked goods and the smell of an empty house, all blending together in his olfactory senses like it was yesterday, a bitter incense of nostalgia that is hard on the inhale.

This time, though, semisweet berry and antiseptic are also among them, memory fresh in his nostrils, and he experiences a little bit of comfort, too.

Sasuke doesn’t sleep well, after, but when the nightmare comes, gruesome, and he’s awake for the remainder of the night, he has some books to help steady him until seven comes.

#naruto #sasusaku #ssfanfiction #cherry writes #slow burn indeed we doing a snail's pace out here #like gold #fanfiction

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chaoskirin · 4 years

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Book Review -- The Heartstrikers Series

This is a book review about the first three books in the Heartstrikers Series, which starts with Nice Dragons Finish Last.

I liked these books, but I didn’t love them. It's definitely a solid three stars, and I'll read the last two books to see where it goes. Overall, if you like fantasy with YA elements, you will probably enjoy this series.

This review will contain some minor spoilers in order to justify my rating, with some MAJOR spoilers at the end.

First, the good. The plot is absolutely solid and it's clear the the author had a good idea of what she was going to do before she wrote it. It has a very mobster-type feel which I would expect with the way the dragons are characterized. The writing is occasionally clever and the main character is likable, relatable, and I'm able to empathize with his situation. The author may be projecting a bit as Julius' situation can get a little heavy-handed, but the theme of a found family is definitely present and well-executed.

I love the world that's been created. I'm originally from Detroit, so it was a pleasant surprise to find that the entire first book takes place in a sort of ghost-town version of it. I can picture the descriptions of the houses (I used to work in an old mansion converted in to an office, in fact!) and it's pretty clear that the author is from Detroit, or at least spent a lot of time there. Sometimes it got a little name-droppy as far as locations were concerned, but I kept hoping the author would namedrop the place where I'm from, so it's a fair trade. XD (She did not, sadly, but it was still fun to read about.)

The spirits and how they exist is also very interesting. Algonquin is an amazing villain in the second ant third books, and I can't wait to read more about her and the other spirits in the last two books.

There's also a great amount of action interspersed with the narrative, so that kept things interesting! Some books tend to either get lost in endless exposition or endless action sequences, but this book balances them very well.

Now for the not-so-good.

I picked up the first book expecting dragons. The title is "Nice Dragons Finish Last," after all, and while it's very clear from the description that the main character, Julius, is "sealed," I had hoped that there would be at least some mythological creature action. This is kept to an absolute minimum, though, in favor of dragons in their human shape. It's even a rather contrived "rule" in Detroit that dragons aren't allowed to be there. This trope has become outright cliche... I've been reading books for years and this was a common theme way back in the days of Dragonlance--take an incredibly powerful being and shove them into human shape, but add a coolness factor by calling them a dragon. (I wrote this part after the first book: there's much more ACTUAL dragon action in books 2 and 3. I still wish there was more.)

But they aren't really dragons. They think like humans, they act like humans, they seem to have the same emotions as humans... Except for another fantasy trope, which is taking every member of a species and shoving them into a single alignment (lawful evil in this case). Julius is the one exception, so it's a very Drizzt Do'urden situation and it's always been odd to me that every member of a species could be evil/good just because of what they are. (this is especially a problem with goblins and rampant antisemitism, but that's another discussion entirely.)

It's a problem that allows justified racism. If the entirety of one species is mean, it's really easy to make everyone hate them, and you lose the nuance of what real racism is. I would suggest that people not write about racism unless they've either experienced it or they've consulted with members of their community who have been the target of it. This becomes more of a problem in the second and third books when Julius is trying to prove that Not All Dragons Are Bad. And it becomes clear that both humans and spirits are very racist against dragons, but it completely lacks the reality of what racism really is. As one poster on tumblr said, "racism isn't just one species being mean to another."

Essentially, it puts all dragons on an uphill battle against everyone else, fails to become a proper allegory, and discards depth and warmth.

A small problem that I should mention is that sometimes plot points sort of fade? There was a situation where Julius' mom visits and he was very mean to Marci, and she was very upset about that, but it's never actually addressed. It sort of fizzles and ends and then everything moves on. It should have at least been mentioned and tied up.

Another problem is repetitiveness or filler text. When I'm going through beta reading for my books, I ask my readers to tell me ANY TIME they skim over text. When your readers are skimming, what you've written isn't interesting, and it has to be changed. I found myself doing this a lot in this book. I forced myself to read back and see what I've skimmed over, and it was usually information I'd already read being presented in a slightly different way. My advice would be to allow the readers to infer information without explaining it into the ground. One thing I would avoid is the discussion of plans before executing said plans--even if they ultimately go wrong. It's enough to say that your protagonist HAS a plan, then let the text speak for itself. These planning phases were what I tended to skip the most.

I can supply one sample of repetitiveness without spoiling the story too badly: One of the main characters is talking with a dragon character about a plan at the beginning-ish of book 3. And breaking the text down to its basics, it goes like this:

Amelia: You have to. Marci: I don't know... Amelia: But you have to. Marci: I don't know... Amelia: You really should do this. Marci: I don't know... Amelia: It's a good idea. Marci: Okay I'll do it. Amelia: Are you sure? Marci: Yes I'll do it. Amelia: Are you sure???

And the argument became VERY spread out over the whole chapter, interspersed with the same explanation of why Marci Should Do The thing, most of which I ended up skimming to the part where Marci ultimately accepted Amelia's idea.

Another chapter I skipped was in book 3 where two human characters had lunch with Marci. And as soon as it became clear they were discussing stuff Marci basically already knew, I just skipped the whole chapter. It was an unnecessary bit of writing that could have been summarized in one or two paragraphs instead. I went back and actually read it later. I didn't miss anything.

(my examples are from the third book because I just finished it and it's the freshest in my mind, but this is an issue in the first two books as well.)

I think there's a certain amount of realism in conversations like this. The problem is that your readers have already figured out where something is going, and they want to get there. If the author reads this, my suggestion would be this: Sometimes it's okay to cut events out when they're uninteresting. If you hate writing it, and your beta readers hate reading it, it can go. I wouldn't follow the advice that you should cut out EVERYTHING irrelevant to the plot, because sometimes it's fun to have fun, but the extra boring tedium can be safely summarized.

Next, Marci.

I first want to state here that my PREFERENCE is writing female characters. Most of my characters are women. And I understand there are a lot of readers who outright dislike all female characters, but I'm not one of them. I feel like that's an important thing to state before going into more detail about my issues with Marci.

I wanted to read more of the series before posting this review, because I felt Marci was a shallow character after book one. She felt like a female character who was STRONG, but NOT a strong female character.

And through the first book, she felt like a prop to the other main character, Julius, instead of a character all her own. (And to be fair, her ENTIRE story from the first book is sort of... hand-waved in books 2 and 3.)

In the first book, Marci isn't really written with a story arc. She's a sort of deus ex machina for Julius; she appears into his life mysteriously as he's looking for a mage, first of all. And while it SEEMS that she does have her own arc, it becomes clear by the end of the story that she's only a catalyst for the dragons' stories. The thing she's protecting eventually ends up in the hands of the dragons; she's essentially just a walking suitcase for them. She's a roadblock for the villains. And there's not even a true explanation of Why She Has The Thing They Want except that it's really cool and she wants it.

This alone may have prevented me from reading the rest of the series, but I'm VERY glad I did--While Marci has a slow start, her story does pick up in the second and third books and she becomes much more likeable. She still feels like a prop at times (other characters refer to her as a "weapon" even) but within that description, she's fighting her own battles and has become much less shallow.

I do wish she had more agency. I wish her decisions truly felt like hers, instead of the manipulations/machinations of those with higher power. But she's not the worst-written female character I've ever read, and the author makes it clear in the second and third books that she knows how to write good female characters (cough chelsie cough) so I can forgive Marci's shortcomings.

There's one Bad thing that I want to address, too, which mostly came up at the end of book 2 and throughout book 3. And this is a fairly major spoiler, I'm sorry.

You don't give a tyrannical dictator power after you defeat her. You just don't. Julius could have banished his mother if he refused to kill her. He could have let someone else kill her. He could have done any number of things. But the first thing he does is give her a seat on the new council and is just like "yes you still get to make decisions." And as you can imagine, this goes very wrong.

And book 3 is FULL of Julius refusing to let his brothers and sisters kill anyone, even when it's justified. This has always been a trope that rankled... You can't write about a coup and then have nobody die. It suggests that genocidal dictators Can Change If You Give Them The Right Opportunities, and we all know from real life that that doesn't happen. Tyrannical people in power will fight to keep that power. They don't learn. And props to the author for showing that these people don't learn, but... seriously, you don't keep people around who actively want to kill you.

I was so annoyed with Julius by the end of book 3, and the hoops the writing had to jump through to show his decision was good and right. He felt naive and almost stupid. And (VERY major spoiler here, just stop reading if you don't want the end of book 3 spoiled!)

...

Julius' mother had enslaved his sister for hundreds of years. When the sister was released, she immediately tried to kill her mother.

This would have justified ALL of Julius' actions up until that point if he'd just LET HER. Bethesda hurt Chelsie the most out of ANY Of her children. It would have been a PERFECT way to allow Chelsie to get her well-deserved revenge AND end the problem of Bethesda (who REALLY deserves to die.) And Julius made her stop, because That's Not How We're Doing Things Anymore.

I don't like that Bethesda is effectively not paying for the thousands of atrocities she committed over the last thousand years because the main character is a pacifist. It just doesn't sit right. And IDK if the author is building to Bethesda's death in the last couple books or not, but letting Chelsie kill her would have been the PERFECT end, and I'm really disappointed. No end for Bethesda would have been better than that.

Anyway.

As I said at the beginning of this review, I still recommend reading the series. It's a really interesting urban fantasy-type book, and while it crosses into YA territory, the fantasy aspect is interesting enough to keep me reading.

#book review #heartstrikers series #nice dragons finish last #fantasy #young adult fiction #not bestiary

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storyranger · 4 years

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So I borrowed The Berenstain Bears Chapter Book Collection on Overdrive for some light nostalgia reading in our new hammock. All was well, the usual mix of saccharine slice-of-life interspersed with Very Important Issues one expects from the made-for-middle-schoolers chapter book versions of a beloved picture book franchise. And then. AND THEN.

Then I reached the absolute insanity that is The Berenstain Bears: Lost In Cyberspace. As Strange Aeons would say, “buckle up, my homosexuals!” Please, suffer with me.

Brother Bear’s classmate Bonnie Brown got a laptop from her rich uncle, and it helped her get even better grades! So her uncle had the bright idea to buy every student at her school a laptop to use for homework! Luckily Teacher Bob convinces him to try a test group first, so just his class gets them for now. Everyone in Brother’s class loves their new playground, The Internet! But the internet isn’t always a safe place. Babs Bruno starts hanging out in a Young Poets chatroom, and things are about to become dangerous!

Me: Is someone going to say something mean about her bland haikus?

Meanwhile, Queenie’s harlot teenage cousin, Bermuda, convinces her to sign up for online dating so she can meet hot older guys. Bermuda tarts her up and takes her to Pizza shack to meet a mystery man, but, surprise!–

Me: Please don’t be a pedophile please doesn’t be a pedophile oh god it’s going to be a pedophile

- the mystery stranger is actually her on-again, off-again boyfriend, Too-Tall! He was dared to sign up for the dating sign by his gang members. What a hilarious turn of events!

Me: I have never been happier about a super cliché plot twist.

Now remember kids, this could have ended a lot differently if Queenie’s internet date hadn’t turned out to be her preteen boyfriend who she already knew. But back to Babs Bruno, who has finally created an account in the Young Poets chatroom, and things are about to get even more dangerous.

Me: it’s a poetry chatroom for babies, cringy, maybe, but dangerous? You see, Babs discovers that the poems from two users, “Huff” and “Puff”, are actually a series of coded messages about their plot to BOMB BONNIE BROWN’S UNCLE’S HOUSE UNLESS HE PAYS THEM MILLIONS OF DOLLARS. Me: .

Me: ..

Me: ...

Me: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?

(Luckily Babs’s dad is the chief of police so everybody lives. Also the experiment showed that only the smart kids got smarter with the laptops, the dumb kids just used them to procrastinate and look up sports statistics, so Bonnie’s uncle returned them all and donated the money to the school’s computer lab.)

#the berenstain bears #lost in cyberspace #chapter books #book summary #storyranger rants #a rant review #tw: caps #cw: capslock

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crackinglamb · 4 years

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7,15, 18, 28, 37 for fic writer questions! Thank you!

@natsora out here makin’ me think this early in the day....

Thank you, though, truly. I love doing these. I’m going to put this under a cut, because it came out really long.

7: Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

From Junkyard Dogs:

“Hancock?” she asked after a while.

“Hmm?”

“How am I going to do this?” He was silent for a moment as he framed his thoughts, enjoying the silk of her hair running through his fingers, clinging to him with static. She was relaxed, almost boneless, as the heat of the water worked a magic on her tense muscles no amount of chems could do.

“You’ll do what you gotta. You and me, we’re like junkyard dogs. We find a scrap of something and call it ours. We defend it, fight off anything that comes our way and take no prisoners. We fight with anything that comes to hand, even our teeth and nails. Everything becomes a tool in our hands. The Institute will be no different.”

Obviously, this is from whence the fic gets its title. This was my very first published piece of fanfiction. The lines Hancock says describe the entire tone of the story in just a few words. Sometimes I surprise myself with that sort of thing. This is also my most popular and ‘successful’ work, although Flash In the Pan is catching up. I’m proud of it still, even though I don’t write for the Fallout 4 fandom anymore, simply because it was first, it was proof I could still write (it had been a long time), and that people liked what I created. Personal and public validation in one.

15: If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

...I have no idea. I just sat here for a solid five minutes thinking about it and not a one came to mind that couldn’t already be done with the right mods and editing software, since all of my work comes from video games.

Not to mention, considering my penchant for writing explicit content, the rating on that would be...prohibitive.

18: Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

Not especially. I’ll make notes for myself at the end of a document to keep myself on track or jot down ideas to be fleshed out later. That’s about as far as I go with outlining.

28: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

(For all my other lovelies out there, please don’t feel snubbed. I love you all, but this ask is just for 3 faves, so I will go with the ones that I read over and over.)

words-writ-in-starlight, because OMFG the levels of emotional intensity make me feel incredible, indescribable things.

MizDirected, because the sheer intricacy of the butterfly effect combined with the truly stellar psychological horrors therein is what inspired me to write my very own canon divergent ME fic. I cannot compare to that, nor do I try to, but I enjoy every moment of reading their epic Future Imperfect. The volume alone was at first intimidating, but then I literally couldn’t walk away, couldn’t stop, even when my heart was breaking and I was ugly crying at my computer at 3 in the morning. I have read all 988K words four times. In a year.

And finally, Azellma. I will read anything by this author, anything. I have devoured each and every one of their works, regardless of fandom. Again, levels of talent and thought that I simply don’t have in me, but that’s okay. Cuz I can enjoy theirs and get lost in the word sauce happily. Seeing an update email fills me with squee.

37: Talk about your current wips.

This is a list, you realize. I have like...five. No, I don’t have a life, why do you ask?

Racing Down the Barrel: a sequel and part two of my series Soldier, Spectre, Savior. Mass Effect trilogy retelling with canon divergence, namely that Garrus and Shepard were already a couple before the events of ME1. Headcannons galore, thought out reasoning behind paragon choices, true love.

Maker Damned Fools - Fluffy Version: my first attempt to write Dragon Age. Again with some divergence because canon does not spark joy. Varric/Female Hawke pairing. I will go down with that ship. Part of the Fluff-uary 2020 series, a prompt challenge that I am co-creator of with @ir0n-angel. The basic premise of this will eventually be expanded into a longfic.

Cross-Species Liaisons: the other part of the Fluff-uary 2020 series, this being all Mass Effect. Shakarian and Shryik. Post canon ficlets for Jayne and Garrus, interspersed ficlets for Henna and Nihlus, with some Henna and Garrus thrown in soon.

Accidental Synchronicity: the aforementioned headcannons? Yeah, one of those became this. Jack/Thane. Short, not so sweet although it has its moments, almost finished. One of two works of mine that actually needs the archive warning ‘Major Character Death’, which I usually don’t write and don’t tend to read, honestly. But you can’t save them all, and it’s already established in my timeline that Thane will remain true to his canon arc. Uh...spoilers.

Some Kind of Resolution: a Nihlus fix-it. Turned poly on me, which shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone who knows me. Don’t make me choose between turians; I have an alternate solution. It was initially only going to be the first game. Then of course Garrus popped up his head and said ‘what about me?’ And...yeah... now it will span the entirety of the trilogy. Gonna be long, this one is, I foresee it being a second fic of mine that breaks 100K words. Currently on hiatus while I work on Fluff-uary stuff, since it’s the only WIP without a backlog of already completed chapters.

#I spent like two hours on this #time well spent

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rosecorcoranwrites · 5 years

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Comics as Visual, Spatial Storytelling

Comics are worth your while, and are a unique form of storytelling. We've already discussed books as verbal storytelling and movies as audiovisual temporal storytelling, so what of comics? Comics—which includes comic books, graphic novels, webcomics, manga, and even comic strips—employ semi-verbal, visual, and spatial storytelling.

A Way with Words

Like movies and plays, comics don't rely on words to tell their story. In fact, there are graphic novels out there that use no language at all. They are still semi-verbal, however, because the vast majority of them include words in the form of dialogue—usually in white balloons—narration, sound effects, and other uses of text.

One of the coolest comics I have ever read was the final entry as part of a tournament on Deviant Art (back in the day, different artists would create characters who would compete against those of other artists in comic entries drawn by each contestant). The artist's characters were fighting against the villain of the piece—another artist's character, who had taken on that role—who was a violin-playing robot. Interspersed with drawn action were stanzas of a poem about Nero fiddling while Rome burned. The text was used to enhance the drawings, and gave the entire scene—which included no dialogue—an eerie, tense feeling, similar to what one might feel if a particular song played over an otherwise silent action scene.

Panels and Space

Aside from words, comics of course rely on visuals in the form of drawings or paintings, usually contained in boxes—called panels—so that a number of pictures, like shots in a film, cover a single page. These panels are what truly make comics unique, in that they are not only visual but spatial, too. Like a movie creator, artists must decide what's in any given panel and where the characters are standing in a scene, but while movie makers use time to pace their stories, artists use space.

For example, the artist might slow a scene down by drawing one panel of a character's hand hung limp at their side, then repeat that panel again, but this time with the fist clenched in resolve. Artists can also use page breaks to build tension, perhaps having the last panel on the page be a reaction shot and leaving whatever horror the character is seeing for the next page.

The size and position of panels is key to spatial storytelling. Important moments get larger panels, or even a two-page spread. Skinnier or smaller panels are used for supporting details and ongoing action. Sometimes, an artist draws a character outside of, over, or above multiple panels to either link what's in the panels or emphasize the character's action. Additionally, certain types of comics have a uniform layout, such as four-panel gag manga, which are similar to American comic strips, which have a setup of four panels in a column, the last being the punchline.

While the edges of most panels are basic perpendicular or slightly tilted lines, some artists play with this. Heavily tilted panels might symbolize a character going crazy, while black backgrounds behind the panels are often used for flashbacks or interior monologues. Many manga will spend a page or two having characters thinking, with their words floating in space and minimal pictures as a backdrop.

I've seen creativity in webcomics too. Though some webcomic artists stick to the tried and true four-panel set-up or normal page sizes, the internet allows people to go beyond these limits. Many artists use long vertical pages to tell their stories, while others play around even more. Ashley Cope, the author/artist of Unsounded, will occasionally add animations to her comic or will have pictures flowing off the standard book-sized page. In one chapter, a character falls into another dimension. In this case, the reader, instead of "turning the page" by hitting the right arrow key, must scroll down and down to see a sequence of drawings of the character falling. The next several pages are totally black except for the character looking around—even the usual background of the website is gone—and the URLs, typically ending in something like "ch04/p26.html" were replaced with "what.html", "huh.html", and "where_am_I.html". It was so inventive, driving home the fact that everything we had read so far was going to be totally different now; we were in a new place with new rules.

Humans and Art

Now, I could talk about how comics are the modern version of an ancient art form, relating them to the paintings we see on the walls of Egyptian tombs, Asian woodblock prints adorned with captions, Christian triptychs which tell stories of biblical figures and saints, and the very, very, very long comic known as the Bayeux Tapestry, but I think you get the idea. Humans are verbal, emotional, and we love visual imagery. Comics have employed some new standards—white balloons for talking, onomatopoeia sound effects, specific symbols to signify certain movements or emotions (especially in manga)—but overall, they're just the newest version of humans using art to tell stories.

If you still pooh-pooh comics as somehow inferior to books or movies, do yourself a favor and read the following: Rosalie Lightning: A GraphicMemoir by Tom Hart and Erased by Kei Sanbe. These are by no means the only great comics out there, but they are shorter than a lot and are prime examples of what a comic can be. Rosalie Lightning, in particular, is a crash course in non-linear, cyclical narrative and the use of recurring imagery. Erased is, well... Erased is one of the four perfect stories in existence. It, too, makes amazing use of motifs and symbolism, many of which make call backs in the final chapters. It also has a mind-blowing premise (a cat-and-mouse time travel story), excellent characters, and heart.

Anyway, that is why comics are unique and worthwhile, and these, dear readers—and comic fans—are my thoughts on comics.

#comics #comicbooks #comic books #graphic novel #graphic novels #webcomics #webcomic #comics as a medium #spatial storytelling #visual storytelling #comics as media #manga #manha #comic lover #comicbook #comic book #thoughts on comics #why you should read comics

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sp4c3-0ddity · 6 years

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Plance fic recomendations? You're one of my fav fic writers and i trust your opinion, I've read plenty of plance fics but not so much recently, so do you know any recent ones?

i feel like i’ve achieved some milestone by being asked for recs. also you flatter me!! and more recent, you say?? let me see what i can do:

So i do have a tag of fic i’ve reblogged here. It’s not technically a fic rec tag; it’s just fic that i very much enjoyed when i read it or that i wanted to save for later

And here is my bookmarks list on ao3, but also a proper list (in no particular order) that hopefully features fic you haven’t read and doesn’t neglect any fic that i’ve forgotten ;_;:

Wrong Diamond by Rueitae | @rueitae - i may be totally biased because this fic was gifted to me but it’s a gentleman thief AU and a really fun fic

Entanglement by bushybeardedbear | @bushybeardedbear - okay first i confess that i haven’t finished this fic yet but it is a wild ride with an entertaining concept where Pidge’s and Lance’s brains get a little...tangled up (also i still laugh thinking about Pidge learning that in a different reality a male version of herself is married to a female version of Lance)

River in Constantinople by TopShelfOfficial | @funtryandthepaladudes - Pidge does something impulsive right after saving Lance’s life and it bites them both in the butt...temporarily, at least. I liked Lance’s voice in this one especially!!

The Cost of Winning by IcyPanther - actually platonic plance and with rather graphic violence BUT it’s really good, has an action plot and angst, and there are some hugs (which is what we’re all here for right??)

Not for One Day by cgf-kat | @cgf-kat - warning for kinda major character death but it’s got that perfect dose of fluff in the midst of the angst as well as ~timey-wimey~ stuff

All of Us also by cgf-kat - Pidge, for once, is the idiot. everyone, including you and especially Shiro, will suffer

Skirting Katabasis by hailqiqi | @hailqiqi - okay to be honest everything by Hail is great, but this one has canon-verse plance featuring the messiness of crushes and the Pidge & Keith friendship we deserve. also i’m biased towards this one because i’m the beta reader

Spring Day by mistyhollowdrummer | @mistyhollowpro - no fic gets me excited for a new chapter like this one does. features the oddly underutilized (at least in the plance fandom) trope where a girl disguises herself as a boy and there’s mutual crushing between her and a boy student. and other plot stuff too of course!!

Tu Eres Mi Corazon by 13Vivacious13 | @vivalachocolate - Lance uses Spanish terms of endearment on Pidge, and she doesn’t notice because she doesn’t speak Spanish - or that’s the Concept, because it’s so much more than that, with the perfect notes of sweetness and angst in canon-verse fic form

A Month of Truth by HunterWizard - it’s just raucous truth spell fun interspersed with retrospective narration. and the story culminates in a Big Damn Kiss which is like my favorite romantic trope ever

Alternity by kamanzi | @mkandas - you know that one fic trope where there’s the main pairing’s “child from the future”?? it’s like that but better with all the right angsty cues dammit Lance i trusted you

your hair was long when we first met by amillionsmiles | @amillionsmiles - baggage and second chances and ‘soft’ angst and lots of pining oh my

quantum mechanics, smirks, and other complications of the universe by amillionsmiles - you know what just read all of Katie’s fics you will not regret it though this one is my favorite of hers shh

Focus/Happiness by happyisahabit - tbh it’s been a while since i read this fic but i remember enjoying it a lot and it’s really angsty is one of the rare examples of me liking a fic with the main ship in an established relationship

String Theory by ghostvinyls | @ghostvinyls - you know what?? just read all of Amanda’s fic if you haven’t already. but this one is special because not only did she recently complete it but also because it’s the sort of story that will make you laugh, cry, and question your path in life

#plance #pidgance #lidge #flirtyrobot #i feel like i'm forgetting some i immensely enjoyed though too....#and i'm too lazy to go too deep into my history on ao3 #so my bookmarks as well as a few more recent ones i've read #shall suffice for now #if you want more though feel free to ask again :)#voltron #reem reads fic #qna #Anonymous

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a-big-apple · 7 years

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TAZ Fic Recs

I’m bad at keeping bookmarks or remembering titles or remembering authors’ names, so I’m keeping my TAZ recs in a post instead! There are TONS of great fics in this fandom, and here’s a surely incomplete list of some that brought me particular joy.

Newest additions to the list are at the top, last updated February 2020.

Hey hey, marry me Barry by @qpenguin98 - rated Teen and Up

If you want to just be emotionally shattered by romance in really lovely and positive ways, please read this fic. This might be my favorite Blupjeans story I’ve ever read. It’s beautiful, it’s skillfully and subtly written, it has great emotional payoff, and I cried a LOT. I don’t want to give too much description of the plot because it was really impactful going in blind, but it’s all about Barry and the rest of Lup’s family ganging up to make her (and themselves) really happy, and it’s beautiful.

because that’s what love is (equivalent exchange) by teacuptaako - rated Teen and Up

This fic broke me a little. It’s Barry’s POV on the Starblaster, getting to know everyone, falling in love with Lup, and trying to figure out Taako. This is a FAB outside perspective on Taako’s weird outer layers of personality. Plus Barry is just such a good dude, it’s impossible to not love this trip inside his head!

Dumb Interspecies Relations series by nah_tho - rated Explicit

If you’re into Taako and Brad Bradson, well, you’ve probably already read this series? But if you haven’t, DO. What starts out as a fun sexy romp gets plotty and full of worldbuilding, Taako is a fantastic mess, and Brad is trying real hard. This series is hilarious, hot, sometimes suspenseful, and the final story made me cry.

got a license to kill (and you know I’m going straight for your heart) by @hoothootmotherf-ckers - rated Teen and Up

THIS FIC WAS MY GIFT IN THE 2019 TAZ CANDLENIGHTS GIFT EXCHANGE, I STILL CANNOT BELIEVE IT. It’s so wonderful!! A multi-chapter assassin AU with some coffee shop and fake relationship in there too, unbelievable. Lup is a badass. Barry is adorable. They love each other, and also get shot at, and also fight Big Pharma. Please go read it, srsly.

After the War by theauthoress - Not Rated

This fic took a twist I haven’t seen before, and I loved it! Dredging up some good angst from Taako’s past and then from Kravitz’s, it delivers a punch and then soothes you again with some good sibling stuff. I don’t want to say more and give away the surprise, but if you like some Taakitz hurt/comfort, do check this one out.

Apogee by @charmandhex - rated Teen and Up

I admit, I am one of those who think Taako won’t ever forgive Lucretia, but that they can be civil again, and maybe even friends. This fic captures that so beautifully, how much history there is between them that neither of them can escape. It’s lovely, and Taako is baller, and I read it twice in a row.

you know, elf practice series by @anonymousalchemist - rated from General to Teen and Up

Yet another one that I can’t believe I didn’t already have on this list. I know the elf practice thing as a meme has mostly vanished into the tumblr ether, but these two fics are on my mind always. They’re just so unusual, and the kind of creepy that’s treated as matter-of-fact (which is the best kind of creepy). What if elves had to, you know, practice? To become elves? Just thinking about it gives me a shiver, I love this fairycore take on Taako and Lup and their upbringing.

the kid, the future forthcoming by @anonymousalchemist - rated Teen and Up

Seriously, how did I not have this on my list already, I reread it all the time! It’s so incredibly hard to make second person work, and this fic really works. It’s a short and compelling vignette of young Taako’s life, and young Taako-and-Lup’s life, and the difficulties of a scrappy teenhood. It’s a little heartbreaking, and full of perfect moments that I think about a lot. Also, tiny Barry cameo that gives me so many feels! Also also, just...the mood of it is so good, the inside-of-Taako’s-head feeling, wonderful.

Taking the dogs home by Anonymous - rated Mature

What an extremely quiet and beautiful story! Set after Story and Song, at Magnus’ house in an almost dreamlike country woods setting. Taako shows up out of the blue, perhaps escaping a problem he won’t discuss, and falls back into Magnus’ small town routine. There’s a lot of subtly layered domesticity and realistic, compelling Taagnus feeling. Also, a dog!

Heads/Tails by unprofessionalbard - rated Teen and Up

Short and powerful! I loved this fic. A really well-characterized look at Taako and Kravitz, and how their jobs and their personal lives intersect and interfere with each other. I don’t want to give anything away because it unfolds really precisely, I think, so--just go read it! It’s awesome.

and at a certain age the child is grown by bimaukery - rated Teen and Up

This is a really beautiful, bittersweet modern AU. The IPRE family move into Angus’ grandpa’s house, while Angus is still there, and he can’t understand why. He watches them, tries in small ways to interact with them--as they try to figure out what to do about the little ghost haunting their new house. Honestly, go read this and cry over it for a while, it’s lovely.

The Shrike and the Thorn by JoyfullyyoursDav ( @keplercryptids ) - rated Teen and Up

If you haven’t had enough of crying about Taako and Lup, here’s a great fic for you. That Good Sibling Shit, flashbacks, memory loss, beautiful conversations, just...everything I could want in a lovely little package. Also, PLEASE check out this author’s other stories, so many great ones!

(when i think about you) flowers grow out of my grave by @phantomsteed - rated Teen and Up

This Taakitz fic is one of my fav kinds of modern AU: Taako works in a flower shop, Krav is a mortician, they meet cute and fall in love! The ensemble are all there in the background, including a very adorable Angus and a soon-to-be-married Carey and Killian, but what really got me about this is the gentle and steady way our favorite boys fall in love. There are also SUPER lovely illustrations by @karinhart sprinkled throughout!

a fool for lesser things by himemiyaa - rated Teen and Up

This fic charmed the PANTS off me, and made me teary to boot. Taako and Kravitz are new roommates in this community college AU (and, surprise, they end up together). I love the way Taako slowly opens up in this story, to Kravitz, to the community of friends Lup has built that he’s been keeping himself outside of, and especially to Garyl the cat. It feels so real, and like a reminder to myself to be more vulnerable in my own life! Please go read this, it will lift your spirits.

Among the Ruins by @distractedkat - rated Teen and Up

I don’t know how I went so long without finding this fic, and then for a little while I resisted because I wasn’t sure about the description. Finally over the weekend I read the whole thing in a sitting, and I’m SO glad I did. It’s fantastic!! This AU reimagines the canon if Taako’s time post-Sizzle It Up had gone differently. What follows from that is an engrossing and plausible version of events with lots of action, lots of funny lines, lots of feelings, and lots more Lup! There’s a little angst, a lot of twins and Taakitz goodness, and a wonderfully happy ending. If you’re looking for something nice and long to dive into, definitely try this one.

Angus McDonald and the Flight of the Flying V by @mystery-moose - rated Teen and Up

This was one of the first fics I read in this fandom, before I thought to keep track of things I liked or bookmark them to find them again. Then it turned up in @marywhal‘s rec list, and I was overjoyed to find it again! As the rest of this list will show, I have a special weakness for stories about Taako as Angus’ guardian, and this one really shaped my headcanons about their relationship. In the main portion of the story, a grown-up Angus with his own detective agency is working a case--with a bored and lonely Taako’s help. Interspersed with the mystery are flashbacks to their time on the road as Sizzle it Up with Taako and Company, achingly soft glimpses of Angus’ post-finale childhood as Taako and Kravitz’s sort-of-son. I think it was finished before the actual finale aired, so it isn’t entirely canon-compliant, but it captures the same tone beautifully.

i will buy the flower shop by @weatheredlaw - rated Teen and Up

I saved this fic for an emotionally rainy day, because I had a feeling it would brighten things up. It absolutely did! A modern restaurant AU with all the necessary found family feelings, and all of our favorite characters with lives that aren’t perfect but that get better with communication and vulnerability and persistent joy. If you’re looking for something poignant and satisfying, something to lighten a bad day, this fic is an excellent choice.

Taako and Hurley’s Maximum Fun Drive by detectivelion - rated Teen and Up

WHAT A ROMP! If you’re longing to get back to the high speed action of battlewagon racing, this is the fic to read. Set after the Day of Story and Song, the whole crew (Hurley and Sloane included, of course) face off in a madcap race that really recaptured the spirit of Petals to the Metal for me.

Bureau of Badass ( @bureauofbadass ) by @chemicallywrit and @miceenscene - rated Teen and Up

This fic almost feels too obvious to rec, and yet I can’t not. SUCH AN ENGROSSING READ! Take all your favorite characters, stick them in the 90′s, give them attitude and relatable problems, and put them on skates--then you’ve got this roller derby AU. I don’t even know what else to say about it, because if that doesn’t make you want to read it, nothing will. As of this writing it’s a WIP, but there are over 100 chapters extant to read and only a few more yet to come!

and the warmth will never die by Junkyard_Rose - rated Teen and Up

This is an extraordinary fic. It’s a modern setting AU in which Taako and Lup were separated as kids and have made lives for themselves while searching for each other, which is wonderful all by itself. What stands out about this one, though, is the non-chronological way it’s told. Every chapter gives little glimpses into the pasts and presents of both twins, sometimes the same events from different angles, revealing a tiny bit of new information each time. I never found it confusing, just extremely interesting and vibrant, and SO emotionally satisfying in the last few chapters! The prose is beautiful too, sometimes I read it aloud to myself!

songs for revelations by @weatheredlaw - rated Mature

So many of weatheredlaw’s fics wreck me in a variety of ways, but this one is maybe my favorite. It only has two chapters so far, but it’s SO EVOCATIVE and unusual and sometimes I just sit and think about it and wonder what will happen next. It’s the soft-apocalypse-adjacent AU I didn’t know I needed. Or, if you want to get fucked up by something finished, try their series all the way across the universe!

Bury the Lead by @marywhal - rated Teen and Up

Such a brilliant story! High school AUs are hard to do well, I think, and this is one of the best. It’s an ensemble story but from Taako’s POV, filled with extremely relatable versions of all the characters we know and love. There’s newspaper nerdery, wicked cool language stuff, and a million great moments that made me laugh, or cry, or both. Even if you don’t like AUs, I urge you to try this one!

Patterns of Migration by goodnicepeople - rated Teen and Up

Let me preface this by saying that I really want to put EVERYTHING by this author on my list. Their stories are all incredible, soft and beautiful and painful in good ways. It was hard to choose a favorite to list here, but this one is really special and elegantly crafted. It follows Angus and Magnus as child and parent, a progression over time as Angus grows up and Magnus slows down. In later chapters the addition of Taako to the dynamic produces some really lovely scenes, and also some very sad scenes--I cried a TON reading it.

Angus McDonald and the Case of the Mysterious Butter Wyvern by yassan - rated General Audiences

This is one of the funniest fics I’ve read in this fandom so far, and one of the closest in tone to the actual show. THB plus Angus is a great equation no matter what they’re doing, but when they’re shopping for a birthday present for the Director it takes on a whole new level of crazy.

what can the harvest hope for by lagaudiere - rated Teen and Up

I think this is the first story on this list from Kravitz’s POV, and it’s GREAT. Full of great Reaper Squad interactions and marvelous Taakitz scenes, alternating with a really interesting, sometimes a little creepy, examination of John Hunger in the Eternal Stockade. If you’re into gray-area redemption stories and Kravitz being wonderful, then this is for you.

Oh have you seen my ghost? by greenglowsgold - rated Mature

Let me say first: if abuse or assault with intent to rape are triggering for you, you’ll probably want to give this one a pass. If that’s not an issue, then this is an excellently written and heart-hurting story about Taako’s past with Sazed, as seen through an unexpected and dangerous encounter. It’s beautifully subtle, and the last few lines legit broke my heart.

Reverie - by ltdominic - rated Teen and Up

Update: Reverie is finished! And it’s so beautiful, everything the first chapter hinted it would be. It’s one of my favorite themes, fucked-up Taako recovering from losing memories and getting them back. It’s painful and lovely, featuring a family who can see that something is wrong but can’t quite fix it, intermingled with backstory flashbacks. This story really captures the day to day struggle; there’s a crisis, and improvement, but there’s no perfectly happy ending.

“Cute, but still fucked up.” - by writersstareoutwindows - rated General Audiences

If you’re looking for a short and sweet pick-me-up in your day, this is it! The author drops you into a pitch-perfect and adorable scene between Taako, Lup, and Angus. They’ve captured a teasing-but-loving dynamic between the three that made me grin like a lunatic.

Taste Test (They Were Delicious) - by @marywhal - rated Teen and Up

Another moving and wonderful Taako-centric fic, made up of a series of vignettes set from the Starblaster years onward. Each section features a different meal (with a recipe, which is exciting), and a beautifully-written glimpse into Taako’s relationships. Lup features heavily, as one might guess, but the real through line is Lucretia, who poignantly bookends the story.

it takes a village - series by neverwinter ( @nxymxrjr ) - ratings range from General to Mature

This series is a modern AU full of extremely beautiful and moving found family interactions, told mostly from Angus’ point of view, and heavily featuring Taako as his legal guardian. You will notice if you read through this rec list that Taako and Angus as flawed-father-figure-and-son is MY FAVORITE THING, and this author does it so, so well. There’s some good parenting, some good sibling stuff with Taako and Lup, lovely Taakitz romance, and frequent cameos by the rest of the TAZ family. None of the stories in the series are explicit so far, but mind the tags for things like mental health issues, past abuse, and blood. Also, DEFINITELY check out their other TAZ stories!

with a pace and fury defiant - by redqueentheory - rated Mature

This author explores Taako’s inner life post-finale and the darker emotions that could follow that glorious happy ending. When he locates Kalen, he and Merle plan a road/camping trip with Magnus as cover and set off to avenge Julia. It’s beautifully written, sometimes painfully emotive (in a good way), and describes so much of what I headcanon about Taako’s feelings and how he deals with them that it’s like the author was reading my mind. It’s WONDERFUL (but check the tags, there is some violence). Do check out their other work as well, especially if you are into Bradko!

running into the sun (but i’m running behind) - by @quillyfied - rated General Audiences

Set between Crystal Kingdom and 11th Hour, this is a fantastic THB bonding fic! The bubble cannon breaks and strands the boys in the middle of the Faerun countryside, forcing them into a road trip that alternates wonderfully between sweet moments, drama from the past coming back to bite them, and very funny goofs. Their voices feel really in character to me, and the tone of this story is light enough that it could be a bonus episode of the show. I absolutely loved it, and I reread it all the time! Also, if you are a Davenchurch fan, definitely read i have loved the stars too fondly.

Wizard of Fortune - series by @fiercebadrabbit - rated General Audiences

This author has resisted the temptation to make Taako a Reaper when he dies--instead, he becomes a servant of Istus, creating a unique, beautiful, fascinating version of the far future in the Balance universe. I LOVE IT, so so much. Taako’s unusual personality shines through in all of his interactions, viewed through the eyes of the strangers who benefit from the hand of Fate. The writing has a lovely, mystical feel, which is a style I adore! This author has also written some very charming Taakitz, so check that out as well.

UPDATE: When fiercebadrabbit asked for ficlet requests, I excitedly asked for more Taako as a servant of Istus--and got THIS WONDERFUL GEM in reply! Go read it for excellent sibling sass!

through the days you will dream of losing me and losing you - by @androidsfighting - rated Teen and Up

I love stories about memory, and this one BREAKS ME every time I read it. An exceptionally written look at Taako after the finale and how he recovers (or doesn’t) from the effects of the Voidfish. There’s some really excellent Taako and Lup scenes, some great Barry, some great Lucretia, and lots of very visceral prose about remembering and forgetting and the confusion in between. It’s fairly short, but packs a powerful punch. I feel like this is both the fic I’ve wanted since hearing the finale and also the fic I’ve been trying to write since finishing the finale, so it’s both perfect and intimidating!

Luster - by @lsunnyc - rated Mature

This one is a WIP, but nearly done and worth the wait! After the finale, Taako is abducted from the train on a business trip to Goldcliff. The story alternates between Taako’s perspective, imprisoned but viciously determined to escape, and the rest of the TAZ family trying frantically to track him down when they realize he never made it to his destination. It’s SO DAMN GOOD YOU GUYS. Taako is very in character here and his intelligence and power really shine under stress; the worldbuilding of the “prison” where he’s trapped is also precise and fantastic. Every day that this fic has an update is a Good Day for me. Keep an eye on the tags though, there’s some carefully written dubcon.

Our own, soft hearts - series by @wildgoosery - ratings range from Teen to Explicit

If you, like me, longed to hear more of Taako and Kravitz on dates, then this series is your antidote! They’re so in character, and they’re so in love, and their every interaction is so wonderful. This fic really brings me joy, and also is sexy as hell. Also, the most recent installment is a wonderfully drawn fan comic! The author’s other work is also sexy and great, do check it out!

<3 If you’ve made it all the way to the bottom of this list and want even more fic to read, may I humbly suggest mine? Mostly about Taako, light touches of angst, and hopefully prose that approaches the wonderfulness of the stories I’ve recced here.

#fanfiction #fic recs #taz

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pathfindersemail · 7 years

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Canis Aureus, Redux!

Chapter 3: “Keep your friends close...”

Summary: [Reyes Squadmate AU] Reyes Vidal was only seven years old when he watched Alec Ryder kill his father. Years later, Cerberus makes him an offer he can't refuse and the machinations of vengeance begin. Old wounds and a new galaxy - the job was easy enough. If only Sarianna Ryder stayed out of the way...

Click here to start from the beginning.

Reyes spent his last night in the Milky Way reviewing files. With his back hunched over a desk, he took refuge in a small antique lamp with a canvas shade and a narrow neck. Though humble, it offered dim lighting for an otherwise... riveting read. As his eyes pored over the glowing text of the data pad, his mind aimlessly wandered to the other possibilities he shirked. The soft, sprawling arms of a lover, a night full of heady drink, or even money well spent on good takeout (a luxury in Omega). He almost sighed at the thought.

But then, not without a resentfully grateful roll of his eyes, he remembered just how lazy he was. It would prove too taxing to explain why he would leave the soon-to-be ex’s warm bed (and it would be a pain to explain that it was a union of convenience – one to while away evenings up until his departure); it wouldn’t do to go into cryo with a hangover; and, lastly, nothing was stopping him from still ordering takeout. A muted chuckle was all he needed, and soon his fingers dashed across the interface of his omnitool, ordering a greasy helping of good food to pass the night.

Until then, there were files. Alec Ryder’s, to be precise, and the pathfinder team he would have to infiltrate.

Cerberus delivered on otherwise preciously hidden information. Reyes could recall when his contact handed him the drive containing the dossier.

“This should help you on your mission,” he had said. They met at a bar that time. It was impossible to tell if he was the same agent who recruited him years before, or if he was some other nondescript ageless fellow with a penchant for his tobacco. Either way, the soft glow of smokes was all that lit the profile of his face, and even then Reyes could hardly get a good look. An antiquated hat stiffened by the rim and lined with some fabric in the body cast a sizeable shadow over his face. He seemed to lower it and raise it in dramatic points of the conversation, as if to help the poor fledgling double agent learn his cues better.

“This is...” Reyes found himself stammering.

“Something to help you in your mission,” the contact cut in with repeated emphasis. “You won’t be alone.”

He was briefed long ago. An ambiguously large contingent would be coming with him to Andromeda, he knew. Precisely where and how they would stay in contact was apparently too “sensitive” for someone of his ranking. Nevertheless, they were generous with their information, and seeing as how he was about to play wolf in sheep’s clothing, he had to learn a lot quicker than most.

“You know Mr. Vidal,” the agent began as he put his glass to his mouth. “We always had faith in you.”

Reyes remembered focusing on the way the contact’s hand trembled imperceptibly with each raise of his glass. “Who’s we?” he asked. He hadn’t realized the soured frown which overtook his signature cavalier smile until the nameless man before him laughed

“Good question.” He took another drag of his cigarette before nodding to the drive he just handed to the rookie. “That’s something you will have to hold on to once we’re across.”

Again he took note of the subtle placements of the now inclusive pronoun. Reyes tapped light fingers on the oak surface of the bar, counting seconds in his head with metronomic precision.

“Read it carefully,” he said in a deft change of topic. A nod of his head had pointed to the dossier safe in Reyes’s gloved hand. “The metaphor for these missions is usually wolf among sheep,” he raised his head high, looking up to the bluish limelight as he exhaled trail slithers of smoke.

Reyes’s breaths quickened at the mention, alarmed by the too coincidental observation he had made.

“But the fact of the matter is...” the agent paused, letting a truculent gaze fix on the small chip. “You’re entering a lion’s den.”

Days later, sitting in the comforts of a seedy hotel room, he began a procrastinated perusal. The foreboding wasn’t lost on him, but it was hard to take the contact seriously.

Thumbing through page after page, there was an eerie and hermetically sealed neatness to Alec Ryder’s life. For instance, Reyes learned that Ryder had long ago been dishonorably discharged from military service. His wife had passed in the interim years of said discharge and the launch of the Andromeda Initiative, and in the mean time it was his two children (twins, Reyes noted not without some piqued bemusement) who carried on his legacy.

Interspersed in this brief biography were candid photographs to help visualize the picaresque scene. The first was a standard military mug-shot-esque portrait. Cropped hair, with only a shadow trailing his chin to speak of a beard, and relatively seamless lines over his eyes. Ryder was undoubtedly a young and fearless man at the time the picture was taken. A churlish half-grimace marked the taut clenching of his jaws. The soft features of his rather short, plump nose were marked by the hardness of his jowls and the height of his gaunt cheekbones. During training, his supervisor would note that such details in a photo held a proverbial thousand words. Was he nervous when the photo was taken? Is he squeamish about recording his likeness? Having it reflected? Or is he simply a dim-witted man whose soulless eyes and hardlined brows knew of no other sentiment save duty? The instructor’s voice went on and on, giving page after page of psychoanalysis to be inferred from the deceptively trite details of a photo.

It was dated before the First Contact War. Reyes nodded his head as he read the small captioned dates couched in between the photos. Strange, Reyes thought, that he already wore such a murderous look even before he bore the grisly testimony of war.

His thumb flipped through, and soon the page entered into a different realm altogether.

What should’ve been a record of his medals of honor, his acts of valor, or even candid moments of boyishness with the other soldiers of his regiment were instead replaced with a more ...different version of his life. The next photo showed a woman sitting along a sanded bench as she looked out to an ocean. The waves before her were frozen to a mid-crash, waiting to throw their weight on sands that would never feel their wrath. She wore her hair in an up-done braid; a white flower with drooping petals that crowned her temples. She had brown skin and a pensive air about her. It took Reyes a second more of scrutiny, but he soon noticed the slight bump on her stomach protruding over the red, high-waisted hemline of her dress. A silk, shoulder-stiffened blouse almost covered it up. Below the photo was a terse caption: “Boracay, Philippines (February 2163).”

Reyes hemmed something of a breath, neither all that interested nor bored by his own obtrusions into the life of his father’s murderer. It seemed unforgivably quaint for such a sentimental photo to be buried in the dossier, like some remains of the mythic “American dream” bespoken from centuries past. His breathing seemed to deepen; his grip on his datapad tightening at the thought that such a man could live in contented peace, with a wife who was no more beautiful and perhaps not much kinder than his own mother; with children who would have all the luxuries robbed of him.

Next on the screen flared an idyllic, family portrait. Alec Ryder was dressed in military blues, that somewhat formal ceremonial garb so customary to soldiers who didn’t know how to be anything else. Next to him, the same young woman but this time with cropped, straightened hair and an understated white dress. Where Mr. Ryder was frowning in an attempt at deadpan solemnity, Mrs. Ryder was smiling brightly, lips reaching ear to ear – the familiar smile of mothers. She held two infants wrapped in some grayish blanket, their faces still obscured and blurred as they rested in their mother’s strong arms.

Another swipe of his finger, and a more recent photo came. A boy and a girl. They were crouched over a flower. The girl had a magnifying glass in tow, and the boy held onto a small toolbox. They both had warm black hair, tawny skin, and the unmistakably low, thickset brows of their father. The sister had a rounder face with big round black eyes shimmering against the flash of the camera, whereas her brother had a lankier skeleton figure. They must have been no more than ten, if he had to guess (truth be told, Reyes hadn’t seen much of children to make a better wager). He noticed the flower was one of many among a bush. A light pinkish ombre traced over its half blossomed petals, and on its leaf dangled a lime green cocoon. The girl eagerly pointed at it, showing the same ear-to-ear grin he recognized from her mother in the family photo.

With a sigh, Reyes set the datapad down. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing firmly between his eyes to coax out an encroaching headache. Somehow, the prospect of watching this family go through happier memories left a bitter taste in his mouth. A dryness, wrapped in that cottonmouth feel, left a piercing sensation at his throat. Without skipping a beat, Reyes pushed back the rolling chair before marching off to his kitchenette. The streaming of tap water pouring pressurized, milky white water into his glass seemed to soothe a bit of the migraine.

You’re selfish, he recalled an accusatory ex saying. Just a year ago, he had been pouring himself a glass of water in that same spot, in that same ungodly hour, when an unhappy lover aired out what dirty laundry they had.

I’m not selfish, he wanted to argue back. But he didn’t.

Reyes wondered if Alec Ryder ever suffered such accusations from his family; if that happy pregnant wife of his was always smiling back as she relished the summer breeze born of tropical waters; and did his children call him selfish too? Or did they know him by the advertised merits of his so-called service as some gallant and retired hero? He puzzled over what secrets must have festered among the Ryders, and whether it was she (and not him) who stayed up sleepless, wondering what violence he participated in. But something throbbing in Reyes’s temples drummed out such pointless contemplations. In all likelihood, Reyes thought, his wife died happy with her husband, unknowing if not uncaring of what enemies he made in their time together.

Ryder had his happy family; Reyes was left with nothing but the skeleton of hopes simmering beneath migraines, the toothy grin of a dead mother, and his faint remembrance of his father’s remains landing on his foot. A gnawing restlessness tugged at his chest, and the familiar coiling of his stomach left him frozen on the floor. The sound of water dripping from the sink rang hollow against the tiled walls. It would take several more minutes before he would regain control of himself, breathe back a sigh of relief, and rest back on his chair to welcome in sweet sleep.

The datapad would remain untouched on his desk for the rest of the evening. It wouldn’t even follow him across the Citadel, past the docks, and onto the rendezvous point for the future members of Ark Hyperion. It would collect dust, as the photographs would have if they had been made of film and materialized beyond its digitized existence in the microchip dossier.

Reyes left all evidence of whatever life Ryder might have had on that desk, content to let it wither into obscurity lest he wavered in his conviction.

Too late for that, he thought as he gulped down the tepid sink water. Too late for that...

“Reyes Vidal?”

The cryogenic technician was a mousy man. His face was half buried in his glasses, and it seemed all the hustle and bustle of people trying to get into their places made him recede further inward.

Reyes stepped forward with a nod. “Present,” he said in smiling, sardonic fashion. He had been waiting near three hours.

The technician readied his omnitool. An orange array of holographic text and codes lit up the squeamish pallor of his face, and soon an entire team of people in lab coats surrounded him. He had boarded the Hyperion just hours earlier, but he was immediately shepherded with several other nameless faces into a cryo lab, waiting in line like excited, anxious cattle.

“Look here,” an Asari doctor said as she appeared seemingly from the shadows.

Reyes’s pupils followed her pen as she waved it far to his right, and again as she flung it opposite to his left.

“Good,” she said, not without some cool urgency ringing in her voice. Another doctor (or perhaps a technician? a nurse?) prodded him with their stethoscope; another surreptitiously wrapped a blood pressure monitor around his arm. An array of small and simple tests made him feel poked and slightly invaded, but he had been prepared for it well enough that he bore it stoically with nothing but crooked smile to hint at his annoyance. At least these last minute things weren’t as bad as, say, the “psych evals” he had passed with flying colors just a month before.

“Did I pass?” he asked, making plain the irascible glower in his eyes as he brandished a lopsided grin.

She eyed him with a momentary glance, more curious than annoyed. “Pathfinder team?” she read aloud with an incredulous tone from the file on her interface. A stubborn roll of laughter rumbled from her throat, which she tried to hide with a gritty cough. She then fiddled with her omnitool.

Reyes wanted to ask her what was so funny, but she turned her attention away to the cryogenic technician just as he opened his mouth. “He’s ready,” she said before marching off to the next patient. She walked several paces down a different platform before she stopped in front of a woman with gaudy blue – or was it purple? - hair. It was striking amidst a crowd of humans just how much of an eyesore the unnatural radiance of the shade had beneath the sallow, brightly burning LED bulbs. He thought with an amused bob of his head, fingers pinching at his chin, that the piquant color didn’t match the Asari’s own complexion. “Who’s that?” he asked aloud, to no one in particular.

The mousy cryo technician jumped up startled, as if the mere unaccounted-for voice of his patient was its own thunderous panic in need of quelling. “Uh... uh....” He pointed at his glasses, moving them up over the bridge of his nose. “That’s Ms. Ryder... Sarianna Ryder.” There was an added yet nevertheless abrupt weight dropped off just at the sound of her name in his pronunciation of it. He retreated into the shell of his lab coat, shoulders seemingly engulfing his now disappearing neck. “She’s in the same team as you, s-sir.”

A small wick – a mere brush of glowing embers – lit in Reyes’s eyes. Said-Pathfinder’s daughter remained with her back facing them, chatting with the doctor in blissful ignorance of her watchful audience. He tried to listen, to gain what he could in the supposed lion’s den now that he found one of them, but all around him a stampede of voices fought for air in the high, vaulted ceilings. Voices didn’t get very far, and he really had nothing to work from beyond the taut smile on the doctor’s face and the lackadaisical slackening of “Sarianna” Ryder’s two shoulders.

If the child was there then the parent couldn’t have been too far. And... where’s the twin? Reyes’s eyes dashed from one corner to the other, craning his neck so as to scan the room, cluttered as it was with tech and people. Ugh, he groaned with a reflexive grinding of his teeth. There’s always too many people...

“S-ssir are you ready?” the technician stammered out the question before hurriedly racing to the finish.

Reyes shrugged before traipsing off to the designated platform. The hiss of machines as their mechanical, rigid limbs pressed through hydraulics lowered a cryopod before him. The vessel itself clasped to the ground before steam poured through its crevices as the door glided open. An orange line swam through the glass surface, buzzing after the circuitry made the whole thing light up in serene, neon blue.

“I guess I have to be.”

Perhaps the technician would’ve appreciated his wit if it hadn’t been delayed by Reyes’s own dumbstruck awe. His pupils constricted half in anxiety-ridden fear of its smallness; its rigidly square skeleton of a hovel dark and foreboding. He was told he would be asleep for more than six hundred years, and yet the prospect of passing through it all trapped in a box was a reality that never set in. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and the stunned and audible gulp in his throat betrayed his wariness to the other man.

“I-if you would please step in, s-sir.” The technician stretched out his hand in a guiding gesture towards the pod. Though the stammering continued on, he exchanged his nerve-wracked expression for a more placid bewilderment in the face of Reyes’s wild-eyed fear.

Behind them, an irate elsewise nondescript member of the Hyperion in their white and blue accented jumpsuit tapped their foot audibly. “We don’t have all day,” muttered the faceless man under his breath.

Reyes shot a menacing glare over his shoulder, but the surly man merely parried with an aversion of his eyes, leaving nothing save an audibly exasperated sigh to trail after his simpering impatience. You have six hundred years, actually.

He swung one leg over the pod before hoisting himself over the door and lowering himself onto the compartment.

“Now breathe sir.” The mousy man’s words tapered off as the glass door slid back in. Another jet of steam poured through, fogging up the surface just as it closed over his head in a series of clicks. A few other silhouettes hovered above him, he could see, but the condensation blurred all sight, and the figures merely looked like blobs melding together as the chill set in over the hairs of his skin.

A muffled sound fought against the perforated seals of his pod.

“W-we’ll see you on the other side, s-sir.”

The blobs of shadows and silhouettes dispersed, and the glass seemed to ice a silver sheen above him. Within the pod a blue light flashed in a burst into an all-white wash before it receded into a haze of pitch darkness. Reyes’s ears thrummed as it struggled to keep up pace with the staggered heaving of his lungs.

His heart kept the beat going. The rhythm steadfast, and yet his ears just couldn’t keep up. It seemed to trudge through the seconds as his vision, then his smell, and then even the frostbitten touch of his fingers waded somewhere – aimless and distant.

I’m going to right some wrongs, mamá.

Your father wasn’t a bad man...

You won’t be alone.

The last thing he could remember was his breath dispersed, as if torn and stretched and spread until it streamed against his face.

And then there was nothing.

#Reyes Vidal #Sarianna Ryder #fReyder fic #Reyes Squadmate AU #i forgot to promote this LOL

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seriouslyhooked · 7 years

Text

Some Call It Magic (A CS AU) Part 2/?

When Killian Jones moves to Storybrooke he instantly senses something strange about this little town in Maine but he’s willing to overlook all the bizarre signs for one reason: the single Mum living next door to him. There’s only one problem. Killian is nearly positive she’s a witch, a brewing potions and casting spells witch. But when true love is involved, does a little thing like magical powers really matter? Story rated M.

Part 1 Here. Also On FF Here.

A/N: So first and foremost I want to say thank you so much for the great response I got from so many of you! It makes writing so much easier on my end when I know I have people who are as excited as I am to get to the next chapter. That being said, this installment takes place on the same day as chapter one but from Killian’s POV. Hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you all think!

What a difference six hour’s worth of highway makes, Killian thought to himself as he drove past the outer limits of Storybrooke and into the heart of this quaint town on the coast of Maine.

It occurred to Killian more than once on the drive to this sleepy little hamlet that this might be the making of a total disaster. He’d tendered his resignation at one of the nation’s greatest papers this week, where he had leeway on writing any story he wanted, and for what: a complete one-eighty where he traded in a ritzy Manhattan flat for a seaside cottage in a town with under a thousand occupants. Killian was almost certain that his old apartment building alone had more people living in it than the whole of Storybrooke, and if he had to guess, the impending culture shock would not be insignificant.

But even if this move was certifiably crazy, it offered something Killian had been desperately craving for a long time: change. He’d been stuck for too long in the same cyclical, boring life that never evolved in any way. Every story that he wrote (even the most abnormal ones that he wrestled for weeks to get just right) was formulaic. His hobbies were predictable and his poor attempt at a social life was totally contrived. There was nothing new in Killian’s world, nothing that gave him the rush that climbing the ladder at the paper once provided. Yes, Killian he had success in his profession, but what did it matter if he ended each day feeling unfulfilled?

“If you’re that unhappy, why don’t you go off and write that bloody book you used to talk about? You’ve got the money. You’ve got your health. What the hell is stopping you?”

His brother Liam’s opinion had come as a surprise to Killian when he offered it a week ago. Liam was a workaholic to the extreme stationed as an in-fighting consultant for the US Navy. He was never home and he preferred it that way so Killian assumed that Liam would fail to see why someone could want more for their life than their work, but his brother surprised him with his insight on their last Skype call.

“You’ve only got one life, brother. Better to find something that matters and secure it than to wake up one day and realize you would do it all differently if you could.”

With those words in mind, Killian debated with himself about what choice to make. He wanted a sign or something more than simple suggestion from his brother that this was the right play, and when he got home that day he found one. For there, interspersed in the usual bills and flyers that came each day in the mail, was something unusual: a post card bearing an appealing picture of the ocean and the words ‘Storybrooke, Maine.’

The oddness of the piece of mail grew that much more bizarre when Killian flipped it over and found that it was handwritten with an almost child-like script and addressed to him personally. Not ‘current resident,’ not the name of the last tenant who once lived here, but Killian Jones. On the card there was also a short but informative message:

‘You’ll find what you’re looking for here.’

Maybe Killian should have read that and been skeptical. After all what was someone in a town in Maine doing sending him a personalized post card? But then he reasoned that it must be some kind of marketing ploy, and in his case they might just have convinced him. There was something about the earnestness and clarity this postcard brought even while being wrapped in mystery that intrigued him.

So Killian did the only logical thing he could think of; he hopped on his laptop and googled the place, scrolling deeper and deeper into what he could find of Storybrooke and falling into a fantasy of what life there might be like. The next thing he knew, Killian was searching real estate listings and sending an email to a woman named Elsa who appeared to be the only realtor in the whole town, hoping to find a house of his own despite having never even been to Storybrooke in his life.

Now, not even a week later, he was here. After spending a night in a hotel in Portland, Killian rose with the dawn and headed for Storybrooke, arriving at the town’s real estate office at the bright and early hour of 7:00 AM. And he knew he had the right place to, for just out front of the tiny office was Elsa (who he recognized from her website) awaiting him with her hand covering a yawn as she tightly gripped some coffee in a portable cup.

“Killian Jones I presume?” She asked when he approached and he nodded.

“Aye. And you must be Elsa,” she nodded and Killian made sure to thank her for doing this as they walked inside her office. “I appreciate you humoring me with the early hour.”

“Oh it’s no problem. Clearly you’re eager to call Storybrooke home,” she said cheerily before pausing a bit. He could see a question brewing in her eyes but she bit it back and moved to get the rest of the materials they’d be needing.

“You want to ask me why exactly it is that I’ve moved here at all,” Killian acknowledged and she blushed a bit at being found out before nodding.

“It is a little strange. We don’t get a ton of new people,” she said but then quickly she tried to rephrase. “I mean obviously there are new people sometimes. We’re not like barring people at the town lines or anything. I mean…”

“It’s just that this isn’t really a town on the beaten path,” Killian filled in.

“Exactly!” Elsa said with relief.

Killian decided it was best to give her a snippet of his past and his hopes for the future but he was glad when Elsa didn’t pry for more than the Reader’s Digest version. Instead she worked diligently so that in twenty minutes time they had all the paperwork for the sale completed. It was a quick and relatively painless process, and Killian was amazed at just how easy it was to solidify a life altering decision when one put their mind to it.

In all honesty, Killian had been what many people might call reckless with this whole affair, not bothering to go see the house in person before putting in an offer. But Killian had seen it amongst the listings and known that if he was going to do this, that was the house for him. He also figured the price was low, it was close to the coast, and if it turned out to be total rubbish he could find another place or take it as a sign to give up on the whole idea of small town living all together.

This property also had the added bonus of being fully furnished so Killian hadn’t had to buy new things. He’d chosen a similar set up back in New York (because he never gave much thought to the styling’s of the place he largely just went to sleep) and all his actual belongings of any sentimental worth had fit in his car in a matter of boxes. Killian hoped that the existence of furnishings in this new place would keep it from feeling too empty, but it was a risk to say the least. After all he could show up and the whole place could be done up in frilly lace or garish shades that hurt to look at.

“Well Mr. Jones, I’m pleased to inform you that you are now officially a Storybrooke homeowner. Here’s the key to your new place,” Elsa said happily when they were done, pulling him from his worries.

Killian accepted the key and it’s copies, feeling a level of excitement he didn’t expect when the cool metal grazed his palm. The action of holding the key eased away his earlier doubts instantly, and Killian decided to hold onto that and keep that faith close as long as he could.

After a basic farewell to Elsa and a promise on her behalf that she’d see him around, Killian departed from her office and headed back into the sunny, mild morning that now seemed filled with so much possibility. He’d just bought a house, an actual house, and Killian wondered if he shouldn’t go and see it now that all was said and done. But there was one part of this town that beckoned him more than his future home could: the seascape that had lured him here in the first place.

When Killian arrived at the Storybrooke Beach, there was no one else around, but he didn’t mind. The serenity he imagined when glancing at that postcard back in New York was made real in this moment. The slow laps of the waves on the shore were peaceful and even, embodying a rhythm that was familiar for Killian and evocative of the only real home he’d known back in England when he was a lad. Back then it was him and Liam against the world and the sea had been the back drop for most of their good memories.

Bringing out his phone for the first time since stepping into town, Killian decided it wouldn’t be a bad idea to take a picture and to send it to the brother that had largely gotten him here. Killian made sure to include the passing sailboats in the distance and when he was satisfied that their crisp, white sails were visible, he sent the picture and a short message to Liam:

‘Not even thirty minutes in and I’ve already found more enticement for you here than in all of Manhattan. Consider this a firm demand that you take leave early this go around instead of waiting like you always do.’

While Killian knew his brother wouldn’t respond for a week or so thanks to the missions he was on, it felt good to get that check-in off his list of things to do. Yet speaking of lists, Killian had a great many things on his plate at the moment, and while staring out at the sea might be more enjoyable, he had to get back to reality and face the music so to speak. So he departed the sands with one last look and thought to himself that he’d be back soon enough to enjoy the salty air and subtle breeze he’d already come to love.

Once back in town again, Killian decided that it wouldn’t hurt to stop for some provisions. Nothing major of course, but he was relatively certain that Storybrooke wouldn’t boast any twenty-four hour establishments as New York did. He had a full day ahead of assessing what needed changing and doing with his house, so he set off to get some food and tools to pave his way at least for a few days.

Crossing the street to where the one town grocer appeared to be, Killian noticed the continued smiles and ‘good mornings’ that were tossed his way, but there came a moment when he had this feeling that he was missing something. It wasn’t a concrete thought per se, but a pull to look at one of the storefronts just beside the grocer. When he did, he noticed a flash of blonde hair and the barest glimpse of a lithe figure moving out of sight, but the window was hardly empty despite the departure, and there staring at him were three women, one of them being Elsa.

It was clear in that moment that the women had been staring at him. Killian could read it all over the faces of Elsa and the shorter woman beside her who both had the decency to look guilty, but the brunette to Elsa’s right was hardly deterred by being caught. Instead of appearing ashamed, she just started to wave, which set Elsa and the other woman doing the same. Killian nodded in their direction and smiled, but he pushed past the place to the grocer all the same not wanting to get sidetracked.

“You must be the new import everyone’s been talking about all morning,” a voice said to Killian when he’d barely entered the store.

Killian looked over and found a man with a wide smile and easy disposition. He’d guess they were around the same age, and from the white coat the man was donning he was likely some sort of Doctor. It was funny to Killian though, because underneath the coat the man wore a flannel, jeans and sturdy boots, as if Maine living meant even the utmost professionals needed to be ready for a hike at the drop of a hat.

“Yeah that would be me,” Killian confirmed and the man extended his hand.

“David Nolan, town vet.”

“Killian Jones, resident new guy” he offered in response as he shook David’s hand. “So the gossip’s already in full swing, huh?”

“Don’t worry, it gets easier,” David promised. “When I got here a few years back the talk was pretty constant but eventually it fades. And hey, maybe you’ll get lucky and someone else will move here soon.”

“How often does that happen?” Killian asked, already guessing the answer.

“Every couple of years, give or take,” David said with another smile and Killian shook his head.

“Right. Well I’m afraid they’ll be disappointed. I don’t have that sordid of a tale to study,” Killian admitted.

“That’s alright, they can work with anything,” David teased before asking a genuine question. “So what brings you to Storybrooke?”

“I’m hell-bent on becoming a cliché,” Killian said sarcastically before filling in the rest of his plan. “I’m here for a change, pondering the big universal questions, thinking of writing a novel...”

“A novel? That sounds great!” David proclaimed. “I’ll have to tell Mary Margaret that. She’ll be thrilled to have a writer in town, and you’re moving next to Emma and Henry so you might just become her new favorite person.”

“Who?” Killian asked, not following David’s sudden enthusiasm.

“Right sorry. Your next-door neighbor Emma Swan is one of my wife Mary Margaret’s best friends. She and her son Henry live in the little blue house next door to you and she owns the Stay A Spell Café next door.”

“And why would my proximity to this Emma Swan make your wife happy?” Killian asked, his mind lingering on this unknown woman’s name curiously when it passed through his lips. Meanwhile, David suddenly looked like he’d given away too much and Killian sighed somewhat dramatically, having a sneaking suspicion of what it could be. “Let me guess – an eligible and undeniably attractive man moves to town and all anyone can think is who to set him up with.”

“You kid, but you’re not wrong. That’s exactly what everyone will do. The whole town is in love with love and Emma… well she’s been a town favorite since the day she got here,” David admitted and Killian found himself perplexed but also wanting to ask some more about his new neighbor. She wasn’t from here either? How had she ended up here? But before he could ask, David was making his excuses. “Anyway I gotta get to the clinic to open up, but if you ever need anything I’m around.”

“Lots of trials and tribulations lining my path here in Storybrooke?” Killian asked and David shook his head with another smile appearing on his face.

“No, but Storybrooke is… special. Things will come up and when they do I’m an excellent listener.”

With that David said goodbye and though there were some strange elements to the conversation he’d just had, Killian didn’t leave the man thinking less of him. Actually he figured he might have found a potential new friend, which would no doubt be useful since he’d up and left all his old ones in New York.

From there, Killian ran into a great many more talkative citizens of Storybrooke (none of whom were his mystery neighbor), and his quick jaunt to the market and the hardware store ended up taking far longer than he expected because of it. As an act of necessary self-preservation, Killian went straight home from there, pulling his car into the driveway of his new estate and taking it all in for the first time.

This house was the quintessential New England home, which was to say it was a few hundred years old and, but it had an air of being well preserved, as if the previous owner had given it a lot of tender love and care. Everything was new and fresh, with the white paint gleaming from a newly applied coat and the yard appearing immaculate in every way. It was clean and clutter-free, and for that reason it stood rather in contrast to the house next door.

Thanks to the blue color and its small shape, Killian was able to guess that this was the home of the neighbors David mentioned before, and while he wouldn’t call it messy, the cottage was definitely adorned with a good number of unusual trinkets. A uniquely decorated wind chime hung on the front porch, and tiny, colorful pinwheels dotted the lawn as did a number of little gnomes and figurines. From the front of the house Killian could make out a structure in the backyard that he assumed was an ornate kind of trellis covered in vines, and way in the back up high in an old oak tree was a tree house.

On top of that the whole property was nearly surrounded by flowers, some wild and some meticulously gardened, and Killian was amazed at most of the varieties. Lilacs, sunflowers, even a few roses were all thriving and growing at a rate he couldn’t imagine. He could have sworn a number of these blossoms weren’t in season, but here they remained, all in the apparent peak of bloom with September already starting.

Staring at the house his neighbors had made for themselves, Killian felt a sudden pang of longing. That was a home – a real home - filled with life and a vibrancy he’d never experienced before. It was captivating even in it’s busyness, and Killian didn’t have to meet Emma Swan or her son to know that there was a love in that house. Nothing less could settle in a place like that. There had to be a real kind of magic to bring something like this to life.

Killian couldn’t tell if he was comforted by the clear sense of rightness next-door or a little envious, be he decided on the former. Happy neighbors would probably be good to have as apposed to surly ones, and though his house might not boast the same level of inherent cheer, it did hold a comfortable ambiance that Killian appreciated. He’d worried that the furnishings would be to the taste of an old woman, but once inside Killian found nothing lacking. It was classic and appropriate for the house and though he found a few rooms he might change once he was settled, this would do very well indeed.

“Alright, so all in all not a heinous disaster yet,” Killian mused to himself hours later after he’d found a place for the last of his things and gotten some of the cleaning and organizing out of the way. He’d made a lot of progress, but there was still more to do with the rest of his afternoon and Killian was just about to dive into one of the actual building projects when a sharp rapping sound moved against the window, shaking the pane of glass at a dangerous rate.

“What the hell?” Killian muttered as he saw the shaking branches tapping vigorously against his window. He moved to get a better look but unfortunately his sight was obscured from this vantage point leaving him with no choice: he had to go outside and face the culprit himself if he had any hope of making it stop.

Moving through the upstairs and down to the first floor, Killian’s mind considered some possibilities of what the commotion could be, but when he stepped outside he was surprised by what had actually caused the ruckus. There was currently a small person trying to climb this tree and shaking the branches as he moved along. The person – nay, the child – in question was coaching himself aloud as he moved along the branch, and for a second Killian was too perplexed to come up with a way to address this perfect stranger trespassing on his land.

“Almost there. Just a little bit more…” The boy said with a hopeful bravado in his voice one didn’t hear outside of conversations with children, but Killian didn’t like the idea of him going any further. He was risking himself enough as is and a fall from that height could be dangerous.

“Something I can help you with, lad?” Killian called up to the boy who stilled at the words. After a second he looked down at Killian with a huge grin. Funny – when Killian had been caught making a nuisance of himself in his neighbor’s yards as a child his instinct had never been to smile, but this boy looked damn near delighted at his presence, and Killian couldn’t help but extend a smile in return.

“Actually yeah. There’s a kitten up here and she’s too scared to come down but I can’t reach her without doing something that my Mom would call ‘stupid reckless.’”

Killian chuckled at the phrasing and he appreciated the sentiment. This wasn’t the safest of activities for a young boy to be engaging in, but his mother’s words playing in his mind was a good sign. Hopefully it meant that even if Killian hadn’t stumbled upon him, the lad wouldn’t have climbed much higher and potentially hurt himself in his heroic pursuit.

“You wouldn’t happen to be Henry would you?” Killian asked and the boy looked thrilled at being discovered.

“Yeah! How did you know?” Henry asked excitedly.

“Ah well that’s easy enough – you’re Storybrooke famous. I couldn’t go even one morning in town without hearing of you. So why don’t you hop down from there so I can give it a try and you can spare yourself the scolding from your mother later?”

“So is this your house now?” Henry asked as he shimmied down the tree and Killian found himself aligning with Henry’s movements in case he should slip. “Did you buy it from Mrs. Hubbard?”

“Aye I did,” Killian confirmed.

“Cool! What’s your name?” Henry asked as his feet hit the ground. His eyes were wide with a real want to know and Killian had never felt quite so interesting in his life.

“Killian Jones.” As soon as Killian provided the answer, Henry was thrilled all over again, as if somehow the name itself was some kind of awesome occurrence.

“So Killian, where ya from?” Henry asked, the cat seemingly forgotten but Killian laughed to himself. If first impressions could be trusted, his new young neighbor was precocious at the very least.

“Originally Britain but I detoured in New York.”

Henry snickered immediately at the joke and Killian didn’t have time to wonder if perhaps he’d made a comment too high brow for the lad to understand. Still there was something about earning a laugh from the boy that made Killian happy. When was the last time he’d even had contact with a kid? And were all of them this prone to good humor? Killian could hardly tell the answer to either question.

“That’s cool. My Mom and I lived there too. New York I mean. I’ve never been out of the country,” Henry said sounding a little remiss, but not too heartbroken about it.

“I think there’s hope yet for you, lad. What are you? Ten? Eleven?”

“I’m ten going on forty, or so my Mom says sometimes when I make a good point.”

“I bet that happens fairly often,” Killian acquiesced and Henry grinned, his chest puffing out proudly as he did.

“You bet!”

“So, this feline that needs saving… is she a companion of yours?” Killian asked nodding towards the tree and seeing the small bundle of black fur still nestled high up on a branch.

“Nope. I just got off the bus and heard her meowing. I followed the sound and I ended up here,” Henry said. “Can you help?”

“I think I can manage,” Killian said, assessing the sturdiness of the tree and gauging how he wanted to go about this.

With a quick word of caution for Henry to step back, Killian started his climb and got to the part where Henry had made it, knowing the branches would no doubt be hitting his windows again. The real problem came, however, when Killian ran out of places to safely step. If he moved too far a branch could break and he’d go tumbling down. But the kitten was still a good arm’s length from him and shaking from the whole ordeal.

“Come on then, can’t you see I’m trying to help you?” Killian asked, knowing full well the animal had no idea what the hell he was saying, but what else was he supposed to do? Maybe he’d bought something from the store to lure it closer? As Killian considered the possibilities Henry spoke again.

“You ever rescued a cat before?” Henry asked and Killian gritted his teeth, not in anger but frustration at his own lack of ability.

“Not that I recall,” Killian replied, knowing full well that the answer was no.

“There’s a trick to it you know,” Henry offered. “You could sing something.”

“Sing something?” Killian asked, perplexed at the suggestion.

“Yeah. My teacher, Mary Margaret, says it’s kind of like purring and as long as your voice isn’t terrible it should work,” Henry said with an earnestness that Killian chose to believe.

“You weren’t singing a second ago,” Killian noted and Henry shrugged.

“That’s because my voice is too high. I’m only ten, remember?”

“Aye,” Killian said before resigning himself to the fact that he was going to have to sing if just to appease his energetic neighbor. “Any requests?”

“No country,” Henry replied adamantly as if Killian would somehow be well versed in that genre and Killian bit back a laugh.

“Yeah I can pretty much promise you that, lad.”

In the end Killian went with a song easily hummed to, and though the first few moments he highly doubted the merit of Henry’s claims, he was shocked to find that the small cat moved closer to him as he continued the song. Soon enough the cat was within arm’s reach, and with only a little bit of risk on his part, Killian was able to grab her safely and make his way back down. When he was safely on land once more, Killian debated handing the cat to Henry but then reconsidered.

“There’s no telling if she’s sick with something, mate. We should see about getting her to Doctor Nolan first just to be safe.”

“You know David?” Henry asked surprised and Killian nodded.

“Aye. He’s the one who told me about you and your Mum.”

Henry’s face broke into another smile at the mention of his mother, and the look in his eyes was filled with something. Killian’s instincts told him that there was a plan brewing in the boy’s head, but before he could comment on that, the sound of a woman’s voice cut through everything.

“Henry, there you are!”

In that moment of first seeing the woman he assumed was Henry’s mother, Killian found himself at a loss for words. There was no means of understanding the beautiful sight before him. Emma Swan, if that was who this was, was more alluring and initially striking than anyone he’d ever met. It was like one second he was half asleep and the next he was jolted by this sudden sense of rightness. Everything about her was made of equal perfect parts, from her blonde flowing hair to her expressive green eyes. Even in this moment when worry was only just finding relief at her son being okay, she was stunning and so much more than Killian ever expected or knew how to handle.

Bloody hell! He thought to himself, not knowing what to say or do. Suddenly he was awkward when that had never been a problem for him, but for the moment he was spared by her continued attention being given to her son. She hadn’t so much as looked his way yet, and if Killian had any hope of not appearing a total fool, he needed to steady himself before she deigned to do so.

“Hey Mom!” Henry greeted, looking fully pleased with himself and the turn in situation.

“What are you doing here, kid?” Emma asked in a softer, but still firm tone. “You’re supposed to get off at Grace’s stop on Monday’s, you know that.”

“Oh. Am I still doing that this year?” Henry asked, but there was something less genuine in the lad’s voice than Killian had experienced since meeting him. If he had to guess, Killian would say that Henry knew what he was doing and that he’d gone against the original plan willingly.

“Yeah Henry, you are. I’m supposed to be working until five on Mondays, same as always.”

“Okay, Mom. I’ll remember next time,” Henry promised, and his mother seemed to trust him in that, giving him a nod and bringing him in for another hug.

This level of understanding reached between mother and son, however, prompted that next gloriously terrifying step Killian had been anticipating. Finally, after what felt like forever, Emma looked his way, and the connection he’d anticipated was like a punch in the gut and the warm rush of sunshine after a cold, dark winter all at once. He was thrown for a moment as they stood there silently gazing at each other, before Henry stepped in and saved the day.

“Mom, this is Killian. He’s out new neighbor from New York. Killian, this is my Mom, Emma Swan.”

“It’s nice to meet you Killian,” Emma offered kindly, her hands remaining on Henry’s shoulder’s in a protective way, as if she was still trying to convince herself that she’d found her son and he was truly okay.

“You as well, Swan,” Killian replied back clumsily.

Killian nearly smacked himself in the forehead for that lack of cool and his strange use of her last name, but then he remembered that wasn’t an option, not when he still held this small, furry beast in his hand. He looked down to the small puff of fur at the same time Emma did and when he looked back her way, he saw how much easy affection she had for the animal. She’d been a practical ray of sunshine since the moment he saw her, but now she was even more than that, exuding this kind of power he couldn’t readily explain.

“This your friend?” Emma asked in a way that simultaneously teased him and offered appreciation of the small kitten in his grasp.

“Not exactly,” Killian said, casting a glance at Henry who was making a sign for him not to rat him out. Killian didn’t want to lie to Emma in any way, so he chose his words carefully and selected only part of the story to share with her. “I just got her down from the tree with some guidance from your boy here, so I’d say we’re really acquaintances at best.”

Emma laughed at the joke and if Killian had thought it felt good to earn that sound from her son, there was nothing to compare earning one from Emma. It felt like he’d just won every damn prize in the book, and he immediately had this want to make Emma laugh like that again. He wracked his brain trying to think of something funny to say but he couldn’t form the words. He was too consumed with that lingering smile that played at her lips to formulate anything of sense to say.

“Well she seems to have taken a liking to you,” Emma said. “Are you a cat person?”

“I never gave it much thought to be honest, love,” Killian answered and Emma’s smile widened, filling his whole being up with light as she did.

“You might want to. I don’t think you’ll be shaking her anytime soon.”

Killian knew Emma was likely right about that given the fact that this little creature was purring up a storm and cuddling further into him with every given second. It was nice though, and even though he hadn’t had a pet since he was young, the thought of this little thing being in that great big house with him lent a level of comfort. He’d just have to ask David when he eventually got to his clinic if anyone had reported a missing cat. Then he’d have to figure out how exactly to care for a cat since he didn’t have even a remote idea.

“Hey Mom, you know what would be a great idea? We should have Killian over for dinner tonight!” Henry said excitedly and Killian actually really liked the sound of that. But his hope for such an invitation faded when in that moment Emma’s face fell, causing Killian’s heart to clutch painfully in his chest. She looked stricken by the proposition, and here he was thinking things had been going rather well.

“Maybe another time, kid. We have plans at Belle’s tonight, remember?” Emma said, offering Killian an apologetic look as she did. He clung to that expression, hoping it meant that she wasn’t counting out the idea on the whole.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that” Henry said disappointedly. “ So tomorrow then?”

“Let’s give Mr. Jones the chance to settle in a little before we beat down his door with invitations, okay? Now go grab your backpack. I’ve got to get back to the café and you’re coming with me.”

“Alright. See you later?” Henry asked Killian earnestly, as if he was a little afraid that Killian might make a run for it after everything.

“Aye, lad, I’ll be here,” Killian promised as Henry ran back into his house presumably to get his stuff. Both Killian and Emma watched him go but then something dawned on Killian – she’d just used his last name and Henry hadn’t mentioned it in their introduction.

“What?” Emma asked when he looked at her with a smirk on his lips. She went a little pink under his gaze and Killian immediately took to that with the same intensity that he had her laugh. God she was something else.

“You knew my last name already. Someone’s been gossiping about their new neighbor.”

It was a risk to put that theory forward, because perhaps there was a chance that she’d merely spoken with the previous owner or stumbled upon his name in passing at that café David mentioned, but when her jaw dropped and she went fully red Killian knew he was right on. Emma Swan had been curious about him, and now he just had to hope that she wasn’t disappointed with the results.

“I wasn’t gossiping. I just happened to hear a couple of things that’s all,” she said, her eyes struggling to meet his when she did.

Killian could have pressed her on this, but as it was he didn’t want to push. Right now he was in this incredibly easy, almost blissful state with a woman he’d only just met and he didn’t want this feeling to fall away. The last thing he’d ever want to do was cross a line and move this from playful banter to a misunderstanding and so he allowed Emma to pivot to a different subject.

“Anyway, thanks for watching out for Henry. I hope he wasn’t too much trouble. He can be a handful.”

“Not at all, love. You’ve done a good job with him. From what I can tell he’s bloody brilliant.”

The pride that Emma displayed at the compliment to her son was profound, and Killian could tell that she was the kind of mother who truly loved her boy more than anything. That was as it should be, and Killian certainly hadn’t told a lie. He did like Henry a lot, and he hoped to see him and his mother often.

“Yeah he is,” Emma whispered happily.

Before Killian could say anything more, and before he was even remotely ready to say goodbye to her, Henry was coming out the door again, and the moment was broken. Emma was back in the mindset of getting to work, and as much as Killian would love to make an excuse to go and see her and Henry there, he knew he shouldn’t. Coming on too strong too fast was a bad move and if he had any chance of continuing to get to know Emma, he had to give himself the space to figure out just exactly what he was feeling.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Swan,” Killian said when she was just about to go and Emma turned back at him offering an enigmatic smile that had so much behind it that Killian was dying to figure out.

“Chocolate or vanilla?” She asked, the question totally taking him by surprise.

“What?” he asked, not knowing if he’d just dreamed up the question all together.

“It’s a simple question,” she clarified. “Chocolate or vanilla?”

“Chocolate, Swan. What do I look like a mad man?” he asked and she laughed again at that, this time in a lower way that tantalized the very fabric of his being when it washed over him.

“Chocolate it is,” she said and with that Emma Swan and her son were off, leaving Killian standing there and wondering what on earth she could have meant.

He discovered the answer to that a few hours later though, after he’d made a visit to David and gotten some more supplies for this surprising new roommate of his, when a basket arrived on his front door along with a note. Within the confines there were a substantial amount of treats that all had one single flavor in common – chocolate. He knew right then that they were from Emma, but the note she left with them sealed the deal.

Welcome to Storybrooke, neighbor. Glad you’re not a ‘mad man.’

And all night long after that Killian spent the evening enjoying the sweets he’d been left and thinking to himself that he was so incredibly right in coming here. For there was something truly special about Storybrooke and her name was Emma Swan.

Post-Note: So there we have it – Killian’s POV of the first day in Storybrooke. The nice thing about the coming chapters is that I am planning to go back to a dual point of view installment. This will mean more CS interaction and a faster pace, but I had a lot of things to set up for in this chapter and as such it ran a little long. Anyway, I hope you guys all enjoyed and thank you for reading.

#captain swan #captain swan au #captain swan fic #cs fic #cs ff #cs fluff #cs au #emma swan #killian jones #david nolan #elsa #the meddling friends #henry #ouat au #some call it magic #some call it magic au #some call it 2 #captain swan ff

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