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not-close-to-straight · 5 years

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Blue Roses (Crowley/Azira)(FlowerShop AU)

The obligatory Flower Shop AU for these Ineffable Dorks, ft. entirely smitten and dramatic demon!Crowley and adorable in every way human!Azira.

There’s more on my FIC MASTERLIST!

(A “hells bell” is another name for the ‘Devil’s Breath’ flower but also of course, a song by AC/DC, who I think Crowley would have thoroughly enjoyed)

Also, idk how this got so long?? I finally forced myself to stop??

******************

Hell’s Bells Botanicals was the most successful flower shop in all of London and in no way could that success be attributed to excellent customer service or the owner being the sort of chap who was friends with everyone.

In fact, Hell’s Bells Botanicals was the most successful flower shop in all of London despite having the worst customer service imaginable and an owner that obviously enjoyed making every moment in his shop as unpleasant as possible.

Anthony J Crowley was surly and ill mannered, impatient with potential customers and downright aggravating with repeat customers, and underwent transactions as if it irked him to his very soul to sell the plants he raised.

Most times he was hiding away in the green leaves and staring balefully from behind black sunglasses when a customer tried to talk to him, other times he sprawled gracelessly across the counter and smirked at the shock over his sheer unprofessional-ism.

He was awful-- sarcastic and churlish and flippant to the point of disrespect, but his plants were so lush, his flowers so lovely, the succulents beautiful in a nearly unearthly way, that even the Queen herself preferred his arrangements over any others.

Gardening magazines came to interview him, asking about his methods and his secrets, looking for tips and tricks so regular people at home could hope to have gardens as wonderful as the one Crowley boasted in the greenhouse out back.

All inquiries were answered with a smile bordering on insolent, a flash of too sharp teeth, and a snarky, “I’ve had six thousand years to perfect my gardening, why on Earth would I give my secrets away to you people?”

Hell’s Bells Botanicals was the best, its owner quite literally the worst, and seeing as how Crowley had been around since the dawn of time and had seen any and everything the world had to offer, he didn’t see anything changing anytime soon.

But then the empty bookshop across the way was purchased by a blonde man in an old fashioned sort of suit jacket, and life as Crowley knew it changed quite a bit.

*********************

“What on earth did you do to this plant?” Crowley levelled his fiercest frown at the twenty-something boy across the counter, holding up one brittle, spotted leaf of what had been a gloriously full aloe plant just a week before. “Did you torture it?”

“Of course not!” he sputtered, drawing himself up to rather un impressive height of just about five feet. “I watered it just like I water all my plants! Left it in the sun to give it a bit of perk! If you ask me, you sold me a dying plant and that’s why--eep!”

He shut up abruptly when Crowley’s frown turned into an outright glare. “What I meant was--”

“This aloe was perfect when I sssold it to you!” Crowley announced and the poor boy had the distinct feeling of being threatened by a snake. “How much did you water it?”

“...every day?”

“Every day?” he shouted. “You killed the poor thing! Drowned it like a pile of ratsss! Look at it!”

“I--I--”

“My god--” the word sounded strangled as if it physically pained the shop keep to say it. “--Who on earth kills a cactus? A cactus!”

“Anyway.” the young man said timidly. “I was hoping you’d give me another one? Quite liked it sitting there in my window and--”

“Here.” Crowley pulled a jar of aloe gel from...somewhere... and smacked it into the boy’s hand. “This is all the aloe you get to have. No more plants for you.”

“But--”

“No more plants for you!”

The boy left with his jar of aloe, shuffling out the door feeling inexplicably guilty for having failed at taking care of his plant, and inside the shop Crowley carried the wilting thing back to the greenhouse.

“Humans.” he snorted, tossing away his sunglasses to squint closer at the poor thing. “Six thousand years on this bloody rock and they still haven’t figured out how to take care of a plant. Suppose I shouldn’t be all that shocked considering they’ve barely figured out to take care of themsel--”

“Crowley?” A voice from the front of the shop and Crowley straightened with a jerk, flailing for his sunglasses to cover his rather other worldly eyes. “Crowley my dear, are you in today?”

Oh. Oh there was exactly one human in this city, on this isle, maybe even on the entire planet that made Crowley not want to breathe unholy fire and it would only be--

“Azira.” Crowley purred the name, baring his teeth in his friendliest smile and taking care to hide the sharper bits. “How are you today?”

“As well as always I suppose.” Azira was all things good cheer, an always ready smile topped with sparkling eyes and curls as bouncy as his always ready to burst laugh and Crowley absolutely adored him. “Back in your greenhouse, were you?”

“Coaxing life back into an aloe plant.” Crowley jumped up onto the counter just because he rather liked it when the bookshop owner had to look up at him from beneath damnably-- blessedly-- thick eyelashes. “Are you here for your flowers again?”

“It is the seventh.” Azira grinned and Crowley had to keep his wings from rustling in response, checking over his shoulder just in case he’d lost his hold on them and they were waving black and feathered above his head. “I’m here for the usual amount of blooms. You know, I’ve had so many compliments on those flowers, it’s brilliant how they manage to hold their color a month at a time.”

“I take special care to be sure they do.” Crowley answered, thinking back to the more than stern talking to he’d given the last round of flowers to be sure they stayed lovely and fresh for exactly a month. “Dunno why it is, flowers just seem to respond to me.”

“I’d say you have an angel’s touch.” Azira complimented, positively pink cheeked with it all and Crowley bit back a very un angelic growl at the innocent flirting. “I think something in shades of yellow this time, for the summer months?”

“I have just the thing.” He promised and jumped off the counter to head for the back room, a little extra swing in his already swaggering walk since he’d caught Azira watching more than once. “Do you like blue, Azira?”

“Yes, it’s quite lovely!” Azira called. “If you had a few pieces to put in with the yellow?”

“I’ll check and see.” Crowley called back from behind the door and then looked over at a pile of pink sweet peas and ordered quietly, “You are blue, aren’t you? At least three different shades so hop to it.”

And as an afterthought as he wrapped up a bouquet of yellow dahlias-- “Make it match the color of Azira’s eyes. Get on it now.”

The sweet peas did exactly what someone would expect pink flowers to do--meaning they did absolutely nothing-- until Crowley pointed a finger at them and growled, “I said hop. to. it.”

In a puff of pollen that was as close to talking back as as flower could come, the sweet peas shaded into a rich navy blue, a summer sky blue and then a shade that perfectly matched Azira’s eyes that Crowley mentally dubbed angel blue.

“Oh, Crowley they are perfect!” Azira beamed when Crowley returned with arms full of yellow dahlias and blue sweet peas. “Thank you so much! I’m so glad your flowers live so long you know, otherwise I’d be in here ever few weeks buying more and that would put a damper in my pocketbook, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, you’d come in here more if the flowers didn’t live so long?” Crowley queried. “How interesting.”

“Of course I would.” Azira buried his nose in the flowers and made a happy noise at the sweet scent. “You’re my favorite place on the block, you know. I don’t see why everyone else thinks you’re terrible, you’ve never said a cross word to me at all.”

“Yes.” Crowley had to work hard to keep the hiss from his voice and the smirk from his face. “Yes, I don’t see why they think I’m terrible either. I’ll see next month, then?”

“Of course.” Azira lay down the usual amount of money and turned to leave. “Good day, Crowley!”

“You will grow for two weeks and two weeks only.” Crowley snarled at the departing flower. “Thirteen days and on the fourteenth if you aren’t wilting, so help me someone I will come over and cut you myself!”

If Azira felt the dahlias trembling as he arranged them into a vase by the window, he didn’t think anything of it, just gave them fresh water and a soothing pat on the leaves. “There there, lovelies. Be fresh and sweet for me and brighten up my shop for a while, won’t you?”

He went to work shelving books, humming quietly and letting his thoughts wander back to the oddly good looking flower shop owner who had absolutely no reason to walk quite so provocatively or to wear pants quite that tight or to smile quite so knowingly.

And when Azira’s thoughts wandered too far down that particular path, he set himself to reorganizing the old encyclopedias.

Nothing remotely romantic about the Encyclopedia Britannica.

Nothing at all.

*****************

Exactly fourteen days later, a sheepish Azira stood in Crowley’s shop and waited with red cheeks for the man to stop practically howling in rage at someone having returned an apple tree that had been so thoroughly stripped of its bark it barely resembled a tree at all any more.

“Now, didn’t I tell you to get a bit of fence to put around it? Keep the deer away?”

“Well yes, but--”

“And you didn’t, so it got chomped to within an inch of its life?”

“I suppose so--”

“And you have the absolute nerve, the unmitigated gall to walk in here and to my face--” Crowley pointed at his sunglasses. “--and demand a refund because the tree didn’t survive? What a great pair of clangin’ brass balls you’ve got, huh?”

“I--I--”

“GET OUT!”

The woman scuttled from the shop muttering something about ‘lousy prick, would piss off the pope’ and ‘absolutely do not have brass balls, how dare he?’ as she went.

“You’re acting as if she maliciously murdered the poor thing.” Azira tsked, stepping up to the counter and touching the sad looking tree. “Just some careless on her part, sure to be forgiven don’t you think?”

“I am not in the business of forgiving.” Crowley snarled. “Especially not when people are lazy and careless and hurt innocent--” he looked up to see Azira’s lovely eyes very wide. “--um, innocent things. Did you need something, Azira? It hasn’t been a month already, has it?”

“Oh no, no it hasn’t been a month.” Azira whispered something encouraging to the tree and then looked up with an embarrassed sort of smile. “On the subject of plants not lasting as long as we hoped, I’m afraid to tell you my flowers have already withered. Don’t know if I watered them too much or forgot to add a little plant food, but I’m here for more.”

He rocked back on his heels, tugging at his coat in a nervous sort of gesture. “You aren’t going to shout at me and accuse me of having brass nethers are you?”

“I would never.” Crowley said solemnly, trying his very hardest not to laugh at how contrite Azira looked. “It’s no fault of your own that cut flowers don’t last long, it might be my snipping the stems at the wrong angle or something along those lines. I certainly won’t be shouting at you for that.”

“Oh thank heavens.” Azira’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “Anyway, I’m here to purchase more? In the same blue and yellow if you have it.”

“I’m sure I can make it happen.” Crowley cocked his head, looked Azira over curiously. “I don’t suppose I could make this up to you? No charge for the flowers since its most likely my fault and if you were amenable...” six thousand years on Earth and Crowley had never been more nervous than he was now. “...could I tempt you to dinner? The Ritz?”

“Oh dinner would be---.” Azira looked adorably flustered, flushed to the tip of his ears and playing with buttons of his vest. “The Ritz seems too fancy, though? And of course I’ll pay for more flowers, that isn’t an issue.”

“That isn’t a no to dinner, then?” Crowley planted both hands on the counter and leaned right over into Azira’s space, waggling his eyebrows above his glasses. “Just that the Ritz seems too fancy. Do you have another spot in mind?”

“Well, I--” Azira couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “If you insist, I do love a yummy dinner.”

“What’sss your favorite food, Azira?” Crowley let his ‘ss’ roll lazy at the end of the word, thrilled by the way Azira was so clearly happy about the invitation. “I’ll take you out tonight?”

“....I’m fond of seafood.”

“Excellent.” Crowley hated seafood but that didn’t matter at the moment. “I’ll bring your new flowers by when I pick you up.”

“Oh.” Azira looked as pleased as he’d ever been, eyes dropping shyly to the floor before meeting Crowley’s again. “Thank you.”

********************

Crowley had tired of dating or courting or anything even resembling those ridiculous customs almost a hundred years prior, giving up the arduous chase to settle for the occasional tumble with whichever pretty person caught his eyes.

He didn’t really have a sex drive, not in the traditional sense anyway, but it was fun to do all that sort of thing. Sex involved pleasure and lust and coveting and jealousy and half a dozen other things he had every right to indulge in seeing as how he was fallen and all.

Not that fallen really meant anything anymore. Angels themselves roamed around indulging in excess in the form of food or possessions, claiming to be in love and then moving from partner to partner and deciding that any sort of love was blessed love. Demons kept to mainly small time mischief and angels were usually there to thwart them, keeping the balance as to not upset any of the higher powers that were, and things were generally calm.

In fact, if it weren’t for the plants he supernaturally threatened into flourishing and the yellow and black eyes he hid behind the sunglasses, Crowley would feel human most days.

But tonight as he crossed the street to Azira’s bookstore clutching an over large bouquet of yellow and blue roses, Crowley was distinctly aware of the sunglasses over his eyes, the weight of his hidden wings on his back and the way his movements were just a hint too smooth to be natural.

Perhaps Azira would be too smitten to notice.

Oh he hoped so.

“Crowley!” Azira looked simply cherubic in a smart white suit and matching hat, burying his face in the roses and peeking up at Crowley with a shy sort of smile. “Roses! You shouldn’t have!”

“I absolutely should have.” Crowley replied flatly, as if his heart wasn’t practically pounding from his chest. Honestly a mortal had no business looking so sweet. “Do you like the blue?”

“I love it!” Azira dropped the blooms into a waiting vase. “I thought blue roses were all genetically engineered, though? You don’t strike me as the type to use altered flowers?”

“Ah. These are not genetically engineered. They are entirely natural. My secret, of course. That’s why the Queen loves them so.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The roses weren’t genetically engineered at all. An hour previous they had been lovely and pink and Crowley had glared with every shred of his fury until the petals had dipped a glorious shade of midnight blue that contrasted wonderfully with the yellow.

“I love it.” Azira said again, shrugging into his jacket. “Shall we away, then?”

“Shall we?” Crowley offered his arm to the blond. “Dinner awaits.”

******************

Dinner with Azira was perfect. The man was charming and sweet and hilarious in a well restrained sort of way, muffling his laughter into a napkin and sipping at his wine, eating each piece of sushi with the sort of joy Crowley had given up on feeling centuries ago.

They talked about Shakespeare, about Hamlet and about the hilarity of how certain plays had been misconstrued to mean something entirely different than the Bard had originally intended.

They chatted about their favorite music, Azira declaring anything written after the forties to be ‘be bop’ and terrible while Crowley waxed almost embarrassingly poetic about the raw truth in the lyrics of rock and roll, the way heartbreak and grief came through so clearly.

“Tell me how you came to be in the flower business.” Azira encouraged over a shared piece of cake called ‘Better than Sex’. “You’re so good at cultivating your plants, does it run in your family?”

“My earliest memories are in a garden.” Crowley said truthfully, and with no small amount of mirth. “I’m particularly partial to apple trees, if I’m being quite honest.”

“Which is why you frightened that poor woman half to death for letting hers be stripped so thoroughly?”

“Exactly.”

On the way back to their street Crowley asked, “Do you sell many books? I feel as if you just sort of hoard them, I never see anyone leaving with a package.”

“Oh.” Azira tipped his head back and smiled up at a flowering tree as they passed underneath. “I’m afraid I purchased the book shop simply so I could be surrounded by books. I have no intention of selling any ever. Too fond of them.”

Crowley burst into surprised laughter. “Honestly? You bought a book shop so you had a place to put all your books?”

“Well, I live above it as well.” Azira huffed. “It’s more that I bought a place to live that happened to have extra bookshelves.”

“Of course you did, angel.” Crowley’s smile was more fond than he meant it to be, the pet name slipping out before he noticed. They’d known each other nearly a year now, and it had been only the second visit when Azira had been framed in the window with sunlight filtering through his hair, ringed in a perfect halo and Crowley had-- embarrassingly enough-- shattered a planter pot on the floor he’d been so stunned at the thought of Azira being an actual angel.

He wasn’t an angel of course, and Crowley figured that out by the end of the day, but for a moment the man had been so stunning, so ethereal, so perfectly poised as if to take flight that angel had stuck firmly in Crowley’s mind--

--and now it had dropped into open conversation and it had been a long time since Crowley had been so flustered he full on reverted to snake form, but he could feel the scales slipping up his back, could feel his knees turn to jello and his eyes jerked towards an alley as they passed, wondering if it were an appropriate place to slither off to and--

“--angel, is it?” Azira bumped Crowley’s shoulder teasingly. “It’s the blond hair, isn’t it? I’ve been told I look terribly cherubic. Baby faced, even.”

“You’re lovely.” That hadn’t been meant to slip out either, but angel had gone over so well Crowley figured a compliment couldn’t hurt. “And cherubic doesn’t have to mean baby faced, all angels are fierce in their own right.”

“Well then, I suppose I won’t take any offense.” Azira paused in front of his bookshop. “Could I invite you up for a drink?”

Temptation, thick and familiar and well-- tempting, even if the drink was probably offered with nothing more than friendship in mind.

“I have to be up early with the plants.” Crowley said instead and Azira nodded in understanding. “Tonight was fun though.” it was easy to miracle a flower behind Azira’s back and offer it up with a smile that stretched to a grin when Azira took it with a pleased little gasp. “We should do it again. Tomorrow?”

“Dinner tomorrow?”

“If you’d like.”

“Oh.” Pink cheeks, and Crowley’s wings rustled in anticipation. “I’d like that. Very much.”

*****************

Dinner the next night went just as well as it had the first time around, and dinner the night after that was wonderful as well.

Then there were afternoons in the park, Crowley lounging on a blanket while Azira read poetry. Breakfasts of delicate crepes and rich coffee eaten on the rooftop cafe of fancy hotels. Music by the river, Azira insisting he didn’t dance and Crowley dragging him up onto the grass to sway the beat anyway.

For an entire month they met up every day for one reason or another, and every time Crowley came with flowers until the bookshop was nearly over flowing. He miracled blooms out of thin air to tuck into blonde hair, pressed them between the pages of books for Azira to find later, shut down the shop for no reason at all than to stroll down the street and hand over a carnation simply because he could.

Six thousand years and Crowley had never met anyone he’d wanted to see three--four--five days in a row but after a month of casual get togethers and romantic dates and long walks in the moonlight, Crowley had to admit that he was perhaps more than smitten with the book shop owner.

And then he called round for dinner on Saturday and Azira was ‘terribly sorry, but I’ve already made plans’ and stepped out with a tall man in a grey suit, dark hair and dark eyes and a booming sort of voice Crowley could hear even from down the street.

The next morning someone came by to pick up a few plants Her Majesty had ordered, and everything in Hell’s Bells Botanicals was withering away in their pots, leaves spotted and flowers wilted, vines limp and succulents dehydrated and a crankier than usual owner fallen dramatically onto the counter top, legs splayed and arms over his eyes, moaning loudly as if the very world were ending.

“Uh, Mr. Crowley, sir.” the customer asked timidly. “I’m here for the plants, the ones for Buckingham?”

“Fuck. Off.” Crowley muttered. “Right this moment or I’ll breathe hell fire and singe that stupid hairstyle right off your Botoxed forehead.”

“I--” the customer considered his options, thought about how much he liked his hair and wisely decided not to press the issue, letting himself out the front door, leaving the volatile owner to wallow in a black mood.

It was lunch time before the bell rang again and this time a cheerful, “Crowley, my dear?” had the demon falling right off the counter and scrambling to right himself, affecting as cool and casual a posture as he could in an attempt to not let Azira know exactly how long he’d been sulking.

“Ah. Azira.” Crowley snapped his fingers and growled something the human didn’t catch and every plant in the shop straightened and tried to green up again. “How are you?’

“Well enough, I suppose.” Azira looked extra cheerful today and it grated on Crowley’s nerves. “I was hoping you could sell me a potted plant today? I love the flowers, but I’d like to try my hand at actually growing something. Seeing as how you live so close, you could come over and help me water it and things, right?”

“Azira, you wound me. You only want me for my flowers?” Crowley’s hurt expression was only partly feigned. “And here I thought we were having so much fun with our dates! But then of course, you went out with someone else last night didn’t you?”

“Oh and about that as well.” Azira didn’t look guilty or embarrassed or even shy about it. “I’ve decided I’d much rather have dinner with you. I’m afraid Gabriel isn’t half as interesting as he thinks he is and I’m not exactly sure what his job is or where it takes him, but he’s only ever in London a few times a year and this was his first time visiting me at my new shop--” he waved his hand airily.

“Anyway, I thought if you weren’t busy tonight, perhaps you’d come over? I could cook for you! I bought a lovely bottle of wine and we could listen to old records and maybe just sit together?”

“Oooh sitting together.” Crowley didn’t mean to sound so snarky, or perhaps he did, but he was still a little irritated at being stood up-- even if they hadn’t had an official date-- for some one named Gabriel. He’d never met a Gabriel he liked and he was sure this fellow would be no different. “Moving awfully fast, aren’t we? Did you and your gentleman caller sit together last night?”

“If you’re going to act like that, consider yourself uninvited.” Azira informed him with a sniff, and Crowley gaped at the human for a full minute. “I had every intention of kissing you tonight but if you’re going to be rude, maybe I won’t.”

“You’d hold your kisses hostage!” Crowley was very nearly outraged at the thought. “Angel, how can you be so cruel!”

“Well they’re my kisses to withhold.” Azira was nearly laughing and Crowley relaxed. “Bring me blue roses again and I’ll forgive your little fit. Don’t be so jealous, love. It’s a terrible color on you.”

“All colors are good on me.” the vines behind Crowley’s head grew an inch or so when the censure left his voice. “And I’ll bring you blue roses.”

“Leave the sunglasses here, maybe?” Azira asked hopefully. “We’ve known each other for a year and have been out for dates for weeks now and I’ve yet to even see your eyes.”

“Ah.” Crowley hesitated. “My eyes are... well they aren’t entirely... you see the thing is--”

“Tell me tonight.” Azira blew him a kiss that had no business making Crowley smile so big. “Come hungry, yes?”

******************

“You weren’t really jealous of Gabriel, were you?” Azira asked after a delicious dinner and custardy dessert and a bottle and most of another bottle of wine. “Not really, I mean.”

“I suppose I wasss a little.” Crowley admitted, letting the wine roll rich around his tongue. “Stupid of me, really. We’ve been seeing each other for a month and I’ve been acting like we’ve been going together for years. Ugly thing, jealousy.”

“Sort of flattering.” Azira said hesitantly. “In certain circumstances and in the right doses, maybe.”

“Maybe.” Crowley plucked one of the blue roses he’d brought over off the side table and held it to his nose. “But I’m sorry all the same. For being obnoxious, I mean. Not for being jealous. Can’t help that, sort of comes with the territory.”

“And what territory is that?” Azira asked, tucking himself into the corner of the couch Crowley hadn’t taken over with his long legged sprawl. “Hm?”

“Oh you know.” Crowley was drunk and half past caring, ready to share his secrets with his angel just for the sake of saying it out loud. “Angels get to be all pure and patient. We are supposed to be jealous and ill tempered. I enjoy it for the most part, shouldn’t really complain but--”

“Angels.” Azira repeated. “You mean wings and halos and all that?”

“You... are not as surprised as you should be.” Crowley said slowly and Azira replied, “Yes well, I’m very drunk. Nothing’s very shocking right now. Besides, it people can believe in aliens and the earth being flat, it’s not much of a reach for me to believe in angels--”

“--and demons.” Crowley finished, and whipped off his glasses with a flourish, baring his snake eyes. “Not much of a reach at all.”

“Look at that.” Azira’s eyes went comically wide. “My goodness. My goodness. My good--”

“Say something else besides that.” Crowley demanded, the rose crushing in his fingers as he clenched his fist anxiously. “And if you’re too upset about it all, I can make it so you don’t remember tomorrow, erase all of this last month if you want. We can go right back to you buying flowers from me once a--”

“Hell’s Bells!” Azira blurted then, and Crowley frowned.

“What?”

“Hell’s Bells!” he said again, clapping his hands as laughter bubbled up and over. “Oh god, a demon running a flower shop and calling it Hell’s Bells! Is it after the song or that awful flower or some sort of mix of the two?”

“I--” Crowley narrowed his eyes. “A mix of the two, thought it would be clever.”

“Very clever.” Azira toasted him and then refilled the glass. “More wine, my dear?”

“You’re far too drunk to process what’s happening.” Crowley decided. “Which means there will be no kissing tonight either. I’ll go home and let you sober up and if you want to talk in the morning--”

“Hell’s Bells.” Azira was still chuckling over it. “No wonder your plants grow so well. Put the fear of god into them, didn’t you? Or the fear of Satan? The fear of some higher power, right? Is that why you have the best plants in all of London?”

“You really are sloshed, aren’t you?” A long suffering sort of sigh because while Crowley really had been looking forward to a kiss tonight, he was sort of relieved to have another chance to have this conversation sober.

Announcing that he was less than mortal usually involved a lengthy explanation if the person bothered to stick around, at least a hundred mostly moronic and fairly invasive questions and seeing as how it had been over a hundred years since the last time Crowley had even attempted this sort of talk, he had to imagine now there would be hours and hours of research on the internet as well.

He wasn’t looking forward to any of that, but at least if Azira was sober Crowley would have the chance to explain and properly gauge his--

“Did you magic up blue flowers for me because I love them?” Azira whispered and Crowley nodded. “And make sure my blooms lasted an entire month?”

“...I did.”

“And only two weeks this last time so you had an excuse to ask me for dinner?”

“...yes?”

“Adorable.” Azira leaned back into the cushions and closed his eyes, a peaceful smile on his face. “Simply ador...demon making blue flowers...so sweet...”

Crowley left him sleeping there on the couch, a blanket pulled up to his shoulders and wine put away. “Goodnight, angel.” he whispered, and pointed sternly at the blue roses. “Be beautiful for him, or so help me Satan I will pull your thorns off one by one, don’t think I wont.”

The bookshop door closed behind the demon, and the blue roses quivered in terror.

**********************

Morning dawned bright and early and Crowley came downstairs from his flat to open the shop only to find Azira already standing outside, tapping on the glass eagerly.

“What are you doing here so early?” Crowley kept the closed sign on the door and ushered Azira in. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Let me see.” Azira demanded, motioning to Crowley’s sunglasses. “I have to know I wasn’t dreaming.”

“...alright.” The moment of truth, the moment where Crowley knew if Azira really was alright with all of it, or if he and his plants were going to be alone for another millenia.

Azira gasped when he saw the yellow and black eyes, but then he let out a very undignified snort of laughter and asked, “So do the other demon’s think it’s funny or cheesy you call this place Hell’s Bells?”

“I don’t make a habit of talking to the others.” Crowley set his glasses down slowly. “Got tired of them after a few thousand years. Are you really alright with this?”

“Gabriel’s not human.” Azira informed him then. “He refers to himself as a celestial being and we met quite by accident almost ten years ago. He’s the one who got me most of my older books but there’s nothing romantic there, I can assure you. He’s pompous and arrogant and sort of an asshole, if I’m being honest. Anyway not half as fun as you are. Plus--” and here Azira looked hilariously offended. “--he makes fun of me for eating sushi and likes to brag that he doesn’t need to eat so he doesn’t bother. How that is bragging, I’ll never know, but we have drinks every few months or so and he usually brings me a new book.”

“The archangel Gabriel has drinks with you every few months.” Crowley repeated. “And you think he’s an asshole?”

“Yes.” Azira nodded. “Quite. Anyway, I’m used to having a supernatural being hanging around, must be why I’m so comfortable around you.”

“Being friends with an archangel is very different than having dinner with a demon.” he pointed out. “Very different.”

“It’s certainly more fun.” Azira countered. “And you’re much more handsome than he is. Though knowing you’re not quite human sure explains why you walk that way. All distracting and hip swinging?”

“That hassss nothing to do with me being not quite human.” Crowley teased, and Azira turned bright red. “And I’d never make fun of you for eating sushi.”

“I know you wouldn’t.” Azira took a hesitant step forward, then another even closer. “And I’d still like to kiss you, if that’s quite alright. Unless you don’t do that sort of thing with people like me--OH!”

He startled when Crowley snatched him up tight and crushed a less than chaste kiss to his mouth, both arms wrapping around his waist, a tongue that felt maybe a hint longer than normal playing at his lips, the demon practically glommed onto his body for several minutes until Azira had to pinch at his side and remind Crowley, “Some of us have to breathe, you know!”

But it was hard to be irritated about things like losing oxygen when Crowley finally let him up for air and Azira noticed the vines climbing the walls, the flowers budding and then blooming one after another, and sunflowers turning to bask in the glow of their affection.

And swirling in gentle circles above their heads, dozens and dozens of rose petals in different shades of blue, brushing over Azira’s cheek and landing in Crowley’s hair.

“Oh my.” Azira’s eyes lit up. “Just lovely.”

“Just lovely.” Crowley repeated, kissing him one more time. “Angel.”

*****************

But lately things had changed at the shop just enough to encourage even more customers through the door. Now when Crowley took an irresponsible plant owner to task, the book shop owner from down the street was usually perched on the counter behind him, countering every harsh word with something encouraging and light hearted.

The plants still trembled in fear of Crowley’s wrath, but they also shivered in delight as Azira came along behind his boyfriend and soothed them with gentle pats at their leaves and encouraging words to the flowers.

When Crowley fussed and fumed and hissed through his words, Azira coaxed his wings into view and set about smoothing the ruffled feathers until Crowley wasn’t quite as fangy or scaley.

And the next time Gabriel came to town, he was greeted at the door to the bookshop by one very delighted demon who shoved a bouquet of black roses into his arms, flipped him off with no small amount of glee, and shut the door in his face.

Azira laughed at least once a day over the name of the shop, changed his phone ringtone to ‘Hell’s Bells’ by AC/DC though he loathed the sound of it and accused Crowley of liking the terrible bebop just to be obnoxious.

“I’d never, angel.” Crowley swore, and then conjured up a blue rose to boop his love on the nose. “I might have helped them write the song though.”

“Oh for heavens--”

“--hell’s.” Crowley corrected.

“--for someone’s sake.” Azira finished and Crowley kissed him just because he could.

********************

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#ncts fics #good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #flower shop au

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glitchedbones-blog · 6 years

Text

The Boots Are to Blame

Raul Tejada X Courier (OFC)

Warnings: Lots of swearing.

The courier realizes she has the hots for ghoul(s). Namely the sarcastic, fantastic Raul.

Apparently, she had a thing for ghouls, which certainly wasn’t a thing she expected to discover when she laced up her boots that morning. Jackal found herself staring at the cracked mirror for far longer than was probably healthy, but shit she had no idea what to do with her new little discovery.

It had started simple, really. She heard him over the radio with that insane Nightkin and well she wasn��t that far away. And Jackal found she had a very nasty savior streak and had to just help every fuckhead she came across, like it or not. So she trekked up a mountain full of radiation and super mutants and found herself face to face with a very snarky ass ghoul.

Halfway down the mountain, she wondered if it would be better to shot him and leave him where she found him, by the time they hit bottom she was laughing her ass off at every sarcastic quip he made. And really, she could get used to Raul calling her boss in that accent. Real used to it.

It spiraled out of control from there, really.

And now here she was, getting dressed and thinking about Raul when it hit her like a mini nuke. She had a thing for ghouls. Or, well, one ghoul. And how the hell is she gonna face him without making herself look like a damned idiot now?

“Boss? You die in there, cause as much as I would like to go piss on a cactus, I am pretty sure there is a few angry cazador still outside.”

Shit. The nest of cazador. That still needed to be dealt with. She swallowed her nerves and maybe a few mentats and opened the door, giving Raul a smile that was way too toothy.

“Boss? How much Jet have you taken?”

“None.” Jackal snapped, her smile falling. She pushed past him and boy was that a bad idea, cause suddenly she really, really wanted to just grab him and...Jackal cut down that thought as quick as she could. “Go old man and let’s go kill some fucking bugs.” She didn’t want to sound as pissed as she did, but shit, how was she supposed to deal with this? At this early of an hour?

Raul managed to give her one cold look before taking care of his business in the bathroom while she grabbed her beloved gauss rifle and made sure her baby was tip top.

The rough hand on her shoulder was a surprise and she figured she probably should have put on something with long sleeves.

“Boss, what kind of radroach crawled up your ass?”

Jackal did laugh at that. She turned, managed to somewhat glare at him before sinking down into herself, letting the rifle sag in her hands. “I had an epiphany last night and I don’t know how to deal with that right now. So I am a bit snappy. Sorry, I’ll get over it. Maybe. After we shoot a bunch of stupid bugs in the face.”

Raul leaned next to her and cocked his head. “Ya know, boss, I don’t mind lending an ear. Well if I still had ‘em.” Jackal snorted. “Hey, you helped me with my thing.” He motioned to the Vaquero outfit draped over a chair. “So it’s only fair I help you. So what’s eating you? Other than radiation?”

Jackal sighed and glared at her boots. “It is really damn stupid, Raul, and I honestly know it’s probably a bad fucking idea because of who and what is involved and I am kind of scared.”

Raul looked real incredulous. “Right, boss. And who or what has the woman who told a deathclaw to fuck off this scared.”

Jackal shrugged. “Hey, that bastard was trying to steal my snack cakes and you know how I get with those.”

Raul laughed. “Oh yeah, you nearly shot Gannon when he ate your last one. Lucky you had me, eh boss? I always have backups.”

Jackal tilted her head back to look up at Raul. “Yeah, that’s why this uh...Issue scares me. It kinda involves you.”

Raul looked shocked and circled around to stand in front of her, crossing his arms over his chest. “Me? How does it involve me, boss? Don’t tell me you are getting tired of hauling my old ass around?” Jackal didn’t miss the thinly veiled hurt in his voice.

She shook her head. “Shit no, Raul. Way opposite. I want your ass around me all the time until one or both of us finally die.”

Raul blinked. “You are gonna have to spell this out for me, boss. My mind doesn’t work so fast anymore.”

Jackal rolled her eyes and kicked his foot. “It’s been a problem for a while, but it really hit last night. When that cazador nearly ate your face off. I realized I would be fucked without you and that I uh...” Jackal slapped her knees and stood suddenly, throwing Raul off balance with how close she was. “I apparently have a thing for ghouls. A ghoul. Named Raul. You. I have it bad for you, old man.”

Raul didn’t move, didn’t blink, just stared. “Boss, how much jet have you taken?”

“None you ass. You know I don’t touch jet unless we are gonna die. I am not high, I am not hallucinating due to cazador venom. I am of sound mind...I am of as sound of mind as I can possibly be and I am kind of in love with you, ya ass.”

Raul swallowed thickly. “I’m a ghoul, boss. People aren’t gonna take well to the wastelands hero knocking boots with a corpse.”

Jackal shrugged. “They can go fuck themselves. Or deal with Lily.” She tilted her head up and licked her lips. “So Raul Tejada, what are you going to do? You got the savior of the wasteland at your fingertips.”

Raul cupped her face in his hands and leaned down. “I’m going to hell for this.”

Jackal chuckled, breath dancing over his torn lips. “Well save me a seat, will ya.” Raul rolled his eyes and kissed the life out of her. She arched into him, fingers curling over the rough skin of his shoulder and groaning into the deepening kiss. When they finally broke away, chests heaving, eyes dilated, Jackal grinned.

“Good god, Raul. You been hiding that skill all this time?”

Raul preened. “I got all kind of talent, boss.”

Her eyes flicked to the couch and she gave him a wolfish grin. “The bugs can wait. I wanna see this talent.”

#fallout: nv fanfic #raul tejada #raul fallout: nv #raul x ofc #raul x courier

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plagueofsquid · 7 years

Note

GYJO 💕💕💕

Yes! That is the correct answer!

When I started shipping it

You know that bit in the beginning of SBR where Johnny gets shot with cactus spikes and tells Gyro to leave him, but Gyro instead refuses to abandon him and fights the guy who did it? Yeah, that’s when I started.

My thoughts

It’s my OTP. I feel like I was destined to love this ship, since they’re very similar to a couple from an original story I’ve been working on for a while (like really weirdly similar). Plus, my love for sad boys is well-documented.

What makes me happy about them?

I love the fact that they’re both such messed up people. Seriously GyJo is like the best ship for hurt/comfort ever, both of them have serious issues and protect each other all the time. I also love that they’re both really competent in a fight. With couples that protect each other a lot, it tends to be very one-sided. Like one person needs rescuing and the other is always there to do it. GyJo trades off the roles pretty regularly. It’s neat, especially for a m/m ship, which are often subject to one guy being clearly weaker.

What makes me sad about them?

Can I just say the ending of SBR? Because of course that makes me sad. Anything about post-SBR Johnny missing Gyro is fucking tragic. Also, unrequited GyJo on either side, especially when the canon ending is involved. I love it but it also hurts so much.

Things done in art/fic that annoy me

So I totally chose this meme specifically for this question. I’ll talk shit about fandom portrayals of characters and ships all day if you let me. With GyJo, I’ve made a couple of text posts about the stuff I don’t like, but I’ll summarize it here.

Johnny is a badass. He is the JoJo of Part 7 and by the end, he’s probably the second most powerful protagonist in the series. Yes, he’s disabled and looks feminine and cries a lot, but that’s no reason to write him as weak. He doesn’t need Gyro’s help. Maybe he would appreciate it at times, but he doesn’t need it. A lot of artists on Pixiv draw Johnny smiling and it’s like have you read SBR, he smiles less than Jotaro. Also, Johnny is a mean little shit and he will fight you. And you will probably lose.

Gyro doesn’t usually get as much characterization as Johnny does in fics. People write him as kind and friendly, but he’s really only that way when he’s interacting with Johnny. Most of the time, he’s pretty rude to other people and doesn’t seem to have very good social skills, which would make sense given his backstory. The man can’t get along with Lucy Steel, the closest JoJo has to an actual angel on Earth.

Things I look for in art/fic

First of all, characterization. They’re such interesting characters and it’s a shame if people write them as a generic slash ship. You know the sort of template fics I’m talking about. But those are bad for any ship. For GyJo, I’m a big fan of strong characterization for Gyro, snarky writing for Johnny, of course hurt/comfort, and interesting aus. Not so much modern au.

Who I’d be comfortable with them ending up with, if not each other

Honestly, I’ve proven myself capable of shipping Johnny with anyone. As for endgame, I really like him with Diego or Rina. I just want my boy to be happy. Gyro/HP is solid, but I don’t really actively ship him with anyone other than Johnny.

My happily ever after for them

Of course I have to say the classic everybody lives, Gyro takes Johnny back to Naples with him and everything is perfect. I really like how sad the canon ending is, but we all want them to be together forever. They’d be good dads, too. At least Johnny would.

What is their favorite non-sexual activity?

These two boys just love hanging out together. Like it doesn’t even matter what they’re doing, they just want to be in the same room and chat. They really enjoy each other’s company and that’s such a great thing to build a relationship off of.

#ask #jjba #gyjo #fififrog #thanks for the ask!

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jooheonies · 7 years

Text

SinglesMingle.com

Character(s): Reader X Changkyun, bestfriend!jooheon

Genre: fluff, borderline!crack

Warning(s): scientist!changkyun (is that a warning), online dating, bad humor

Length: 3.2k

Summary: In which your best friend sets you up for an online dating site and maybe it’s not so bad when you meet a scientist by the name of Lim Changkyun.

There’s a reason you don’t let Jooheon touch your laptop. Aside from the porn sites (and the numerous viruses acquired from them) he’s not to be trusted alone. You’ve known this since the third grade when he came over for a playdate and ended up drinking a bottle of Elmer’s glue while you went to the bathroom because he was too shy to ask for water.

He can’t be trusted.

So when he comes over a lazy Sunday morning and props his feet up your coffee, pressing his fingertips together as a slow smile stretches across his face, you know something must be up.

“You did WHAT?” You scream, the mug of tea in your hands slipping through unsteady fingers and dripping onto your clean rug. Not that you even notice, what with how much your eye is twitching and your fists are clenching, because goddamnit Lee Jooheon is not to be trusted.

“I signed you up,” he breathes, eyes sparkling with excitement, “for a dating site!” He claps gleefully as he finishes his sentence, dimples deep and smile wide.

You rake your hand through your hair in frustration, eyebrows snapping together. “Why would you do–”

“Because you’re turning into one of those old cat ladies, but with dogs,” Jooheon explains, smile still wide, “and it’s turning you into a real meanie so I think you should get out there.” He furrows his eyebrows for a second and rubs his chin. “Get laid,” he adds as an afterthought.

You glare at him, teeth gritted. “I am perfectly fine being single.”

“Maybe you should try to mingle,” he replies, eyebrows waggling.

Jooheon pulls out his phone, clicking through the fifty tabs he has pulled up on his internet browser.

“So I was looking up porn on your laptop when I came over last week–”

“I told you to stop doing that!”

“–and I saw all the pictures of your dogs that you have saved as your wallpaper and I realized you live a sad, sad life–”

“It’s not sad! I like my dogs!”

Jooheon stops talking, rolling his eyes and shooting you an incredulous look.

“You named one of them Doggo.”

“It’s a good name!”

He wrinkles his nose and drops his phone onto the sofa, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s a dog and you named it Doggo and you named the other Pupper.”

“Get out of my house.”

Jooheon cackles and scooches closer, nuzzling into your arm, phone back in his grip. “You love me. Moving on, I made an account for you and you’re going to fill your profile in with me or I’m setting you up with Son Hyunwoo from Human Resources.”

You groan, head tipping back to rest on the back of your sofa. Son Hyunwoo is . . . interesting. He once thought the fire alarm in the break room was broken so he set the Hoseok’s cactus on fire to test it. It resulted in the entire office having to deal with a forced evacuation and coming back to the smell of burning cactus and smoke that continues to linger in the air seven months later.

Hoseok held a funeral in the parking lot and cried for two months over the loss, and to this day, he still sniffles every time he sees the corner it used to sit in. Hyunwoo is interesting.

“I’m not going to date Hyunwoo,” you groan, picking at your nails.

“Then let’s get your profile going!” He exclaims, doing a little jig where he sits.

“No, you can’t make me–”

“I used your credit card.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, anger flaring. “You what? How did you even get that?”

Jooheon scuttles to the other end of the couch, hands raised defensively and tosses his phone towards you.

“Woah, man, I’m just trying to help my best friend get laid.”

“Yeah, and you might die before you get to see it happen.”

“Look,” he sighs, grimacing a little as he tries to force a smile on his face, “I think it would help if you just loosened up a bit–”

“Get. Out.” You fling the phone back at him and stand. “I’m cancelling the account so get out, loser. I never want to see you again.”

Jooheon groans and stands, brushing imaginary crumbs off his pants. “You haven’t heard the last of this,” he says, pointing a finger at your face. And with that, he stalks out the door, whistling and swinging his hips.

Unfortunately, it turns out that Jooheon was more or less right. Monday night finds you sitting cross legged on your bed, scrolling through the dating website, singlesmingle.com of all names. You had originally logged on to figure out how to cancel an account but two little pings echo in your silent room when you sign in and it peaks your interest.

The little message box in the corner has a little red bubble in the corner and you wrestle with the decision of clicking on it for a good five minutes before you cave. When you open the page, two users pop up.

Your options are limited to science_is_my_kokoro and hamsta-luv.

The next three minutes are spent with you wondering what kind of fucking website Lee Jooheon signed you up for.

The first message, from hamsta-luv, is creepy, for lack of a better word. It consists of a single smiley face and a tongue emoji. You slowly click the block button next to his username.

The second message is decidedly less creepy, a simple ‘sup’, from science_is_my_kokoro. When you click on his user name, it redirects to his profile page and your eyes flit over his bio as you hunt for a picture, clicking on the read more tab.

His profile picture pops up and for a second you stop breathing and the room starts spinning because good lord this man is gorgeous.

He’s wearing a white lab coat, round glasses perched low on the bride of his nose as he flashes a tight smile at someone behind the camera, dimples deep and eyes sparkling. Your breath hitches as you scroll through his photo album, lips curving into a smile when you find a picture of him cuddling a golden retriever and another one of him sitting in a park, legs wrapped around a tree. You find yourself shaking your head, staring at his photos for who knows how long because what is someone this attractive doing on a dating website and why is he talking to you of all people. It takes a good ten minutes before you can finally calm your heart rate, clicking on the back button and searching for his profile.

This time you properly read his bio, searching for any signs that he may be one of those creepy men you hear about in the news.

I am what I.M, bro. You and I, we fit together like the sticky ends of recombinant DNA. Interests: science, dogs, dog videos, the periodic table of elements.

It’s childish but cute and you can’t help the spark of curiosity that blooms in your chest, prompts you to wonder too many ‘what if’ scenarios. What if he’s not a creepy stalker and what if he really likes your dogs and what if he lets you poke his dimples and–

You inhale shakily and click on his name again, slowly typing out ‘hi’ into the message box. Your eyes read over the message eighteen times to make sure you haven’t somehow misspelled it and you click send, wincing when a whoosh sounds from your laptop.

And then you wait, fingers drumming nervously on your laptop. As you wait, you go to your own profile. What you find there nearly has you flinging your laptop at the wall, already prepared to hunt down Jooheon and strangle him, because what kind of friend does this.

Henlo~ I’m h0t trust me date me im mean 2 my frendos but not 2 my luhvurs Interests: eating, sleeping, hitting people (even my super sweet best friend), and doggos

The profile picture he has set is of the one your mom took of you during halloween in the seventh grade and you’re wearing a giant pumpkin costume with a green stem on your head, braces flashing unattractively in the camera.

Lee Jooheon is not to be trusted.

You’ve spent the last few minutes, kicking at your sheets in frustration and clawing out your hair because you’re doomed there’s no way this cute boy is going to think you’re normal and now you’ll never know–

A loud ping! sounds from your laptop and you nearly fall off the bed as you scramble, squinting at the screen and clicking on the notification above the messages.

From: science_is_my_kokoro

What’s up?

You choke.

Jooheon barges into your apartment the next evening, swinging a bag of beer in his hand and yelling something about ‘best friends night!’ You wave your hand dismissively at him as you continue clacking away at your laptop.

Turns out, science_is_my_kokoro is a cute laboratory geneticist who’s also been roped into this website by a friend and goes by the name of Changkyun. You spent all last night talking to him, first polite and stiff, but as the night wore on, he grew more and more relaxed, eventually spamming you with nine smileys and messages with very poor grammar.

Your conversations consisted of random topics, mostly dogs at first. Changkyun sent you three dog videos and you sent him pictures of Pupper and Doggo. He didn’t hesitate to immediately tease you over the name choice, snarky comments and sassy jokes, but you find that it doesn’t annoy you as much when he does it.

“Hey!” Jooheon whines, poking your shoulder and pouting. “Why’re you ignoring me?”

“Wait. I’m doing something.”

He props his chin up on your shoulder, tilting his head to eye the screen, and out of the corner of your eye you watch as his mouth drops open, a gasp slipping past his lips.

“YOU’RE USING IT? YOU’RE ACTUALLY USING IT?” He asks, voice too loud in your apartment as he lifts his head off your shoulder.

You turn your head slowly to glare at him, hissing, “Why are you screaming? Are you trying to make sure I wind up with a noise complaint?”

Jooheon recoils, clearing his throat, “Right. Sorry. But you’re actually using it!” He squeals the last sentence, body writhing in some strange rendition of a happy dance.

You roll your eyes and look back down at your laptop, lips curving into a smile when Changkyun sends you another message, something about having to study beetles for work.

Jooheon hooks his chin on the screen of your laptop and pouts. “Stop ignoring me. I’m your best friend.”

“Fuck off,” you respond, not bothering to look up at him as you blindly reach over to crack open a can of beer, patting the space next to you and handing him the tv remote. It takes a few more pokes from him for you to close your laptop and finally stop messaging Changkyun.

A week later, you both exchange phone numbers, because lugging around you laptop to talk whenever you’re out off the house is annoying, especially since it requires you hunting down a place with wifi and hogging it just so you can exchange a few words with him. He’s cute, texts you random things during the day, pictures of things that reminded him of you and questions about what kind of cereal he should buy.

You both stay up late nights, rolling around bed and sending each other cheesy texts and sometimes Jooheon comes over with beer and offers to set you up with Hyunwoo because you still haven’t met up with Changkyun.

“I just–” he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face and taking a swig from his can of beer, “I just want you to get laid already, man.”

“Yes, thank you very much Jooheon.” But also you agree, because Changkyun has really nice hands and lips and sometimes he sends you selfies and you can see his dimples and–

You might be in over your head.

In three months, locations are exchanged and, as fate would have it, it turns out you both live in the same city, nearly in the same area. He tells you of a cafe three blocks away, one that has a park next to it that he likes to take his dogs to and you both decide to meet up for coffee.

It’s just coffee.

But then he goes to sleep and a funny sort of panic settles in your gut and you spend the next hour rifling through your closet in search of an outfit. You wind up sitting in a pile of skirts and flowy blouses, frantic thoughts rushing through your mind because what if he doesn’t like you or thinks you aren’t cute or he’s actually a fifty year old pervert who lives in his parents’ basement.

It’s how Jooheon finds you in the morning, curled up in a heap of clothes at the foot of your bed.

“How adorable,” he chimes, clapping his hands, “my sweet little bumblebee all grown up and ready to go out and get laid!”

“I can’t meet him!” You wail, “He’s never gonna like me!”

Jooheon rolls his eyes and pushes you into the bathroom. “You’re going.”

“But–”

“You’re going.”

And that’s how you end up standing outside the cafe in an itchy pink skirt and a loose white blouse. You clear your throat, steeling your nerves as you walk through the door, and you’re not exactly sure what you’re expecting, but the man with the familiar dimples sitting three tables down in a blue button up and black jeans is damn cute and he’s smiling at you and oh god–

“Ch–Changkyun,” you squeak, awkwardly waving as you stumble towards the table.

“Hey,” he responds, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he stands, nearly knocking over the kid standing behind him. He apologizes profusely to both the kid and her mother, who both send him irritated glares before stalking out the cafe. “You look nicer than that picture of you in your profile,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and smiling.

You laugh, sliding into the seat across from him, “I would hope so, I was only twelve in that picture.” Stupid fucking dating website that won’t let you change your primary profile picture.

“It was cute,” he snickers, propping his chin up in his palm, elbow resting on the table. “I ordered us a vanilla milkshake because I’m pretty sure out said it’s you favorite.”

That was back when you were both first talking, about three months ago.

He hums, turning his head to look at the counter like it isn’t a big deal (it is).

“Do you remember mine?” He prompts shifting his gaze back to you and tilting his head.

“Strawberry shortcake,” you respond without hesitation, fingers coming up to splay across the table top.

He grins and you nearly keel over at the sight of his dimples. “Correct, m’lady!”

When the milkshake shows up, you’re surprised to see there’s only one on the tray.

“You didn’t order one?” You ask, eyebrows scrunched together.

“I did,” he replies with a grin, sticking two straws into the glass. He shoots finger guns at you and winks.

Oh.

You can’t tell if this is moving fast, but when he pushes the glass towards you, eyebrows raised, you find that you really don’t care.

So you lean forward, lips closing around the straw, and reenact all the cheesy summer teen movies you’ve seen, starry eyed and coquettish.

He leans forward, too, and he’s so close you forget exactly how to drink and he smells woodsy, with hints of sugar, like warm naps and fireplaces.

“I’ve wanted to try something,” he announces when you both leans back in your seats.

“What?”

“The woes of onlines dating do not allow me to do so” he sighs mournfully, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Whatever,” he says, jaw setting in determination, “I’m doing it.”

You’ve never been more confused.

“You’ve got a little something there,” he says, pointing at your upper lip. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion because you’ve been drinking from a straw and there’s no way there something on your face.

Changkyun fixes his gaze on you and licks his thumb, leaning over the table to swipe it across your upper lip. You shoot him a bewildered look pulling your head back in confusion.

“What are you doing?” You ask. “We’re using straws, Changkyun, there’s nothing on my face.”

His cool expression melts into a pout and he whines, voice lilting, “Just–okay? I haven’t been able to do anything cutesy because we met online and all I can do is send you memes and hope you laugh!”

Your head tilts back and you laugh, nervousness melting away as Changkyun brings a sense of comfort, of familiarity. He cracks a smile and tries to intertwine your fingers on the table because he ‘saw it in a drama once and it’s cute!’ but you only double over in laughter.

You both leave the cafe ten minutes later because he has a new shipment of beetles coming in and you have filing to get to, but he walks you back home and little butterflies flap in your stomach.

“So,” he says, standing in front of your apartment building, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I enjoyed this.”

“So did I,” you reply, fingers clutching the strap of your purse and you hiccup when he takes a step forward breath fanning over your lips. “Y’know I don’t usually kiss people on the first date.”

He takes step back and furrows his brows. “Oh.”

“But in this case,” you continue, a small smile blooming across your face, “I think I’m willing to make an exception.”

He grins and steps forward again, but this time there’s uncertainty behind his eyes, like he’s scared of doing something wrong.

You both stare at each other for what seems like eternity before his jaw sets in determination and he blurts out, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

You haven’t dated in a while, but you’re pretty sure that’s a fairly unromantic thing to say. It doesn’t matter, though, because when he leans forward and presses his lips to yours, you find that you quite enjoy this feeling. Changkyun’s hands press against the small of your back, drawing you closer and you wrap your arms over his shoulders, fingers playing at the little hairs on the nape of his neck. He tastes like evening walks at the park and fireworks on the river and everything fades into the background as he tilts his head, lips moving softly over yours.

His lips feel better than they look, you note mindlessly, tracing the back of his neck with your fingers.

“So,” he breathes when you both pull apart, pressing his forehead against yours, “are we dating now?”

You gurgle back a mess of cracked syllables and broken words and nod, pulling him in for a second kiss because Lim Changkyun makes butterflies flutter in your stomach and makes your breath hitch.

So maybe, just maybe, you can learn to trust Jooheon a little bit.

A/N: 4am drabbles w nawar i wrote this in 2 hours and hAVE NO REGRETS yes i do what was this i used to write crack does it show

Masterlist

#monsta x #mxnetwork #mxwriters #changkyun #lim changkyun #i.m #monsta x scenarios #monsta x fluff #changkyun scenarios #changkyun fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff

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jihyunkm · 7 years

Text

me, 5:30am: wakes up me: wow i love jihyun and how he’s so philosophical probably leading into points of pretentiousness and how he’s lowkey a snarky shite who makes great sly digs and how he talks in a charming n teasing tone that definitely makes people swoon and that he’s always trying his best no matter if he succeeds or fails and it’s just incredibly endearing that he loves photography and cactus and wine and he enjoys jigsaw puzzles even blanks ones from time to time and i will stop there but Wow I Love That Man With My Whole Heart,

#jihyun kim #v.txt

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pinksweatergettingbetter · 7 years

Text

warning, the following has mainly snarky (and possibly furious) opinions on Spirit of Justice. Reader discretion is advised.

alright... here we go. we’re starting the big one. this... thing is almost over.

we’re going back to........ kooraheen to finish this.

time to strap in for the long haul.

did Dhurke hijack the PP show or was he just watching it and he decided to make that speech at his TV

i honestly can’t tell because of the weird way the scene was set. it looks like a reflection from a TV screen, but it also fades like a broadcast being intercepted...

fuck I'm just distracted by Dhurke’s stupid voice. and uncomfortable at the actress playing Rayfa. imagine being the princess and having your favourite show turn you into a weird damsel in distress being manhandled by ninjas. gross.

also yay! they’ve got the indiana jones orb!! time to melt off some faces...

ok it was a hijacked show... ...why is there a news report on this in America? Are American troupes assisting in the Kooraheenese war?

“Daaaa-aaaad. What’re you up to thiiiiis time???”

i love how not-giving-a-shit-about-it apollo is here. and by love it i mean hate it.

oh, your long-lost adoptive father just happens to pop up on television starting a revolution, and this is the first time you’ve heard from him in like 20 years? huh, no big deal.

AND ACE ATTORNEY TURNS INTO THE JERRY SPRINGER SHOW

oh noooo... he’s one of THESE guys... ururughhhhghghgh

“Wait... don’t tell me you haven’t told anyone about me, son?”

“I’m sorry, dad, it’s just you didn’t exist up until now...”

“you just show up here without warning after all this time... what gives?”

apollo’s got a point there, pa. also Dhurke’s theme reminds me of Coach Oleander’s from Psychonauts

Apollo just instinctively knows that nobody wants to be around him unless they’re getting labour out of him. That’s... honestly really depressing. I mean I know it’s supposed to be a joke but I just can’t bring myself to laugh.

its just... apollo is legitimately so bitter and sad that i just feel awful for him.

yeesh... this whole thing just started off super sour.

wait, the piano has sentimental value to phoenix? they mentioned he never practiced on it and he didn’t like being a piano player... does that mean this piano is something phoenix just happened to own, and has its own backstory? I WANNA KNOW

(snerk)

ok thats mean but it did make me laugh

the JACKET IS APOLLO’S

IT IS APOLLO’S

HOLY SHIT

the rest of this case can be total shit but at least we figured out the mystery of the discarded red jacket.

“our houseplant was called apollo”

“was it a cactus?”

“How’d you guess?”

“cause apollo doesn’t get enough hugs, either!”

apollos dad is so cool he reads his son’s personal shit out loud. what a great guy!

“That’s too bad! You seem like you’d be a fun, cool guy to hang out with!”

when he wasn’t being a rebel and not having time for his kids, obviously.

THERE IT IS!

siblings dont know theyre siblings joke is funny both normally and ironically because the writers need to FUCKIN GET ON THAT

also i love that he’s basically like “hey son, this girl doesn't resent me! you should marry her so that i can continue to get favours out of you!”

“What did Mr. Dhurke mean when he said he was the man who raised you, apollo?” i dunno, trucy... think with your mind brains...

“How come you never told me?!”

“Sorry, it’s just, capcom hadn’t butchered my backstory at that point yet.”

I honestly find it really weird that Trucy’s all chirpy about this. She of all people should know the sting of a dad just up and disappearing on you.

Dhurke: I have to steal this orb. I’m asking you two because youre lawyers.

Kay Faraday, sitting in the Capcom warehouse: (sneezes)

Dhurke: I made a stupid gamble. Hope you can bail me out, son I haven’t seen in 20 years!

nooo.... don’t bring Kurain Village into this, pleeeeaaase... I don’t want to have my favourite village ruined for meeeeee....

:3c i chose nope

i wonder what Trucy would do if Zak waltzed in and immediately asked her for a favour. tbf phoenix would probably launch him into the sun before he could set foot into the office but...

Ok... So Dhurke doesn’t actually want to fix the legal system; he just said that he wants to gain immense spiritual power which will somehow give him the legal authority to RULE Kooraheen.

how does spiritual power have any effect on land deeds anyway?

“Only the rulers of Kooraheen have ever laid eyes on the orb, Apollo”

and Ahlbi’s seen the box.

“I figured you were poor as fuck so I brought you a plate of sushi!”

ok either A) He thought so little of Apollo that he assumed he’d just be starving on the street

or B) He’s been keeping tabs on Apollo and knows that the WAA doesn’t make a lot of cash, yet he hasn’t made any attempt to contact Apollo himself. Until he needs a favour.

what a.... great guy.

what the FUCK

“here, as my second present... a PICTURE OF YOUR REAL DAD, THE ONE WHO CARED ABOUT YOU AND IS DEAD. HOORAY!”

i can tell theyre trying to do the ‘Hagrid gives Harry a photo album of his family for comfort” but its REALLY NOT THE SAME CIRCUMSTANCES.

His name was... JJ.

~as you know~

also why would a musician perform with magicians?

y’know, ive seen pictures of Jove Justice so far. and A) he looks like a tool, and B) the designers were lazy as fuck and just slapped Apollo’s hair onto Phoenix’s face. I had a pretty negative opinion of him initially. I was thinking I wouldn’t like any of Apollo’s new dads.

But you know what? If they go deeper into Jove’s backstory and prove that he was a caring father, I’m ready to completely drop any criticisms of him and carry this guy on my shoulders

cause compared to Dhurke ill bet he's a freakin angel

...welp... back to Kurain village. At least it’ll remind me of bygone days...

...heh, aw. it’s cute. i like the sparrows on the roof.

ooh! an updated theme, too! not quite as nice as the original but it is nice.

he was full of piss and vinegar

jesus

yeah, kids run around naked. its not super surprising.

“man, I miss that hut...”

apollo youre gonna make me cry;;

Ema: :) i’ll show you the way to Dr. Buff. SURPRISE, HES DEAD! AHAHAHAHHAHA

NOOO

MY SYSTEM FUCKED UP AND STARTED ME OVER FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE CHAPTER AAARGRRJHRFJ

id gone on a short break and i come back to this (weep)

...

does Dhurke have boobs..?

...or just extremely prominent pecs...

phew ok back on track.

wait hold on. if Dr. Buff is in Kurain village, where is he staying exactly? All the houses in Kurain village are old-style Japanese; this appears to be a modern day number.

“please tell me youre joking”

“as if i’d come out here for a few laughs, Apollo”

yeah but youre not above leading him to the dr’s study and THEN telling him he’s dead WTF

ahah. further proof that stepladders are superior.

i mean i know he didnt actually fall off that ladder by accident or whatever but still

“you could say he died an honourable death...”

...crushed under his nerd books like a fuckin cartoon :T

YEAH

POPS

POHLFUCKYA

“I’m so sorry... It seems you’ve had quite a life.”

Why else would she say that except that some poor dialogue translator is secretly begging the series to stop fucking up his backstory

“I mean, middle-aged man with long hair and an eye-patch? You don’t see that everyday.”

just give Valant an eyepatch

hang on. why does an archeologist in America have Kooraheen’s founding orb anyway? I thought it burnt peoples’ faces off. And was super precious. Queen Garananana doesn't seem like someone who’d just hand out a precious ball like that.

oh huh they found an ugly dalek. thats two dalek references in this game now...

did i just... have a ladder conversation about a relic that looks like an airplane.

why does everyone keep making blithe jokes about the doctors horrible death..? does that usually happen or am i misremembering

WHAT THE STATUE OF AMI AND THE URN AND THE GRAVY SCROLL ARE THERE NOOOOOO YOU GET YOUR SLIMY HANDS OFF THEM SOJ, PUT THEM BACK IN T&T WHERE THEY BELONG

god there’s even a coffee shelf. i guess this side of the room is the “Relics of a better game” section.

polly the clean freak. what a sweetheart :)

aw yeah baby

its printing time

oh yeah i forgot this version of printing SUCKS

but i do like the little pap sound it makes when you put down powder

...they have Datz and Dhurkes prints on file.

You guys sure rock at being undercover.

ill give them credit for having the Dance of Devotion not rhyme in English.

seeing lyrics again just gives me flashbacks to Serenade tho

Guitar, Guitar... Up together to the sky...

MAY-OR DE-WEY

MAY-OR DE-We

wait that has the same number of syllables if you just say the pun

PAUL-A TI-SHON

...why the fuck is he in a palanquin

anybody in a palanquin is bad news ALSO WHY DOES IT SAY RECLAIM THE GLORY OF KURAIN

KURAIN DOES NOT HAVE POLTIICIANS. ESPECIALLY NOT MALE ONES.

SOJ. SOJ WHAT IS THIS FUCKERY.

oh yeah he’s a bad guy

...king of this fine nation. First of all... America doesn’t have kings. Second of all, Kurain isn’t a country, it’s a small village. Either he’s a moron or SOJ is fucking up at unprecedented speeds

...did his theme song just ‘wheeee’

“Jerk Q. Public”

pffft

i wish you were golden boy. then you'd be morally questionable but entertaining.

I'm very uncomfortable

k so we’re back in Kurain and so far we’ve seen Zero women in total apart from Ema.

even the unnamed heckler was an old man.

is this the same Kurain Village I know?

wh- talk??

what do you mean talk???

i dont wanna talk to this guy he's a dickcheese!!!

Trucy’s 17 and she hasn’t studied politics at least a little yet? ...weird

“Its real name is the Crystal of Ami Fey”

wait what

“It’s been passed down for generations in the Atishon family”

WAIT WHAT

is he dicking around or is he distantly related to maya

or is he just totally dicking around

if so how dare he use Ami’s name in vain.

where is Datz from anyway

paul i dont mean to dash your hopes but becoming grand high emperor of kurain village will in fact not make you king of the world

datz sure is a good rebel... getting caught... and put in jail...........

damnit, Vore Machine, what am i gonna do with you?

well Apollo, from demon to deer. thats not bad.

dog-faced cop..??

if youre very sneakily referencing our old pal Gumshoe youve got another thing coming, Vore Machine. In the form of my fist.

“A shut-in? Sounds like it will be a challenge just to get a conversation going.”

yeah.... not like youve.... ever dealt with someone like that....... before....... hehe.... heh..............

how long has Datz been in jail if he already knows the cafeteria itinerary

um guys; maybe you should be a tiny bit more concerned about Athena??

i just realized the Shichishito is gold. It’s green, you idiots. Or is that one too bent and bloody for display??

thats it folks thats spirit of justice

apollo has become a living title drop

hes fuckin dead

what kind of bullets were those

yeah apollo, a fledgeling is equivalent to a private.

...also youre not a fledgeling youre near full experience capacity. this is your third... (and last...) year.

so Dhurke is in full stealth mode until it comes to a remotely operated drone that could have literally anybody on the other side? brilliant, pal.

this is why your revolution’s taken like 23 years to get off the ground, jsyk.

...k komandir?

i thought you were supposed to be a parody of The Soldier. what are you doing calling people by Russian military names? did the red scare not happen in this reality?

pfft

it’s so cute.

im struggling between finding it adorable and being uncomfortable

“in other words, something caused him to withdraw from the world...”

maybe his mom’s death??? maybe?????

does anyone in this game understand how a bad thing make a peoples’ brain go???

pretty impressive that a woman’s body could provide sufficient cushioning to soften such a drop.

lol. death attributed to random maniac. thanks soj.

“Private Justice! You’ve suffered a loss just like mine!”

“I have... and thats how I know how you feel.”

yes, i can remember exactly happened when i was a one-year old in diapers. exactly the same kind of pain and trauma.

look i know theyre trying to have a moment but there’s a huge difference between growing up orphaned and being recently bereaved. Sure, Apollo’s seen his fair share of hardship and his experiences aren’t to be devalued, but it’s not the same kind of pain as having your parents die later in your life, especially with the mom’s horrific demise.

Honestly, it’d make more sense if he brought up Clay, since Clay was with him since he was very small and his death was sudden and deeply unfair.

BUT CLAY’S IN THE PAST, CLAY DOESN’T EXIST, WHO’S CLAY?? I DONT KNOW BACK TO SPIRIT OF JUSTICE

YEAH

POHLFUCKYA DURKE

dhurke the burk amiright attorneys

“the opaque crystal orb is the key”

>needless adjective

>will come into play later in court

um so nobody’s gonna mention the blonde lady on his desktop background or........

i like sarge. i hope they dont turn sour when theyre revealed.

nice boot

ooh phosphorescence! neato!

pearl: hello I'm here to do something ive never done before to provide clues for this case. i hope i’ve been useful! thank you, and goodnight.

...as contrived as this is, i am glad to see someone who actually comes from kurain village.

wow, the gangs all here huh

so they renamed Eagle Mountain “”””mt. mitama”””” eh

nice...............

“you are at that age, after all...”

says apollo who's like 24

also why is she talking about all the women leaving the village? i thought it was the men. is this why i haven't seen any ladies? they all just shipped off downtown?? and of course there’s no mention of the creepy oppressive atmosphere and strictness of the village...

nice alliteration apollo

rain spirit at a bus stop and you hacks didnt make a Totoro joke?? lame

“Dj’you bring a light?”

“Ņ̮͔̜̬͖̝ͫͦ̄̒̀̾̆̓̀ͤͨ͋̓̈̑̂͗́ͤo̸̵͈͎̤͇̤̙̯͔̙͖̞̳̙̠̹̞̲̭ͣ́ͫ͌ͦ̒́͞ͅ?ͯͩͨ̾̅̈ͮ̉̀̌͛̆͑̚҉̧͓̠͎̠͎̀̀”

how can you not recognize a foreign voice you idiot

“He tried to fucking kill us but he also gave us this flashlight. To um... see our slow death by starvation better I guess?”

“We couldn’t get back to where we started if we wanted to”

if you wanted to??? thats exactly what you want!!!

Klavier: Hello! This is flashback Klavier here to say: Don’t you miss me? Haha. I miss existing too. Oh well! See you next time~ ...i if there is one.

DEAD

aw, lucky you! you lucked into falling to your death directly to where you wanted to go!

“Yes! Time to find that orb! When we have it, we can....rot here for eternity.”

...ok i know the doc found a way out but still

wHAT THE FUCK

THAT HOLE IS LIKE 40 FEET UP

...oh well, if phoenix can survive it, so can they..?

i love that there are various sea-related items scattered around that give an obvious way out but only yield “durr??? a sea thing??? how this get here??????????” when inspected

whats with dhurkes’ magic eyes

mmmmmmmm a slide puzzle great

“maybe the ppictures correspond to the song”

REALLY??

what is with this game and not outright stating the obvious? its not like it spoils the player or anything; it just makes the WAA look like idiots

fuck this I'm gonna finish this stupid puzzle without this game’s help or die trying

...ah. my personal need for pattern and order blinded me to the truth

oh well; it’s open now. i’m gonna smash Eshiro’s stupid smirking face with it.

“opening that box means you're the best lawyer ever! enjoy leaving the series forever!!!”

“A royal stole that orb”

stole it... as opposed to just taking it and doing whatever they want with it because it’s theirs and there’s absolutely no reason to have to “steal” it.

unless they wanted to frame the rebels i guess but like. theyre rebels. theyre already pretty hated

“it would be seen as utter sacrilege to let a foreign man study this artifact”

oh also it would debunk that whole “explodes your face if you look at it” thing

...here we go...

“he used to be a nice kid, but now...”

he’s an enourmous shitstain?

“he tried to convict trucy for a crime she didnt even commit...”

ok, apollo. there are a zillion valid reasons to hate sadmad, and yes, his reasoning in that trial was shit. but just being a prosecutor and doing what a prosecutor is meant to do doesn’t make him evil. he isn’t about to just roll over because the defendant’s your sis–– er, best friend.

he... could be playing the long game, and interfering could fuck up his plan, Dhurke. Also how was he a rebel and then somehow managed to get into good graces with the royals? It’s already been proven that Dhurke’s Dummy Dragon Gang suck at being stealthy or having any sense of self-preservation. I doubt they just wouldn’t recognize Sadmad

“it’s not conviction that fills his heart; it’s resignation and despair”

are you telling me Sadmad is the equivalent of a guy in a dead end office job taking it out on his coworkers

“The only thing I know for sure is... Nahyuta is suffering, and he is suffering in silence”

edgeworth: been there, done that!

blackquill: BEEN THERE, DONE THAT

ya sure put a lot of stock in Sadmad, Dhurke. i mean i guess he’s your son but seriously; if you're a proper rebel you’d cut your losses and get on with shit already with or without him

...y’know, this speech about lawyers being like dragons kind of doesn’t have the same emotion impact and gravitas that the non-dragon one in T&T did.

oh how... charming...

*America’s* badge is shaped like a sunflower... and Kooraheen’s is shaped like a buggy eye.

YARGH

dont DO that

your voice is BAD

“he’s my son! therefor he has to believe in the same thing as me! nothing, not even torture could have changed him!”

cue Gredgeworth’s awkward cough from the afterlife.

“You know, I remember when Nahyuta and I were kids, he used to say with great pride ‘I have the blood of a dragon in me!’”

cue tiny apollo feeling left out and alone because he doesn’t know what kind of blood is in him

>reform court system

>rescue son

well... i guess there could be worse reasons to start a revolution.

“I mean, what are fathers for?!”

( ‘I... I wouldn’t know...’)

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, GAME

ARE YOU TRYING TO BREAK MY HEART

YOU CAN’T GIVE APOLLO ALL THESE EMOTIONS WHEN YOU’RE ALSO SHAFTING HIS ASS AT THE SAME TIME

SHAME ON YOU

HE HAS A BROKEN ARM

HOWS HE GONNA SWIM

oh its high tide yay

oh it’s... really high tide

wow.

well this is fun. i daresay id really like this sequence... if it wasn’t in this game.

“oh no... the water might carry me up to the way out of here... how awful.”

lol can you imagine if this was timed tho

oh hey it’s the DD panic panic song. i liked that one. it deserves its spot in the suspense music roster.

y’know at this point i kinda hope he really just dies

wouldn’t that be a kicker

not that i hate apollo or anything but I'm just............... so tired

apollo’s pretty calm for a drowning person

i’ve nearly suffocated before and the only thing going through my head was AIR AIR AIR GET AIR GET AIR GET AIR AIR AIR

baby apollo: waahhhh!!! we’re both perfectly dry!!! the artist didn’t bother to make us look wet in the flashback!

A) Little Apollo doesn’t even call Dhurke “Daddy” or “Papa” despite being raised by him since infant hood, possibly meaning Dhurke gave him the ‘You’re adopted” speech pretty early. Or else kids that “aren’t really my son” have to go by name basis. See? Nahyuta calls him father.

B) Haha! Boys don’t cry, not-son! Suck those sissy tears back up into your skull, or you’ll look gay! It doesn’t matter that you’re like five and you almost drowned to death! Don’t embarrass me!

“Don’t ever hesitate to call when you need me”

oh but apollo your ass gets shipped back to america tomorrow ok

no seriously. on one hand; why did apollo get sent away? why couldn’t he be a rebel alongside nahyuta and fight for his family? on the other hand, why didn’t dhurke send nahyuta with him? if apollo’s going away because it’s dangerous, why is nahyuta staying with dhurke in the path of danger?

to be honest I'm ashamed that I'm crying, but it’s less about this scene being sad as fuck and more about the fact that I know that none of this is ever really resolved. Dhurke is still a piece of shit who made no attempt to contact apollo for years until he needed a favour out of him. and Apollo has to live with this stupid backstory because ESHIRO thought it would be dramatic and cool. Apollo’s going to “go home”, leave the series... He doesn’t even know he’s leaving his last scrap of real family who gives a shit about him behind in America.

Apollo doesn’t deserve this.

Dhurke, with superman theme playing in the background: Redeeming my character! By saving your life! Redeeming my character! By saving your life! Though only a heartless, shithead person, would leave you behind to die! So this isn’t great.

...is he holding him in his broken arm

wait is that arm even broken

has he just been holding it like it’s in a sling for no reason this whole time

“Still can’t swim, eh?”

oh fuck off

“Good thing your name’s not Neptune, hahahaha!”

A) OH FUCK OFF

B) NEPTUNE IS A SEA GOD, HE’D ACTUALLY BE RESISTANT TO WATER

WHOA FUCK HOLY SHIT

vore machine came out of nowhere and oh

also he is also laughing at a guy who almost drowned

well aren’t these two just the greatest men on earth huh

Trucy: :) lets make this drowning thing seem like no big deal by playing it off and not even asking if you're okay at all :))))

great... now he owes his life to him.... that completely cancels out every other piece of baggage.....

remember........ when edgeworth owed his life to phoenix......... remember how he was 100% okay after that and not fucked up at all................ remember how he just popped back into the series without any changes whatsoever apart from being phoenix’s friend again........................................

“GLAD TO SEE YOURE NOT CRYING SON; IM GLAD YOU GREW UP INTO THE EMOTIONALLY STUNTED MAN I ALWAYS WANTED, EVEN WITHOUT MY STELLAR PARENTAL GUIDANCE! THAT LONELY ORPHANAGE MUST HAVE TOUGHENED YOU UP GOOD! HAH-HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!”

y’know in the interim i was thinking

Rebel Apollo would be great. he’d probably be an enormous goofus but at least he’d be happy and maybe Dhurke’s shitty plan would get off the ground because an actual smart person would be part of the team.

listen to that fuckin “we solved the case” music.

(sigh)

at least apollo is eating.

Turnabout Revolution... End

heh i wish

“Sure wish Nahyuta was here”

I don’t.

you fucking morons. you colossal fucking asshats. i knew this was coming

Dhurke: DURR LETS TALK ABOUT THIS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT ITEM IN A PLACE WHERE WE KNOW THE GUY WHO WANTS THIS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT ITEM IS! WHATS A STEALTH????

This is why the revolution has taken 20 FCKIN YEARS to take off. Because Dhurke and his band of nincompoops are all incompetent fuckwits.

huh i can see where Nahyuta gets his magic clap from.

also say it you loser say bitch

say bitch

A) If the “crystal” is a fake thing, his police report probably wouldn’t check out cause I'm P sure that people can’t just file police reports for anything without proof of previously owning it.

B) Dhurke. You’re a rebel. Shoot someone. Throw a smoke bomb. Gently jog away? Idk if that works in America but it sure as hell works in Kooraheen.

no. don’t do it. don’t you fucking do––

oh, i just saw a ghost.

The ghost of the potential any sequels past AJ had. It blinked at me sorrowfully before CAPCOM busted it and crammed it into the Containment Unit.

(sigh) Ok (most likely) fake shit aside, that would make Atishon related to Maya, and the “heirloom” would more probably be Maya’s. Why is this excuse present at all anyway it’s stupid.

Apollo it shouldn’t fuckin matter; it’s a court case. Just prove the orb isn’t the Crystal of Ami Fey and you win the case. You know that Phoenix doesn’t cheat and you’re pretty certain that the crystal really is the Founder’s Orb, so you shouldn’t be upset about anything. This isn’t a murder trial, it’s a dispute over ownership of an item. You know you’re in the right, so you ought to be able to win the trial. There’s literally no stakes apart from the fact that you’re facing your boss... but so what? That can happen... I assume, I’m not versed in that sort of thing. But either way, lawyers sometimes have to face off against each other... it happens. You had to face Nahyuta. Now you face Phoenix. Unless you think Phoenix will cheat, or that you don’t have sufficient info on the orb, then there’s legitimately no fucking problem. I mean yeah, sucks to go to court, but who gives a fuck? Win the trial and skip back to Kooraheen to overthrow the oppressive regime.

I don’t

what is the fucking problem

one of you gets payed, you both work at the same place

it doesn’t matter

APOLLO. You KNOW his methods. You know that he wins because his clients are innocent, and would graciously hand over victory if it was clear you were in the right; YOU HAVE TO KNOW THIS. YOU’RE HIS BIGGEST FAN, REMEMBER??

Unless you think he’d fucking cheat for a skeezy politician for money in which case, nice. Gotta love that trust and belief that DD was building up there.

“Can I do it? Can I fight him?” YES ITS NOT EVEN A MURDER TRIAL

“May the best attorney win”

well so much for finding the truth or whatever. Also Phoenix should be proud that Apollo is willing to go up against him; it shows he’s coming into his own. There’s literally no reason for them to be on shit terms right now.

“A fine mess I’ve gotten you into, son.”

Hey shithead that wasn’t an apology. Also yeah, go on and on about how good a lawyer Phoenix is just to scare Apollo. Brilliant.

“The first step of your revolution, huh?”

The first step. 20 years and he’s only just taking the first step. Not the first step to the end of the revolution; the first step to the revolution itself.

Welp, we’re off to fight over the possession of an oversized marble in court. Seeya next time i guess...

#ooc #sulking over SOJ #soj spoilers #soj spoilers obvs]#things we've learned today: Dhurke Sadmahdi is a lazy insensitive incompetent pieceof shit

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saxspielercaderface · 7 years

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Fic: Thanks For The Surgery

HEYO back to writing fic! Today we go back to the good old days before Adrius died, when Finley’s life wasn’t too bad, and when the two were living with Ali the Wise in Nardah.

Kind of a random scenario: Adrius has an accident and Ali has to perform emergency surgery in his living room, all while absolutely smashed and trying not to give away anything alluding to his true identity or past. Lots of snark incoming because snarky/salty/dry humor Wahi is good food for my soul.

I’ll put warnings here for blood (this is a surgical procedure and I do go into a decent amount of detail because Certified Rodent Surgeon), alcohol, implied drug use, and mild profanity.

EDIT: DANG I keep saxing these fics ;-; - edited a couple lines and major thanks to Shady, who suggested/inspired this fic!

EDIT EDIT: Bungled it again - more edits and another thanks to Shady for a post-publishing proofread!

“Saradomin’s beard, Finley, it still hurts!”

“Then stop moving, ye great wank-stain! That’ll just make it worse!”

“Gods...I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

“No ye aren’t - just hold on. We’re almost to Ali’s place, aye?”

Adrius whimpered in pain, burying his face in the crook of Finley’s neck and wrapping his arms tighter around her. She, in turn, hummed reassuringly, adjusting her grip on his torso and legs as she carried him bridal-style through Nardah.

Finley and Adrius had become quite used to mishaps on their journeys, especially now since coming into the semi-employment of Ali the Wise (though the Nardahnian scholar preferred to call it ‘a collaboration to unwind the mysteries of the desert’). However, this particular mishap came not from a mummy, a frozen monster, or a vindictive woman in red sequestered with her playthings in an underground temple.

“On yer left, sir!” she piped up, stepping around that friendly yet nosy bloke - whatever his name was - who always seemed to linger outside of Ali’s house.

“Good evening to you two!” he replied, bowing slightly.

“No, it’s not,” Adrius grumbled. Finley shushed him before turning to the man - no doubt he would know exactly where Ali was at this hour, seeing as his absences from his corner of Nardah were as frequent as Adrius’ sunburns as of late.

“Aye! Ye seen Ali about? Is he home?”

The man nodded, gesturing to Ali’s house.

“He’s home, of course. Hasn’t left his house in about three hours, based on what I’ve seen.”

Aye, and you bloody well see everything that goes on around here, she thought to herself, still slightly perturbed by the man’s...extensive knowledge of Ali’s whereabouts, before giving a quick ‘thank you’ and jogging the rest of the way to the house.

“Ali!” Finley called, kicking her boot against the door in lieu of a knock. “Ali, ye there?”

After a moment, the door creaked open slightly to reveal…

Oh, bollocks…

Ali, with reddened, droopy eyes, in nothing but an undershirt and trousers, chest hair clearly visible.

Ali, with the sweet stench of burnt herbs and tobacco wafting off of him.

Ali, visibly inebriated.

“What?” he mumbled, words slurring. “Did Adrius get too sunburnt again?”

Indeed, Adrius was about as red as a steamed lobster at this point, but Finley shook her head and jostled him slightly, exposing the still leaking wound in his leg for Ali to see.

“Nah, he ran into a cactus trying to get away from some guttin’ lizard.”

“OwowowowOW! It was - GAH! - it was one of those giant lizards, you know? Big, scaley, fangs dripping with rank saliva-”

“Ye can stop with that keech, Adrius,” Finley interrupted. “The bleedin’ thing was barely two feet long.”

Adrius whimpered again as Ali leaned in to take a closer look at his wound.

“Well, it’s good you brought him to me when you did. Cylindropuntia uncinatus spines are-” he paused to make a sound that seemed halfway between a cough and a burp- “absolutely infernal to remove, especially once they’ve released their poison-”

“Poison?”

“POISON?!?”

Ali stared at the pair, brow furrowing.

“That’s what I said. Now stop-” he wobbled a bit- “interrupting me. Get ‘Sir Astacus’ into the operating room and I’ll see what I can do.”

Finley stood still, glancing from Ali to Adrius, not entirely sure what to do.

“Or,” Ali sighed, running a hand across his forehead. “You can let him die and we’ll have skewered crayfish for supper tonight.”

“The fuck ye yammerin’ about, ye great blootered dafty?!?” she blurted, nearly dropping Adrius in the process.

She could’ve sworn she saw Ali’s optic nerve from just how hard he rolled his eyes in that instant.

“I am not bloated. I only had half a fifth of whiskey-”

“That’s not what I said-”

“I know, I know. Just-” he burp-coughed again- “get Adrius inside and put him on the table.”

“Ah...aye. Right.” She edged through the doorway, careful not to whack Adrius into anything, and sat him down on Ali’s desk table, prompting him to lie back once she had cleared the papers, books, and empty teacups from its surface. Ali, meanwhile, retrieved a sizeable box, thunking it on a chair and lifting the lid to reveal a mess of vials, tubs, tools, and bandages. “Ye sure yer alright to do this sort of thing, Ali? Ye sound and smell as pissed as a longhall full of revellers right now-”

“I’m fine.”

“Aye, right…”

“‘Aye right,’” Ali mocked, his faked Fremennik accent surprisingly accurate. “I’ve done this several times before, you know.” He selected a tool - something that, to Finley, looked like a filleting knife the fishermen in Rellekka would use - and held it up to the lamp light.

Adrius blanched, lobster-colored cheeks fading to pink at the sight, and Finley placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Really?” she asked, trying to sound as relaxed as possible and hoping that would rub off him. “Well, that’s good!”

Ali nodded, wiping the blade clean with an alcohol-dampened cloth.

“Of course. I am the most experienced surgeon in Nardah.” He paused his knife-cleaning to shrug his shoulders, chuckling dryly. “Well, on goats, at least.”

“GOATS?!?” Adrius swiped Finley’s hand from his shoulder and made a shaky attempt to stand, face now back to being beet-red as he bellowed out his complaints. “GOATS, ALI?!?! HOW ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO FIX MY LEG WHEN ALL YOU KNOW HOW TO OPERATE ON ARE GOATMMMMPH-!”

His outburst was brutally muffled by another damp cloth shoved against his nose and mouth, and, after a moment of struggling, he slumped back down onto the table, out cold.

Finley jumped back, sputtering.

“WHAT IN THE BLOODY-”

“That’s better,” Ali sighed, tossing the spent rag over his shoulder and returning a small bottle labeled ‘chloroform’ to the medicine box.

“ALI! YE,” she began, gesturing wildly between Adrius and the discarded rag. “WHAT DID YE-”

“Do I have to put you to sleep as well?” Ali asked, setting out several more metal tools.

“WHA?!? Ah, no…”

“Then, for the love of Elidnis, shut up. I need to concentrate.”

Despite Ali’s warning, Finley continued, snagging Ali’s sleeve and forcing him to face her.

“What did ye do to him?” she growled, her hold tight despite Ali’s attempts to pry her hand away. “Tell me!”

“I work best when my patients are asleep!” he growled likewise, finally twisting her wrist hard enough for her to loosen her grip. “Besides, this is going to hurt, and I’d rather not have this lobster of a man here-” he prodded Adrius’ chest with a finger- “screaming in my face while I’m trying to save his life.”

“His life?!?” Finley squeaked, hands now tangled in her braids. “Is...is he going to die, Ali?”

“Not necessarily.” Ali cut Adrius’ trouser leg off and began swabbing around his wound with some strong-smelling yellow liquid as he continued. “If you just stay quiet and let me work, he will be fine. If you keep running your mouth and distracting me, my hand might slip, and I might sever his femoral artery or otherwise butcher him, which would make my half-brother oh so proud and cause Adrius to bleed out all over the floor that I spent all of yesterday morning sweeping. Also, if I do nothing on account of your interruptions, he will certainly suffer blood poisoning from those cactus spines and, at best, will never walk again, and, at worst, will never breathe again. So, what will it be?”

Finley wasted no time in taking two steps back from the improvised operating table, mouth knit tightly shut.

“Good answer,” Ali said, leveling the blade in her direction for a moment before turning his attention to Adrius.

However just before making the first incision, he hesitated, glancing back in Finley’s direction.

“On second thought, you can help. Get over here, hand me whatever tool I ask for, and make sure Adrius doesn’t choke on his own vomit.”

“Aye.” She did so, holding Adrius’ head to the side with one hand and keeping her other free to dip into the medicine box when needed. “Good luck.”

“I don’t need luck,” Ali replied, flourishing the knife before making a careful first incision. “I just need a steady hand and a steady mind.”

“I know. But ye have neither of those right now.”

“Fair point.” He stumble-burp-coughed again. “Luck it is, then.”

The incisions were small and precise, the blood skillfully swabbed away every few seconds. Finley was surprised - impressed - at how swiftly he worked, especially in his current state.

“Aye, ye do look like ye know what yer doing...”

“Shush. Foreceps.”

She picked up the first pair she found and passed it to Ali, peering down at the surgery site - the spines were now clearly visible in Adrius’ thigh muscles, barbed and leaking a thick, milky green substance.

“Is that the poison?”

“SHUSH. No, not those forceps. I need the toothed ones.” She found the correct forceps, fumbling slightly, and handed them over. “And no, that is not the poison. It’s an enzymatic substance that breaks down-” another burp, muffled by a sleeve- “breaks down cellulose, released by contact between the carapace of the spines with haemoglobin-”

“The fuck?”

“Finley?”

“Aye?”

“Shut. Up. I don’t have much time left before these spines dissolve and release their actual poison.”

“Right.” She bit her tongue, worriedly combing her hand through Adrius’ hair as Ali continued.

One spine extracted, threaded through the muscle like a needle and dropped onto a fresh cloth.

A second, then a third.

A fourth.

A fifth-

“MERDA!”

Finley jumped at the sudden outburst - Ali’s voice had never risen to that volume before, and the sound struck her core awfully.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

“Ali?!?”

There was a pause. Ali turned, expression ironed flat, blood flecking the front of his undershirt.

“Hemostat, please,” he said crisply, pointing to a scissor-like implement. Finley seized it, nearly skewering Ali’s hand in the process of passing it to him.

Still holding Adrius’ head steady, she peered over Ali’s shoulder, hissing when she caught a glimpse of what was wrong.

Blood.

Far too much blood.

She watched Ali swap the wound, then clamp the hemostat around something deep within the leaking tissue. Another tool - the metal forceps from before - was held close to the hemostat.

A flicker of some deep, primal power, a verdant spark, and a whiff of burning flesh later, and Ali removed both tools from the wound, swabbing it again.

The bleeding had stopped.

Finley released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and went back to casting her fingers through Adrius’ hair, shaking slightly.

More spines extracted, all of them still leaking that viscous goo.

Tense, silent minutes passed, feeling more like hours.

Finally, Ali spoke again.

“Water runes.”

Finley’s hand dove into the medicine box, closing around a sachet of water runes. She handed them over - Ali liquified a few in the palm of his hand and directed the resulting liquid through the wound, cleaning it out a final time.

“Threader, please. The suture needle should already be attached.”

Indeed it was, a curved, almost wicked-looking needle clamped within the jaws of another scissor-like tool.

It was almost like watching her mother embroider clothing, the way Ali closed up the surgery site. First the muscle layer with a thick, shiny thread, then the outer layer of skin with-

She balked a bit as, instead of sewing up Adrius’ skin, Ali instead asked for another implement he simply called ‘the stapler.’

Yet, she handed it over without complaint and listened to the repeated ka-chunk the device made and the tinkle of metal shards in between.

The site was bandaged with some loose-woven cloth and, finally, Ali straightened, stretched, and sighed.

“Done.”

Finley sighed likewise, wiping her brow.

“And Adrius? He’ll be alright, aye?” she asked, watching Ali clean his hands and tools.

“He’ll be fine,” he answered, stumbling away from the table and snatching up a half-empty bottle of whiskey along the way. Taking a swig, not even bothering to pour a nip, he flopped down into his chair and stared up at the ceiling. “Give him a couple days, and he’ll be walking around by your side once again, getting horrifically sunburnt like always.”

“Right! Aha!” She ruffled the still unconscious Adrius’ hair, placing a peck on his forehead before striding over to Ali and pulling him upright into a tight hug. “Thank ye, Ali! Yer a right life saver, ye are-”

Ali seemed to stiffen in her arms, shaking slightly and hissing through clenched teeth - she drew back, hands going back to her braids.

“Shit, Ali. I didn’t hurt ye did I?”

After a moment, Ali relaxed, sitting back down and taking another hearty swig from the bottle.

“No, no. It’s fine,” he said, far too quickly, waving his hand dismissively. “And, it’s nothing, really. No problem. No fuss. Don’t mention it.”

Finley put her hands on her hips, staring Ali down.

“I mean it. Thank ye. Ye saved Adrius’ life. Cut some bastard spines out his leg even while ye were blootered and baked off yer arse. That counts for something, aye? So, I’m gonna thank ye for it.”

Ali returned her stare, eyes searching, probing. Eventually, he nodded.

“Then, in that case, you’re welcome, Finley. Now get back over there and watch Adrius. He’ll wake up screaming, no doubt, and he shouldn’t be alone when that happens. Also, please refrain from certain strenuous activities until he’s fully healed, alright? I don’t want to have to stitch him up again after you two have hogged my bed, as is your nightly want.”

“Aye...right.”

Taking a seat by the improvised operating table, she held Adrius’ hand, entwining their fingers together.

It was another few minutes before the thoughts that crossed her mind formed into a question, and she blurted it out to the room without a second thought.

“Oi, Ali. That bit about ye only having goat surgery experience was a load of keech, wasn’t it? Ye have done that before, on people, haven’t ye? Where’d ye learn that? And what was with that bit of magic ye used to stop the bleeding? Didn’t see ye use any runes for that, and-”

She paused, waiting for an answer, a ‘shush,’ anything.

Silence.

Scooting around and peering across the room, she discovered why.

Ali was asleep, drooling slightly, the now empty bottle of whiskey cradled in his arms like a child.

“Right...I’ll just ask when yer awake, then,” she mumbled, turning back around to watch over Adrius.

***

The ruse worked.

She thinks I’m asleep.

Good.

I almost gave myself away with my magic, there.

Need to be more careful in the future.

They can’t know.

Not yet.

Not until…

Ah, now the whiskey’s working…

Good.

And I won’t have to worry about that cursed sock on my front doorknob for a while.

Very good.

very...

vvveeerrryyy...

goooooood….

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

#silly title is silly #alternative title: Dr. Snark MD #sax writes stuff #fanfiction #runescape fanfiction #world guardian finley #adrius #wahisietel #ali the wise #surgery

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bentchbites · 5 years

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"Had I known what the soup meant, I would've eaten it anyway - I was half-dead at the time." • Everyone is right. This is closer to the writing style of the IA we all now know and love! I didn't know what to expect in this book since I thought the stakes were already so high in the previous book but wow, this time the world wasn't going to end, not directly at least, but it was Kate's very own life (and secrets!) that were on the line and how could the stakes get higher than that? • " "He's standing behind me, isn't he?" Why me?" • Apocalypse aside, this was fun and entertaining, esp since Kate is naturally snarky and sarcastic. I LOVE THIS ABOUT HER! The premise was a magical WWE to death and Kate was dragged into it bec of Pack business, but it escalates into something more personal to Kate. I also didn't know a lot about Indian Mythology (esp Shiva's other godly attributes) before this, but I would say, the research and representation of it in here is great! • "Steady relationships were a luxury I wasn't allowed to have for most of my life. Friends shielded and protect you, but they also made you vulnerable, because you sought to return the favor." • What struck me most out of this is the found family aspect of Kate to the Pack. Kate was trained to operate on her own, and here, she gets to fight alongside others who were team-players and we get to see some of that unstable dynamic. Something happens in Chapter 29 that I totally didn't see coming, and it drives the newfound relationships around Kate from 0 to 100 in a literal SNAP! We also get more romance between Kate and Curran, FINALLY! and ugh, we get romance before the BEFORE the height of action, in the MIDDLE of it, and at the END of it! Bless! I am so hooked! • "He came for me. I couldn't believe it. . . . *Oh you stupid, stupid idiot man.* What was the God damn point of saving him only to watch him throw his life away?" • Magic Strikes (Kate Daniels #3) by Ilona Andrews . . . . #bookstagram #bibliophile #booknerdPH #bookworm #instabooks #bookish #bookishfeature #bookcommunity #alwaysreading #bookstagramersPH #IGreads #urbanfantasy #KateDaniels #MagicStrikes #IlonaAndrews #cactus (at Meycauayan, Bulacan) https://www.instagram.com/p/BrXoNmRn9yx/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1kre3n5c6bykm

#3 #bookstagram #bibliophile #booknerdph #bookworm #instabooks #bookish #bookishfeature #bookcommunity #alwaysreading #bookstagramersph #igreads #urbanfantasy #katedaniels #magicstrikes #ilonaandrews #cactus

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drink-n-watch · 6 years

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I’m sure you’ve all seen this tag already. Cactus Matt created it a few weeks ago but it’s already made the rounds because it’s so much fun!!! And not only does Matt have these great creative ideas all the time, he is an absolute dear who nominated me in the first round. I, on the other hand, am an absolute bum which is why I’m only answering this now. I have an excuse though. It was hhhhaaaarrrddd !!!

Medium time readers of this blog may already know that I am a generous harem owner who believes in giving (super hot) characters a chance… As a result my harem has grown far and wide with multiple levels, little private subharems, exclusive secret groups even I’m not allowed to join… Moreover, I also have The Worst Tastes in Anime and husbandoes, often favoring variously sociopathic characters that wouldn’t touch me with a stick unless it was really pointy and maybe poison tipped. I also dislike breaking up cannon couples. I may have some issues…

Here are just a few of my favorites:

As you can imagine, picking just 5 that all fall into different harem archetypes was a challenge. I may have failed..

But first, what’s the point of playing if there aren’t any rules…

Link back to the original post on Anime QandA so they can check out everyone’s picks! OK!!

Use the ‘Build A Harem’ logo somewhere in the post. DONE

Make sure to mention the person who nominated you too! MATT!

Pick 5 Anime Characters (any show & any gender) that would be in your ideal harem if you were the main character of a harem anime, explain a little bit as to why they are your picks (if you want). I TRIED

Make sure each character you pick falls into some of the following harem character types: Childhood friend, tom boy/girl, genki girl/boy, loli/shota, trap, tsundere, yandere, kuudere, dandere, etc. (If there’s a character you’ve picked that doesn’t specifically fall into one of these types or falls into multiple types that’s fine too!) ECT.

Nominate 5 people to participate in this tag!

The Childhood Friend:

poor Shiro (by the very talented Kumo)

Mephisto Pheles – Blue Exorcist

I won’t deny that part of this choice certainly has to do with the fact that I recently watched the Kyoto arc and my enthusiasm for this franchise got somewhat renewed.

Although my heart belongs to Shiro now and forever (decent father figures will get me every time man)… I can’t help but be drawn to the sneaky and perpetually snarky archdemon with a permasmirk. Sure he’s the embodiment of evil who never shows his cards and has 18 aces up his sleeve and he may be plotting To Take Over the World. But he’s got a great sense of humor and is a real snazzy dresser! Priorities are important.

He’s been around long enough for me to have known him since childhood and an ill advised friendship formed before either of us knew any better is probably the Only way we could ever stand each other. What my own imaginary childhood was like that I was befriending Satan’s kids is a story for another time.

The Genderbent

Ruka & Ringo

https://www.zerochan.net/Foge

https://www.zerochan.net/Karuha

I have already proclaimed my love for androgynous characters in general with two top 5 posts but even then I only got to scratch the surface. Let me take this opportunity to add a couple more. Ruka . Steins;GATE and Ringo UtaPri.

Although from very different franchises, both these characters fill out the same basic role with panache. Namely they balance out a cast of strong willed eccentrics with a touch of calm and fragility. Identity issues aside, both are kind, patient inherently soft characters that I want to support and help… I mean they’re both hopelessly in love with men that are unable to reciprocate but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

The Genki Boy

by the amazing marimaripink

Shusei Kagari – Psycho Pass

I love Psycho Pass..i think all of the main characters are in my harem… Except for Kogami. Yeah…I told you: issues.

However, sweet and very callous Kagari is the only one I could fit into a recognizable category. In fact it’s probably a bit of a stretch but you will admit he is the most genki of the cast. Is there such a thing as bitter genki? He’s that…

Kagari was a whirlpool of color and surprising good humour in an otherwise dour universe and rather morbid story. You could usually count on him to find the black comedy in a situation and when push comes to shove he’s a really friendly and relatable guy. I still miss him.

The Kuudere (maybe)

by the amazing Rushka

The Mediator – Humanity has Declined

Although I’m fascinated by dere types, I rarely find myself attracted to them. Until they come up with a dere types for “troll”that is. I guess tsunderes can occasionally be cute is they err on the side of dere but I don’t understand the yandere appeal at all. This said, I figured I would try to fit one in….

Wel, to be honest I just wanted to find a way to include ny generally overlooked best girl ever. I wasn’t sure where to fit her. As far as archetypes go she’s The Stoic. However, though she tends to keep a straight face, we know through her inner dialogue that she’s basically entirely made up of sarcasm. In fact, I’m not entirely sure there’s any dere in her at all.

Unsurprisingly, I absolutely love this character and I never get the chance to talk about her. From the cute character design to the razor sharp wit and the no nonsense attitude, I found myself wanting to be the mediator almost as much as I wanted to be with the mediator (I have similar feelings for Utena). As I was going through options in my head for “becoming” someone specific, it sort of dawned on me that I may not be attracted to yandere because I’m already the yandere in the relationship… well that’s not good. (For those less familiar with my brand of *humor*, that was a joke)…

The Monster Girl

by Loki God of Tricks

Hevlaska – D.Gray-man

Since Matt left the door open for any other harem character archetype, I figured I’d try one I hadn’t yet seen in other build a harem posts (as of writing, one of you has probably published a post exclusively on this type since): the monster boy/girl. I really considered any of the lovely aquatic boys from Orenchi…, (Don’t worry, they are in my harem), however I decided to embrace my weird and go with Hevlaska from D.Gray-man.

I read the manga first and despite D.Gray-man being a veritable brothel of bishies I was almost supernaturally fascinated by Hevlaska. The innocence corrupted girl completely captured my imagination and I found (find) my mind wandering back to her on a regular basis.

I don’t think I can properly explain this one. It was sudden but deep infatuation and it lingers still.

So did I convince you to never trust my tastes on anything from now on?

You’ll probably need a few “good” harems to balance this out, I hope these guys can deliver:

ED – This will teach me to schedule posts way in advance, all my original nominations were taken (some have even published heir tags already…) so last minute change:

Leap250 : It can be idols – that would be interesting!

Curiously Dead Cat: I’m very curious here

BiblioNyan: I can’t wait to read this one

MangaKast: A Manga Harem sounds pretty yummy too

Shokamoka: I don’t care – I’m still nominating Shoka

This are going to be such great reads!

The ‘Build a Harem’ Tag (or what Irina does with 90% of her time) I'm sure you've all seen this tag already. Cactus Matt created it a few weeks ago but it's already made the rounds because it's so much fun!!!

#blonde bishie #tag #yummy

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