#and when she finally does Ten’s had this sort of talk with himself where he’s realised he got carried away with his pretty-boy persona

[thekitsunesiren]

hello mind if I drop off a prompt?

Damian let's his family know he is going to hang out with a friend.

a bat bugs Damian to find him hanging out with one Danni Fenton.

adult Danny/Sam/Tucker parenting a 12 year old Danni.

The trio earn Auntie/Uncle/Uncle privileges from Damian.

Oh, this will be fun!

Okay, first things first would be the absolute disbelief from the batfam from Damian's announcement. Because Damian. Damian "Demon Brat" Wayne, had a friend. A friend that they didn't have the knowledge of knowing until just then.

With Damian springing it on them, they didn't have the time to ask any important questions, let alone do a background check on the kid and their family.

From what Damian told them, the kid they were meeting was named Danielle, but she preferred to be called Ellie. She and her parents had moved to Gotham not too long ago. He met her on a pure coincidence. And of course, with how paranoid the Batfam was, that didn't settle well for them. The parents could've sent their child to get close to the Wayne family for the money. Or kidnap Damian!

Tim walked up to Damian and ruffled his hair while teasing the younger Wayne about how he finally made a friend that wasn't an animal. With a scoff and a swat as a way to get rid of the opposing limb, Damian turned and left the manor while slamming the door behind him.

As soon as it closed, Tim raced back to where he left his computer. There was no way he wasn't going to let his little brother go anywhere unknown without at least two trackers on him. And with how the others quickly scrambled behind him to get a look on his computer, the others had the same thought.

------

Damian, however, was excited to visit Dani and her family.

The two had met when he was leaving school and waiting for Alfred to pick him up. And she wasn't that far from him, standing near the road waiting for someone to pick her up as well. At first glance, she looks like she could be someone adopted by father. Black hair tied to a ponytail and shockingly bright blue eyes. Immediately, he saw her as someone that his father would try to adopt just off of appearance alone. With her seeming to be around his age, he could claim that he could have a sibling to interact with more.

Of course, it wasn't long before the stranger took notice of his staring and turned to look him dead on. Her eyes meeting his in a serious stare down where neither of them moved.

When Damian made the move to speak, a car pulled up in front of the girl. The passenger side window rolling down and someone talking to the girl. She responded in turn before opening the passenger side door and getting in. Damian could only stand and watch as the car soon pulled away from the school and drive away into the distance. Not long afterwards, Alfred arrived to pick him up and he rode in silence on the way home while contemplating the other student that he met.

Okay! Here's how I feel like it would go down with their so called meeting out of the way.

Damian would see Dani and would immediately assume that she would be some sort of clone of either his father or one of the other bats. Was she sent to his school to watch and observe him? Did she know who his alter ego was?

After that, he would be watching her every move during class, surprising himself to find out that she was even in a few of his classes. Suspicious.

Does he approach her? No, because that would put too much on him and probably give her the opening she was expecting. He was ten steps ahead of her in every way!

Day after day, he watches and takes note of everything that she does, trying to notice any oddities in her behavior. Or any sign that she was spying on him.

While she didn't seem to be spying on him directly, Damian did notice her personality of being strong willed, stubborn and having a love for puns. Hm, a clone of the Robins maybe instead of Batman?

Dani, on the other hand, is wondering why the young Wayne seemed to be following her from a distance ever since they've seen each other that day on the end of school. From what Danny told her, it was the older Wayne's that she was supposed to avoid in case she was forcefully kidnapped, though it seemed that the younger Wayne was just as bad as the older ones.

How did Dani end up going to Damian's school, you ask? Well, it was simple:

Not long after Danny defeated Pariah Dark and took up the mantel as the next King of the Infinite Realms, Dani had returned from her travels around the world and decided to spend a bit of time with Danny as things calmed down. Maybe even get to know the others a bit better, seeing as she was never properly introduced to them.

She found out that he was dating both Sam and Tucker. Had been for a while now. Huh, go figure. And during that time of dating, she had arrived to catch up and spend a bit more time of all of them. Maybe even try to find a good reason to stay in Amity for a bit longer (even though she really loved to travel).

But not too long after that, a reveal gone wrong left Dani standing in a room with a frantic Sam packing up everything she owned while Jazz treated a barely conscious Danny's wound on his side. A gunshot wound that was from his parents no doubt.

One rushed explanation from Jazz about how the reveal went wrong, and how they had to leave Amity Park. Now.

With a quick meet up with Tucker, the five of them were huddled in a car and pedaling out of Amity as fast as they could. Dani staying in the back seat with Jazz to watch over Danny and make sure that he didn't pass out again on their way to-wherever it was they were going. Her core wouldn't allow it.

The clone didn't know how far they've been driving and for how long, but she knew that they were out of Amity and that was all that mattered. But the question bouncing around her head was: what happens now?

And the answer was to drive all the way called Gotham city and lay low for a while. Thankfully, a lot of the buildings were no questions asked. So when they find a place that could fit all of them (small and cramped as it was) while planning on what to do now. Of course Sam, Tucker, and Jazz all pretty much up and left without much except for some spare clothes and their ghost hunting gear (and a credit card Sam managed to snag from her mom's purse. Her own card didn't have as much on it.). But Danny was out of there and they were safe from both the Fentons and the GIW. For now.

Now, several weeks have passed. Jazz had managed to find a job to help with the money, while Sam and Tucker were both on the way as well. Which left Dani pretty much alone in the apartment with a slowly healing Danny. And while he was healing, he was kept on house arrest, much to his ire. Though he did help out with the cooking and other house chores while the others were out doing their own thing. And if the two of them occasionally floating outside their apartment during the night, who would tell on them?

When about two months passed, the older teens realized that Gotham would be their permanent home until further notice, so it would only be right that they allow Dani some time to get out as well.

So, they enroll her to school! Gotham U no less (Thank you, Tucker). Sure it was a bit stuffy for their tastes (mostly Sam's), but they were sure that Dani would fit in fine! What's the worst that could happen?

Unfortunately, Dani was a clone of Danny, so she was off to a bit of a rough start. And she hadn't really interacted with someone of her (supposed) age before, so it was all plenty new for her. So she really didn't know where to start.

It wasn't until she went to class that she met a kid in the back row facing the window, who looked like he didn't want to be in this class either. And during attendance she learned that his name was Damian Wayne. Odd, wasn't that the name of that rich family that Sam talked (more like complained) about? Oh well, coincidence maybe.

Throughout the entire day, Dani would notice that if they had the same class, he would be looking in her direction for moments at a time.

It was about the last class of the day when Dani pieced together as to why he could be doing that.

Oh..

He was shy!

Well, Dani would make sure that wouldn't last long. And maybe he would approach her soon.

So every day, Dani would work on getting to know him better. Even when he would brush her off and try to make her go away. She was as stubborn as Danny for a reason!

When the two finally became friends and Dani told that her new friend invited her to her house and also offered her parents, she forgot on whether or not that was truly the rich Wayne she was supposed to stay away from.

Dani had spoken about her friend plenty of times, and all of her parents seemed to like him.

Danny laughed every time Dani spoke about doing something or possibly pranking Damian, thinking that she was doing good with socialization and that the kid had to enjoy their friendship to some degree.

Sam was a bit more cautious of the friend, asking more of his likes and dislikes. Was he really bullying Dani? Did he say anything mean to her? Did she have to go to the school and fight a kid? All and all, Dani slowly convinced her that Damian was a good kid and she let it be. Telling Sam that Damian was a vegan may or may not have helped.

Tucker was a bit more lenient than the other two. The kid was nice to her? Didn't bully her? He was smart and knew his way around tech? Good

But as they stood in front of Wayne Mansion dressed in their more casual clothes, they all thought that they should've asked more questions about Dani's friend.

(All in all: neither of them have truly interacted with someone their age, your honor.)

Confrontations, miscommunication, and possibly a lot of bonding could come from both sides, and I would love to see it!

#Kitsune Kounters #danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dc×dp prompt #danny phantom crossover #dp crossover #this was in my drafts for literal MONTHS

[zenni-gotcha]

Gang trying not to wake you up

[Not me still being alive and all that jazz.]

[This is them getting into a shared bed if you’re already asleep.]

Lupin- While he wouldn’t wake you up on purpose (or so he says) he’s also not going to complain if you do wake up, especially if he’s just getting in from a job. It’s been so long since he’s seen you! He’s missed you! Probably will put as many kisses as he can all over your face. Regardless if he’s trying to wake you or not, he just sort of flops into bed. He’s going to land where he lands and sometimes that includes on top of you.

Jigen- He’ll do his best not to make too much noise or movement. Not only does he not want to bother you, but also when this man is ready to sleep, the only thing that he wants to do is sleep. So, to keep you from wanting to talk to him until the morning he’ll do his best to keep you asleep. Once the morning’s there, he’s more than happy to see you, but until then you both need your rest. Half of the time he ends up waking you up anyway because he can’t help wanting to hold you, and that goatee bristling against your neck is rather startling.

Goemon- You won’t even know that he had gotten back until you woke up in the morning. If he doesn’t want you to know that he’s there then you won’t. Well, it’s not so much that he doesn’t want you to know as much as he feels awful if he wakes you up. He likes to make himself stay awake for just a while longer just so he can see how peaceful you are. This has resulted in many unnerving times for you waking up and feeling someone staring at you. He doesn’t mean to be threatening, quite the opposite actually, he just doesn’t always know how to portray it. He spent his life studying the blade, not relationship etiquette.

Fujiko- She’s pretty good at not waking you up most of the time; being sure to take heels off so they don’t click on the floor, making sure to have the bathroom door closed while she’s taking her make-up off so the light doesn’t shine on you, gets into bed gently, all that stuff. However, much like Lupin, if she hasn’t seen you in a while, she’s going to wake you up at least to say. “Hi.” Tries not to often though, as she knows she hates being woken up in the middle of the night herself. The only other reason she might wake you a bit is to get you to hold her, but as soon as that happens, you’ll both be back asleep pretty quickly.

Zenigata- He would try his best to not wake you up, he really would. But, he’s so tired and would trip over three things and knock over four others on his way to the room. If by some miracle you didn’t wake up through all that, he would actually get in bed without waking you. Until about ten minutes later. Don’t be alarmed; a wild bear did not just break into your room. That’s just your overworked partner finally asleep for once in his life; his snores are a reminder that he sleeps as loudly as he does everything else in his life. Settles in and quiets down a bit if you snuggle up next to him. Apologizes for it the next morning; you didn’t have to say anything, he just knows.

#lupin iii x reader #reader x lupin iii #daisuke jigen x reader #jigen x reader #goemon ishikawa xiii x reader #goemon x reader #fujiko mine x reader #fujiko x reader #koichi zenigata x reader #zenigata x reader

[fandomxpreferences]

The Invisible Woman Chapter Seven: To Have Loved and Lost

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Jake seresin x female!reader

TW: so much angst, im sorry

Summary: Jake goes digging for information when you're not back yet.

Word Count:1.8k

It's been almost a month since Jake watched you leave. He knows the timeline was just an estimate, but his gut is screaming at him that something isn't right. 

The team tries to comfort him and tell him he's overreacting but he can see it in their eyes. They feel it too. 

Against his better judgment, he's standing outside Admiral Cooper's office working up the nerve to knock. A few minutes pass and finally, he raises his fist and hits the hard wood.

"Come in." He hears and he timidly steps into the office, standing at attention. 

"At ease. What can I do for you?" He asks and Jake swallows. 

"Sir, I was wondering if I could get some sort of update on my girlfriend. She's been gone longer than expected and I'm worried." 

He watches Admiral Cooper's eyebrows shoot up and his attention is torn away from the work on his computer. 

"Who's your girlfriend, Lieutenant?"

He mentally prepares himself for what may come next before answering. "Ozzy, sir."

Admiral Cooper doesn't say anything at first but Jake can immediately see the change in his demeanor. The man's eyes fall and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. 

It makes Jake nauseous. 

"You know I can't give you details, son." 

Son. If there's one thing Jake knows, it's that a high-ranking official calling you outside of your name or rank is bad news.

"I'm not asking for details, sir. I know how sensitive the situation is. I just want to know if she's okay." He tries, desperation leeching into his voice. 

"Shut the door and take a seat." The man instructs and Jake does so silently. He claims the chair in front of the desk and stares ahead expectantly. 

"The two of you aren't married so I'm not legally obligated to tell you anything. However I've been where you are, and I know how it feels. This stays between us." He starts and Jake gives a weak nod. 

Where is he, exactly? When he walked in he thought he was just going to find out you would be back later than expected, but now he isn't so sure. 

"Three weeks ago, Ozzy and her team infiltrated their target and came under heavy fire. Ten of sixteen were killed. Ozzy and the other five are missing, presumed captured or dead."

Jake's vision goes blurry and his ears start ringing loudly. The words bounce around his skull, reverberating and immediately giving him a headache. Missing. Captured or dead.

You've been MIA for three weeks and he didn't even know. The realization almost makes him throw up.

He's brought back by a firm hand clapping him on his shoulder. He didn't realize he had started crying, the tears rolling off his face and landing on his flight uniform. 

"I'm sorry, son. We're doing everything we can to bring her and our men home, regardless of the outcome."

Jake nods his head absentmindedly and stands, walking out of the office and straight to Maverick on the tarmac. He doesn't even wait to be dismissed, too focused on his destination to care. 

The second Mav sees him, he knows something is wrong. His shoulders are tense and his cheeks splotchy as he fights off the sobs threatening to break free. 

"May I be dismissed for the day, sir?" His voice is strained and unrecognizable as he tries to talk around the lump in his throat. 

Jake never calls him sir. It's always Mav or Pops. He instantly agrees, resisting the urge to pry for more information.

"Go home, we don't need you distracted in the air." He agrees and Jake instantly turns to leave. 

"Jake!" Mav calls and he stops but doesn't turn back around. "Call me if you need anything, okay?"

Mav sees his head dip just barely before he continues and takes a deep breath. Something tells him Jake isn't coming out of whatever this is the same. 

Nobody sees or hears from Jake for three days after that. When Bradley, Mav, and Phoenix show up at your house unannounced, they're taken aback. He's been staying here ever since you shipped out.

Jake's eyes are swollen and red, his beard unkempt, and his greasy hair all over the place. He's been drinking, they know that much. 

It's 9 am and they can smell the whiskey on his breath.

He doesn't say anything as he turns to go back to his spot on the couch and the three pilots take it as their invitation to come in. The house is a mess, and Bradley wrinkles his nose. Jake looks like absolute dog shit, and he feels like it too. 

He hasn't eaten since he found out, and trying to sleep is a cruel joke at this point. His body is borderline shutting down and everyone can see it. 

"What's going on, Jake?" Mav asks quietly, extremely concerned about the man he's come to look at as a son. 

Jake's answer is simple, but it knocks the wind out of them. "She's gone."

They all look at each other briefly and Bradley steps forward. "What do you mean? Who's gone?" They already know the answer, but much like Jake, they don't want to accept it. 

"Ozzy." He rasps. "She's missing, and they think she was captured or killed."

Phoenix feels her heart drop and she fights back the tears threatening to spill over her lash line. "Well, what about her team? They don't have any more information?" She tries and Jake shrugs. 

"They might if they weren't all dead or missing too. Ten confirmed and six MIA." He replies and Phoenix's hand covers her mouth. 

"Oh my god." It's the only thing she can muster up in response and the two men are struck completely silent. 

Jake takes another swig of Jack Daniels and Maverick finally speaks up. 

"Well, are they looking for her?" He asks and Jake shrugs. 

"As far as I know. I'm not going to be able to get any more information. It's a miracle I was able to find out in the first place." He slurs and Bradley takes the bottle. 

"Go take a shower, Jake. When's the last time you ate?" He questions and Jake leans back. 

"Lunch right before I found out." He replies and Mav shakes his head. 

"We'll order takeout while you get cleaned up. You need to be in the right mind when they find her." He instructs and Jake looks up at the older man. 

He appreciates the subtle way he says when not if, and it's enough to bring him to his feet. 

Bradley claps him on the shoulder and gives him a small smile. "She's tough, man. She wouldn't go down without a fight." 

Jake shakes his head and swallows thickly. "That's the thing. I don't know if that's true."

Maverick frowns and takes a step forward. "What does that mean?"

Jake runs a hand down his tired face and looks up at the ceiling. "Before she left, she had doubts about whether she was ready. She said she wasn't confident in her abilities." He explains and the three of them glance at each other. 

"Why would she say that?" Phoenix questions and Jake feels his eyes stinging again. 

"Her last mission before this one, she missed her target. It almost got her and her entire team killed. It fucked her up pretty bad, and she lost trust in her instincts." He whispers and all three of them drop their mouths open. 

"So then why would she go?" Mav asks genuinely confused. Jake lets out a humorless laugh and looks at the ground. 

"She said that telling them she isn't ready would be career suicide and that she would just lock the feelings away." He answers, his teeth sinking into his lower lip to stop it from trembling. "I knew it was bullshit, but I didn't push it. I shouldn't have let her go."

In an instant, the three of them are voicing their disagreements with the statement. "Jake you know better than anyone that you can't stop her from doing something she's set on. This isn't your fault." Bradley assures him. 

He hears the words but they don't do anything to soothe him. 

"Tell you what, go take a shower and well eat. I'll call Ice and see what I can find out." Mav offers and Jake nods. 

He watches as the younger pilot walks off and pulls out his phone. 

Mavs eyes close and he pinches the bridge of his nose as Ice explains the situation. 

"It's been almost a month. They want to pronounce her dead and move on. I'll see what I can do to extend that timeline, but once it hits the three month mark they're going to call it. I wont be able to get any more time than that." Ice tells him solemnly and Mav can't believe his ears. 

"So she goes missing serving her country and just like that, she's written off?" He asks angrily and Ice sighs. 

"I'll let you know when I know more. But between me and you, it doesn't look good. Even if she is alive, she's probably wishing to be killed." He says and the two men hang up. 

Jake comes down the stairs and looks at Mav with a hopeful expression. It makes his heart sink and he takes a deep breath, preparing to rip out the aviator's heart all over again. 

"We don't know anything except that they want her pronounced dead." He murmurs and rage instantly floods Jake's nervous system. He goes to argue but Mav continues. 

"Ice is trying to have that timeline moved to three months, but after that, they're going to stop looking." He forces out and Jake's knees nearly buckle.

Whatever happened, it must be pretty fucking bad for them to give up that quickly. It means they have next to no hope of finding you alive. 

Bradley shakes his head and scoffs. "We'll fight for her, Jake. Don't worry." 

Jake gives him a grateful smile and sits down to eat. He doesn't consume much, mostly playing with his food as his stomach does flips. 

"Come back to work." Phoenix says and Jake looks at her like she's crazy. "I know, but it'll help keep you distracted. Sitting here drinking yourself to death isn't helping anybody." 

He looks like he's going to protest but relents. Maybe she's right. "Okay, I'll be in tomorrow." He mutters and she gives him a warm smile. 

They all give him a hug and bid their goodbyes with one last reassurance. He climbs the stairs, his feet feeling like lead. Just like every night since you left, he crawls into bed and cuddles your pillow. It smells less like you now, and he's been spraying it with your perfume. 

He momentarily wonders if you'll be mad about your tear-stained pillowcases before pushing the thought to the back of his mind. He'd do anything to hear your voice right now, even if you're yelling at him. 

He pulls out his phone, swiping through pictures and videos of your smiling face, and the heavy feeling in his chest eases the slightest bit. He stays like that for hours, playing old voicemails and re-reading texts before exhaustion overtakes him. 

They'll find you, he tries to convince himself. They have to.

@drakelover78  @manyfandomsfanvergent @ssprayberrythings @disturbedbeautywrites @desert-fern @one-sweet-gubler @callmemana  @luckyladycreator2 @bookchik26 @taytaylala12 @michalkasimp @xoxabs88xox @loveless-simp @withakindheartx @formulapierre @ccristata @shanimallina87 @k-k0129 @izz-ayes-world  @kajjaka @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @phantomxoxo @rosiahills22 @gspenc @chair-things @benhardysdrumstick @cookielovesbook-akie @dempy @wellshit6 @zbeez-outlet @sopheeg @callsign-milano @gizmodear @cornishkat @fox-bee926

#jake seresin #top gun maverick #top gun imagine #hangman top gun #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin top gun #jake seresin series #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin angst #hangman imagine #hangman angst #hangman x reader

[inkpot909]

Little Sister Figure Headcanons: Platonic!Joseph Joestar x Reader

Fem!Reader with she/her pronouns. The Reader’s boss is written to be a jerk.

A/n: It feels great to be writing again! I took a massive break for the holidays, and in order to give myself time adjusting to a new job. Writing this was rather personal to me in a sense, as Joseph very much so reminds me of my own older brother. Hope y’all enjoy. <3

Warning(s): Joseph’s pathetic complicated relationship with women. Canon-typical swearing. Period-typical sexism.

Joseph Joestar… historically does not have a positive reputation amongst women.

It’s well earned; coming off as rude at best and downright insensitive at worst. And this behavior doesn’t exclude women he hardly knows either. In fact, his brash attitude is arguably more on display around strangers.

A whistle to an attractive passerby leading to his foot being stomped on. Talking a little too loudly about how women “doing up their faces is a sort of trap” earning him harsh glances from pretty much every woman within earshot. An older woman smacking him across the face with an umbrella after a murmur about not being surprised at the lack of a ring on her left hand. Making an unfounded claim that women can’t drive well, only to have been questioned, walk back on his claim, and ultimately cultivating in a knee harshly connecting with his stomach. The list only goes on.

For every five women that brush off his comments, there’s always one who isn’t afraid to give him an immediate reality check.

You fell into the latter category upon your first meeting.

“Out of the kindness of his heart,” Joseph helped you out one day when you needed it most. New York City can be a real rough place to live, and on that day, the sins of the city turned their attention to you.

Cornered by some thugs, they demanded anything of value be handed over. It made blood drain from your face, twisting your expression into something that didn’t do much to conceal the fear you had felt.

Regardless of your explicit nervousness, you had attempted to stand your ground. Sticking to your guns, although you wouldn’t ever regret doing so, seemingly only made things worse. The thugs took no time at all roughing you up a bit, to the point where they knocked you down to the concrete ground below you.

Looking back, it seems like a stroke of fate, that Joseph Joestar happened to be walking past at that very moment.

Seemingly without much hesitancy, he jumped to your defense. It was quite the spectacle, if you’re being completely honest. His cocky attitude was only validated by his genuine intuition and strength in the fight that inevitably unfolded. Watching him in combat for the first time is something you doubt you’ll ever forget.

His actions right after the fact is also something you’re likely to never forget:

Sparks seemed to ripple off him; beginning at his fingertips only to move beyond in crackling waves. Watching this stranger move about, picking off the three men that approached you not even ten minutes ago, your quick to understand that the energy illuminating from him is more than just what you can see on the surface.

It’s unbelievable, but there’s little reason to doubt what you’re seeing with your own eyes.

All the while a grin never once disappears from his face. When he initially inserted himself into the conflict, your stomach sank. Sure, he’s quippy, but he gave the impression of a man who’s all bark and no bite.

But by now, you’ve stumbled to your feet. Standing off to the side, your body motionless, eyes widen in subtle recognition that you’d been wrong about him.

It isn’t long before the three thugs desperately scramble away from the scene, tripping over themselves trying to do so. Not wavering one bit, the brunette closely watches them run off. The intensity of his gaze was jarring compared to his goofy and outlandish behavior. And you only find yourself relaxing after he finally relaxed.

Taking a step closer to him, you lift a brow when he doesn’t at all turn to look at you. Pausing, you once again plant your feet in the position they’re in.

Despite his almost insultingly unserious demeanor during the fight, you can’t not say something to him. Even if all that leaves your mouth is a simple “thank you,” it’s not within your own morality to just ignore or disregard the actions of someone who just saved your skin.

“Uhm…” you clear your throat. The action finally prompts him to whirl around in your direction, his eyes blinking a couple times displaying dumb recognition. You continue on to tell him, “Thank you a lot. You didn’t have to do that, but you still chose to get involved anyway. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t showed up.”

You felt internally glad that, albeit briefly, you were able to voice your appreciation for his help.

He blinks some more, before bringing up a hand to the side of his face. “Wow! You look terrible!” he blurts, saying it with his entire chest.

“What?” you respond, taken aback.

“Geez, lady, look you you!” he puts his hands on his hips, bending down at the waist. The action, whether he meant to or not, fully emphasizes the size difference between you. In the moment, you certainly felt more than a little patronized. “Did you even style your hair this morning? It looks awful!”

“Of… of course I did, you jerk!” you snap back, clenching your hands into fists and shaking them wildly at him. You were far too surprised to even think of explaining to him that getting hit and shoved doesn’t keep your appearance in pristine condition.

“Whoa, whoa…” he chuckles, taking a step backwards, “What happened to being all grateful?”

“Excuse me!?”

It was a rough first impression, to say the least.

You likely couldn’t stand Joseph Joestar after the initial meeting. Well, if anyone were to ask your opinion of him, that’s what would be your immediate response.

Despite that, his willingness to help a stranger out without even properly looking at them first intrigued you a bit.

Even more so, the fact that his little found family - a kind-hearted grandmother and his fun-loving friend, Smoky -immediately took a liking to you without much hesitation.

It’s those two who you’re likely to get along with first, not quite seeing eye-to-eye with Joseph for a good while.

So what is it exactly that leads to the two of you developing more of a genuine friendship? Fighting him.

No, seriously.

Not long after your brush up with the three thugs, you and Joseph engaged in a conversation about your own strength. He told you (rather bluntly) that “although your fiery, you can’t fight for shit.”

This eventually evolved into the two of you working out together. Then, that naturally progressed into him giving you pointers when in a fight. Then, that progressed into the two of you sparring one another from time to time.

Now, that power he displayed the first time you met (hamon, you remember him calling it), wasn’t something he was willing to teach you. But Joseph was more than happy to help teach you how to hold your own in a fight at the very least.

He went on to say how dangerous New York City can be for a young woman who doesn’t know how to protect herself, but you long learned to stop listening to him when he got in the mood to lecture. And though you certainly didn’t need him to tell you about the dangers of being a woman, you know there’s a certain degree of good will to his intent.

Despite his slightly condescending attitude at the start, this proved to do a lot for your relationship the more you spent time together. He was unafraid to speak his mind, and you were unafraid to call him out. With time, he started to genuinely appreciate that about you.

He went from purely pestering you, to doing so with a much friendlier edge that expressed a deeper understanding of your own sense of humor.

And at the end of the day, after each time he works out with you, he ruffles up the hair on the top of your head and tells you good job- from a surprisingly genuine place.

Considering how your friendship began, no one could really blame you from feeling surprised with its development. And there’s been several times now when Joseph’s truly had your back in a way that really makes you remember his care:

“This is a really stupid idea.”

“Shush! Besides, you think all my ideas are bad ideas.”

“And am I wrong...?”

“Oh- Jesus- would you just shush!?” Joseph hushes you once more, his head snaping over to your direction.

“JoJo,” you frown, eyes darting back and forth between him and the subject of your concern. The two of you are hunched over, peaking over a corner inside the building where you work. It’s early in the morning too. So early, in fact, your boss is the only person besides a janitor or two who’s bound to be in the building for at least another hour. “You know I could be fired for this if he finds out I’m the one behind it. He’s already itching to-“

“Quit your worrying, would you? I’ve got it all figured out! No one blaming you for jack shit- got it?” Joseph cuts you off, tone indicating that you really shouldn’t try pressing the matter further. Turning his attention back forwards, he adds, “Now, will you please zip it!?”

“But surely this is taking it a step too far,” you push it further, “When I told you about my boss-“

“A money-hungry and endlessly rude person,” he quotes your own words exactly.

“-I just needed to vent to someone about it. I wasn’t necessarily asking for petty revenge.”

“Don’t call my hamon traps petty!”

“You use it for petty reasons!”

“Oh? So now helping you is petty!?” Joseph raises his voice a little.

You’re quick to match the tone of his voice, “It’s fine that you want to help me, but I’m having a lot of seconds thoughts about this!”

“Well, that’s clearly obvious…”

“Please...” you groan, “Just... reconsider...”

“It’s too late to reconsider!”

“Well, you-“

A booming voice, coming from just a few feet away from the two of you, cuts off your words, “What the hell is going on over here!?”

Like two dear in headlights, you and Joseph slowly turn your heads over to the hall before you. There, your boss stands with an angry and slightly bewildered expression. Neither you nor Joseph heard his approaching footsteps over the sound of your bickering. And your boss is just moments away from looking close enough to recognize you- meaning your just seconds away from likely losing your job....

Luckily, a few seconds is all a person like Joseph needs to react.

Suddenly, he stands up straight and puts his hands triumphantly on his hips. “I-“ he announces, your boss looking up at him with wide eyes, “-harbor a grudge against this stupid establishment! Starting with-“ he dramatically turns to point at you, “-This young woman!”

Before your boss can react- hell, before you can react -Joseph grabs you by the waist and hoists you over his shoulder as if keeping you hostage. The sound you make when he does so certainly sells it.

This is his idea of having everything figured out!?

Laughing loudly, Joseph rushes past your boss cackling as if he’s trying out for a roll as a cartoonish burglar. As he moves away, he yells out, “Your next line will be, “What in the hell is this!?’”

And as you’ve come to expect, those same words almost immediately left your boss’s mouth.

The lecture that Granny Erina had in store for him after she finally found out about that stunt... oh, it was priceless.

He took the fall completely, even though you tried voicing your own involvement. Yes, you weren’t totally on board in at the end, but you still were a part of the ordeal.

Regardless, Joseph was having none of it.

And that’s exactly how he is with you. Cheekily looking after you in a profoundly brotherly way that after that specific incident, you began to refer to him as such. To your delight, he gladly returns the sentiment.

A part of you is hesitant to admit it, but you really look up to him. He’s taught you much, not just about being a fighter, but on anything that crossed his mind. Everything from his own thought process, to how to “properly” prepare an afternoon snack.

And in return, he’s always at your side and eager to listen to whatever thought crosses your mind.

Looking back, it seems like just as the two of you truly became so close, you were completely blindsided by an entire month of complete radio silence from him. It’s as if he’d just packed up and left... and it really broke your heart.

With more time passing, and one false death report later, Joseph was in for the lecture of a lifetime. He thought he’d gone through the ringer, from his grandmother alone, but nothing beats the frustrated ranting from a younger sister.

“Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“Do you have any idea how worried I was about you!?”

“Next time someone threatens your life send me a telegram! Write me a letter for crying out loud! I would’ve went to Italy straight away to kick their asses myself!”

“Don’t you dare ever leave me out of the loop again- you hear me, Joestar!?”

Joseph’s never going to forget a single word it.

And as frustrated you were, the look on your face when he also admitted to getting married without your knowledge on top of all that... he’s very lucky you love him like family.

#johnny’s work #jjba #jojo’s bizarre adventure #battle tendency #joseph joestar #joseph joestar x reader #platonic reader #fem reader #fluff #sfw #headcanons #fanfiction #manga #anime #smokey brown #erina joestar #drabbles #writing

[writtenbywings]

Battle Scars

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Draco Malfoy

Summary: Returning to Hogwarts as a professor, Hermione bitterly encounters Draco Malfoy as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, throwing everything into chaos.

Hatred and lust slowly begins to burn between them, though only as they recall their final, secret year at Hogwarts.

Chapter word count: 2.8k

AO3 Link: Click Here

Fanfiction Link: Click Here

Type: Lemony, lemon, lemon---ade. Smutty lemonade. 

CHAPTER SEVEN

Year 7 Flashback

Excuses are what we need to get through life. Tiny little pockets of gold that free us from the tormenting thoughts that keep us up at night. I wouldn't know where I'd be without excuses, without the ability to rectify my decisions, my actions, with lying reason.

And I had lied all week, keeping my experience with Draco Malfoy in Slytherin Tower a secret, even to my two truest friends. Perhaps because it felt good to keep something just for myself, or maybe because they would look at me with a different set of eyes if they knew I had allowed him in… penetrating my protective bubble.

Draco had redeemed himself to somewhat of a degree in Harry's eyes, especially after he had fought with us, opposed to against us, when we battled Voldemort. Though Ron was unshaken. His brother had been killed. His family had been torn apart. And blood was harder to wash off of a conscience than a few bad memories.

Harry would have understood with less hatred.

Ron would have just hated, and hated… and hated some more.

Alas, Ginny could tell something was different. She noticed me flushing in the face whenever a seventh year came passed, dressed in emerald robes. Though I hadn't said much, other than that I felt a little sick and shaky, and maybe the nerves of my unfinished homework was weighing too close to home.

As Thursday came around, six days after our secret meeting, I saw Malfoy standing in the courtyard, talking to Isobel Wretching. She was a pretty girl with blonde hair and fluttery, doe-eyes. A student who would have been better suited for Hufflepuff, opposed to Slytherin. Though it was her fathers affiliation with the dark arts that caused the sorting hat to take an unexpected turn, and one that saw a brief relationship with Draco, in question.

I saw him smirk, the bruising on his face now alleviated entirely. He wore his shirt sleeves down during the day, not wanting to show off that Death Eater mark. Though Isobel was reaching over, playing with his hand.

The image I'd been keeping of him in my head burned to nothing, and I walked past with a vigor that rustled a small wind, alerting him as I went.

Really, what was I expecting? I didn't want us to be friends outside of our arrangement, though I didn't expected to be toyed with. I was Hermione Granger, not some common room slut. If his… areas… were touching other… areas… I didn't want them near mine!

I thought of myself as a virgin, if not for the few times with Ronald.

Though I doubt they could be considered as sex, as they included no passion, no romance, no touching of the explicit kind. It was just a romp on his bed after quidditch practice, and then another time at The Burrow, when I'd been wearing a little dress and we'd let the mood take us. But still, I'd never… orgasmed. He did. But I had just rocked about on the bed for the best part of ten minutes.

If I ever had experienced a climax in life – not involving the happiness I got from a new book – it would have been in private, with one of those vibrating wands from Va-Va-Broom. And I'd never expect Draco Malfoy to be able to deliver anything other than selfishness, so what was I expecting? A bit of loyalty… from the man who nearly killed Dumbledore?

My thoughts continued to hiss like a hot kettle, and continued well into even the night.

Friday morning came, and Draco didn't so much as glance my way in The Great Hall. I shamefully tried to steal a glance, one that would confirm I hadn't made up everything in my head, though as Isobel Wretching flaunted herself over his lap, feeding him a grape from the bouquet on the table, I stood and marched across the room.

I'd been played. A fool.

It was the one day I performed poorly in Potions class, and messed up an entire batch of Sickleweed Milk. A little elixir meant to cure Fizzlebumps. The cauldron exploded and one of the Ravenclaw girls had to go to the hospital wing, riddled with pimples.

I'd been given another free pass, and sent to Hagrid's for the afternoon, to help tend to a few of the magical creatures kept near his hut. I said nothing, letting him prattle on about his dealings in Scotland, and picked the feathers of a pheasant to feed to three untamed creatures. The professors were essentially letting me off every bad mistake I came to make, and for what… because I helped save the school? Or because they knew I was traumatized?

I was beginning to feel like a victim, and not the girl who could cast without a wand.

"I'm going to bed early." I told Hagrid, just as the sky began to darken. He bid me farewell, and watched as I climbed the steps to the castle, not even bothering to have dinner in the Great Hall. In my dormitory, I had a few leftover boxes of chicken pastries, quickly heating one with a spell that cooked it well, tucking into it between a soapy shower and getting my bag ready for the weekend.

I was meant to be visiting mum and dad in London, after the ministry reversed my memory spell on them. It would take a few more sessions to regain their full memory of me, though they were getting better with every visit.

Dad remembered my birthday a few weeks ago, and mum had managed to cook my favorite dinner. Small steps, though big with this kind of magic.

I paced the length of my room, searching for my dress robes, when I remembered I had left my witch's hat and cape in the common room, by the fireplace.

Lord have mercy.

I glanced at the clock and saw it was just after seven o'clock, and that most of the students would be having dessert by now. The girl's dormitory was empty, and I would have a chance to sneak and grab it, after my shower.

Still, I wanted to be careful.

I exchanged that fluffy, white towel for my pleated skirt and white button up shirt, not bothering with tights or a bralette. Though I did take a minute to slip into my knickers.

I crept downstairs, snatched up the bundle of black fabric strewn over the armchair, and ran back up within the matter of sixty seconds.

Clearly, it wasn't enough time.

As I bolted the door, wanting to change before the girls had chance to return, I saw the window ajar– the light breeze rustling the papers on Ikera's writing desk. Her owl fluttered in its cage, and made the wet ends of my hair brush icily against my breasts. I ran over and went to clasp it shut, though as I did, I saw a figure lounging on one of the beds.

It was Draco.

"What the hell are you doing in here? These are forbidden quarters to a Slytherin, let alone a boy!" I yelled, reaching for that towel to cover my chest. I was suddenly aware of how hard my nipples were.

Draco had an arm tucked casually behind his head, dressed in a white shirt similar to mine, the buttons loosely fastened. His emerald tie amiss.

"I knew you would back out of our arrangement, and I wanted to come remind you of what we agreed on." He said, playing with a smirk the way he had played with me last Friday.

"You're right." I spat. "I wasn't going to meet you, after I'd seen it was nothing but a cruel joke to you. I couldn't be bothered with your games."

At this, he sat up, bridging toward the edge of Ashley Wellings bed. Her teddy bear looking skeptical beside his hand as it tightened into the mattress.

"This isn't a game to me, Hermione."

Again, the use of my name felt like a slap, and I'd almost prefer him to use the insult. Mudblood. At least I could expect it.

"Friday night. I'm your distraction. We keep to the plan as follows."

"I don't want you to be my anything if you're going to be sleeping around. I don't know what diseases you'll be collecting."

He almost grinned, almost– if it wasn't for the seriousness he read in my glare.

"I'm not shagging Isobel Wretching. I'm not shagging anyone."

My breathing stilled, and I didn't know whether to believe him. What good would he have in lying? I would find out eventually… women always found out. Though with the way he now stood from the bed, sauntering over, narrowing the space between us, I allowed myself to believe him. If not to keep him right here, standing in front of me, but because I did, truly – honestly, really – feel distracted for the first time.

"The door is locked." I managed to say, just a whisper.

It was my way of saying I agreed, I consented.

His eyes didn't leave mine, but he nodded very slowly.

"My hair is too wet… to go to the tower." I followed on, as his eyes dragged down my tendrils of wet curls, my chest as it was still disguised beneath that towel.

"And… although me and Ron have partaken in things in the past, I really don't—"

"Drop the towel." He said, cutting me off.

I swallowed loudly, unable to move my gaze from his very serious, blue one. My fingers unlocked from their hold, and the towel fell as a bundle of white to the floor, revealing my crinkled white skirt, and the alert pinch of my pink nipples, visible now as the damp from my hair made the material transparent. He reached down and unclasped the first few buttons, my breasts – that had gotten so much more fuller in the past year – falling out, making me gasp as a wind tousled through the open window.

He had climbed the wisteria on the outskirts of the building, all to come up and here and see me. He wasn't playing any games. Not when his pride was so obviously dropped.

The Malfoy name coincided with pride.

He circled back to Ashley Wellings bed, and sat himself back on its edge, crooking a finger and beckoning me forward. A bright and immediate blush rose to my cheeks as I sauntered forward, my breasts bouncing as I did.

He held up a hand and I stopped.

No better than a dog.

An owl.

"Are you wearing anything under that skirt?"

"Yes."

"Good."

In a sudden twist of movement, he clambered his hands around my back and pulled me into his lap, causing me to gasp. I resisted the urge to squeal– I was not that girl. Though I could only swallow the saliva as it pooled in my mouth, watching as he laid himself onto the mattress, staring at me and my perky, upright breasts, in my school uniform.

With two, great hands he planted them on my rear and pushed me with such force, I slid up his body and stopped with my wet, slick underwear rubbing along his face. I jerked forward as his nose rubbed into my clit, and grabbed the bannister of the bed, lifting myself from his face with apology.

Though no, this is what he wanted.

"Sit back down." He ordered, in a voice that was as wilful as magic.

I felt obliged, if not under a spell, to do as he commanded.

With a tear, I felt his hands pull the cotton of my panties free, throwing the shredded material to a discarded corner of the room. Then, he perched me willingly onto his mouth, and with the most pained cry I'd ever released, I shivered dramatically as he began licking my folds.

The pleasure shocked me so much, I lifted up again, though Draco wasn't having any of that. He forced me back down with his hands, now holding my waist and hips like a seatbelt, making my tits thrust upwards as I bucked and grinded, unable to stand it.

"Oh my god… oh my god… Oh, god… Oh my… Oh." I whispered feverishly, biting my fingers, then grabbing the bed, then grabbing at his white wisps of hair between my thighs, then back again to my mouth to chew. I felt it deep within my stomach as tension built, his tongue slithering from my pussy hole, up my clit, and back again. Wagging like a dog's tail, flicking that bundle of nerves that hadn't been teased by anything other than my small hand, or that vibrating wand.

Though this wasn't a wand… this wasn't skin… this was wet, slithering skill. This was an ice cream in the boiling heat, a puddle on dry pavement– a forbidden lust, making it only tastier. The noise he released made me wonder if he could breathe, as I'd gotten so slick so quickly, it must now be soaking his face, his nose, his jaw. Though I didn't care– selfishly, all I could see, feel, hear and breathe was the aching, unconventional desire to cum.

I needed it so much, I began sliding my cunt against his face, grinding against his nose as if it were a bump in the road– feeling the breeze as it came from the window and ruffled the end of my skirt, exposing my rear. As if he knew, he let go of my waist entirely, and planted his hands like two dinner plates against my ass, squeezing and slapping, knowing I wouldn't leave now even if I had the capability.

I'd never leave.

I never wanted this feeling to leave.

And then, suddenly, there was pain.

Pain that cut through the pain, but somehow, only intensified it. Brought it to a new level that brought tears to my eyes, causing me to open them and stare ahead, shocked.

His thumb had made its way into that sacred little hole between my ass cheeks, degrading what I thought I knew myself to be. I wasn't as pure and white as the others had made me out to be, I wouldn't be the wife to endure one sex position in bed for the rest of my life.

I was a creature who enjoyed every morsel of humiliation when it came from the hands of my enemy. I was a mudblood. I was whatever he wanted to be, so long as he didn't stop.

I found myself backing my rear into his hand, hissing as his thumb twisted, corrupting what was left of Little Miss Granger.

The downstairs door clicked to the common room, and I could hear the girls giggling from dinner. Talking, though not quite coming up yet.

Please, I would kill them if they so much as came near this door. I needed to finish. I needed to climax. I needed to release the tension building so quickly, so fast.

"I'm close." I whimpered, which didn't change his rhythm.

I didn't want him to. His tongue was moving so perfectly already. It didn't need to accelerate or so down.

One of his hands slipped from my pert buttocks, though not the one penetrating my hole, and it pushed the skirt down from his face, revealing his blue eyes. I couldn't look at him! No, I couldn't… I couldn't come to terms with the fact it was Draco Malfoy about to get me so far, and it was Draco Malfoy with his tongue buried deep into my cunt.

I threw my head back, feeling that hand now on my breast, pulling my nipple so hard I thought it might pinch off. He devoured me like a machine, with a bit of him– other than his cock– everywhere. And he watched with the lowest, predatory growl, as I overcame the hurdle and came.

I reached forward and grabbed Ashley's teddy bear, stuffing it into my mouth and biting down hard, knowing whatever scream left my mouth would alert everyone downstairs. My stomach clenched in as I shook and trembled, tightening my asshole around his thumb, releasing my juices in hot, sweaty relief.

I couldn't remember saying his name, though the long, whiny, drawn out word 'fuck' came as a mewl, softer than any kitten. Like a doll, I collapsed senselessly to his side, quivering only slightly.

I could see his cock was rock hard within his trousers, and his face was a shiny mess.

The scent of my arousal was everywhere.

I could hardly breathe.

"Unforgivable." He said, swallowing what I could only imagine was more of me.

"Hmm?" I barely mumbled, still panting.

"The word we're using whenever we need this. No questions asked."

"Unforgivable." I said, a little drunk on ecstasy.

"Good girl." 

#fanfiction #draco malfoy #dramione #hermione granger #hermione x draco #draco fanfiction #draco x hermione #dracotok #draco malfoy fanfiction #hermione fanfiction #hp fanfic #hogwarts #hp fandom

[darklinaforever]

She's talking about this scene ?!

But it's ridiculous ! This scene doesn't prove that Donna is inside of the mind of Tentoo ?! It's simply a scene where the Doctor finally understands essentially how much Donna sees herself as less than nothing ! Tentoo doesn't feel everything Donna feels literally, that's bullshit. Already, he's talking about what she thinks, not what she feels. The "I can see Donna, what you're thinking" is literally just an expression (which I've seen used countless times in the sort of moment where one person understands another…) ? We literally see in this scene that Tentoo is thinking about his own memories, and not Donna's, which is what we would have seen if he saw in his head ?! It's literally explained in the rest of the episode that Tentoo received Donna's DNA, but it was she who received his mind (which she judges to be the Doctor's best) ! And to get back to that delusion of “I can see it Donna, what you’re thinking”. You know what further proves that this sentence was simply an expression on the Doctor's part to express that he finally understands Donna ? THE FACT THAT SHE GIVES IDEAS THAT NEITHER TEN NOR TENTOO HAVE NEVER THOUGHT OF AND THAT THEY ARE PLEASANTLY SURPRISED TO HEAR ! If Tentoo is in Donna's head, why the hell doesn't he have the same ideas as her ?! Or why is he even surprised by it ?!

Also, isn't the Doctor a basic fucking telepath ? If you want to take the phrase in its most literal sense possible there is literally this, the fact that the Doctor literally has the ability to read the minds of basic people ! (Even though this is meant to be a violation, the Doctor has just been reborn with some minimal changes, perhaps he felt legitimate in that context ? After all, he's a more impulsive version of Ten. Although I just think the phrase was nothing more than a simple expression) So how is this supposed to be proof that Donna is inside Tentoo on a mental level ?!

Also, I would like to remind you that the basis of regeneration inevitably involves changes each time. So to say that Tentoo can't be the Doctor because he doesn't act the same as Ten is completely ridiculous. Especially when we assume that the Doctor naturally changes personality with each incarnation. Tentoo is bound to have slight differences from Ten because he went through the regeneration process ! Tentoo, it's Ten who has evolved ! He was born during a battle, which influences his impulsiveness. He was born from the moment he ran towards Rose on that street, which explains why he looks more amused/less serious than Ten. He is part human, which influences his decision to commit genocide because he no longer has the restrictions he had as a Time Lord. He speaks slightly like Donna (during only one fucking comedy moment ?), well the Doctor has always picked up things from his companions, like Rose's accent or Clara's postures/gestural tics. Was he less the Doctor than the previous incarnation ? I do not think so ! Also, I would like to understand how Tentoo, beyond what I have stated, seems fundamentally different from Ten ? Beyond the humorous moment with Donna, he has the same way of expressing himself as he always has and also has the same physical / vocal expressions as Ten ?! How is it fundamentally different ?! How does Donna seem to have any mental influence on Tentoo ?!

Seriously, find me a single scene where Donna seems to have a mental influence on Tentoo that makes him act differently than usual ? (apart from this brief comic moment where he speaks like her) Don't you think ? Normal ! He does not have it ! Tentoo says it himself ! He thinks like Ten ! Not like Donna ! (Supported once again by the gifs above where Ten and Tentoo are surprised by what Donna is thinking !)

Please people, share in the comments, because I'm big on bullshit. Who ever thought Donna was a part of Tentoo's mind with this scene ? Seriously ? Has anyone ever thought of this scene as anything other than a simple expression of ultimate understanding between two friends ?! Someone answer me !

#Youtube #tentoo #the metacrisis doctor #the tentoo doctor #tentoorose #rose x tentoo #tentoo x rose #rose and tentoo #tentoo and rose #donna noble #rose tyler #the doctor #doctor who #the tenth doctor #the 10th doctor #ten #the ninth doctor #the 9th doctor #nine #tenrose #ten x rose #rose x ten #ten and rose #rose and ten #ninerose #nine x rose #rose x nine #nine and rose #rose and nine #tentoo is not half donna

[sjofn-lofnsdottr]

Alright, I am going to TRY to do a BRIEF overview of Dusk's backstory, I guess. Just hit the highlights, up until he started actually adventuring. I will tell myself I can expand on everything later. Later!

Here's a picture that has nothing to do with anything, just because I like having a picture above the fold:

Alright, first off, Dusk's real name is Bellinor, and his sister is Oriane. Their father, when they were very small, started calling them Dusk and Dawn for reasons he never explained, and it stuck. Their grandparents use their given names, and basically no one else does.

He was born in Ishgard. I have thought a lot about his family and where they were in the Ishgardian hierarchy, but I am being BRIEF, so suffice to say, the fanciest of his relatives is his maternal grandmother, who was a knight in service to house Haillenarte.

His father is a spearman, and when Dusk and Dawn were eight or so, he began to train them how to use it. Their mother, a chirurgeon who was starting to break under the strain of being a healer in a Forever War, was still taken by surprise by how visceral a negative reaction she had to this. After talking it over with her husband, they began to plot an extreeeeemely slow desertion from the city. The timing turned out pretty good ... they were finally intending to leave for good when the twins were ten (who had no idea, of course) and during their very last trip outside of the city as a sort of dry run ... the Gates closed, and they couldn't go back, even if they had wanted to.

Dusk never thought of himself as not-Ishgardian, in spite of spending so much more of his life outside of the city than inside it, and he understands why his parents left, even if it was confusing and scary at the time. Unfortunately, part of why it was scary was ... they had fled to Gridania. I have a lot to say about his adolescence being spent in pre-Calamity Gridania and the stresses involved, but suffice to say ... sure, there were no dragons trying to kill them, but at least the dragons were somewhat predictable. The elementals were not.

Dusk and Dawn's parents never wanted them to have to fight, even though their father did continue their training with spears. Just in case. After the Calamity, the twins travelled to Limsa Lominsa. The plan had been for Dusk - who was already a fairly good carpenter - to train as a blacksmith there to supplement his skills. Dawn, a botanist, went with him for company, and just to spread her wings a little, the Calamity giving her an urge to travel while she could. Neither intended to adventure, although they were certainly dressed the part, the whole family still in the habit of being Ever Vigilant. None of them want to be caught unarmed when shit hits the fan, if you will.

As a result, though, while they were bumbling around the city trying to figure out who to even talk to, H'naanza spotted them, and thought they were new adventurers. She called them over and asked them to kill some wharf rats. Dusk agreed to it without correcting her, which made Dawn feel too awkward to correct her herself, and it all kind of spiraled from there.

It all worked out, at least.

I generally follow canon as far as his actual WoL career goes, filling in headcanon in the spaces the narrative itself provides. The biggest 'change' that isn't really a change regards his twin. Dawn, who also has the Echo, did not want to be a Scion, but she is extremely protective of her brother. So when it makes sense in my mind for her to be around, being very clear she is helping him and not the Scions, she's there. The big exception is Shadowbringers ... she's stuck at home and hating every second of it.

He was 30 when the Calamity hit, and was 35 when ARR began. I'm a one expansion = one year person ... except again for Shadowbringers, which in the Source timeline I think of only having happened in a couple of weeks. Which means he'll be turning 40 when 7.0 hits, I'm sure he's excited.

#ffxiv #ffxiv oc #just dusk #character ramblings #I meant it when I said he will Always Help #Dawn's kind of in denial on the Scion front

[gmariam19]

Poe misses Finn. His best friend and co-general has thrown himself into Jedi training with grim determination, and Poe has barely seen or talked to Finn for weeks. Rey thinks she knows what's really going on. Though Poe is skeptical, he talks to Finn and finds more than he could have possibly hoped for.

I actually did it! After ten months, I finally finished and posted a story! It's total fluff, but it's Finnpoe, what can I say? I like my Finnpoe schmoop! Here's an excerpt below - enjoy and thanks for reading! :)

“Hey,” says a voice behind them, slightly breathless. They both turn around with a guilty start to find Finn walking into the clearing. Poe exchanges a look with Rey, who cocks her head and gets that faraway look on her face that means she’s using the Force. This time Finn rolls his eyes.

“Stay out of my head,” he grumbles, and Poe nods in agreement.

“I told her the same thing,” he says, and Rey gives him an annoyed look before narrowing her eyes at them both.

“I don’t need to read anyone’s mind here to know exactly what’s going on,” she says. “Finn, good job on the training run. Poe, you know what to do.”

And with that she turns and walks away, leaving Poe standing there staring after her and completely speechless.

“You have no idea what to do, do you?” asks Finn in the dry way he has. He’s also got that skeptical look on his face that Poe loves, even when it’s directed at him.

“I hate it when she does that,” Poe mutters. “It’s like she can see the future but can’t bother to tell the rest of us how to get there.”

Finn actually smiles, one of the first genuine smiles Poe has seen in a while. “I think that’s exactly it. So what do you think she sees?” he asks. “What were you talking about?”

Poe turns toward him, tongue-tied. He’s not sure what Rey expects him to say, since she left before they could finish talking about it. Rey thinks Finn has feelings for Poe, but it’s not like Poe can come right out and ask…can he?

“We were talking about you,” he starts, then quickly amends it when Finn frowns. “Well, us. About you and me. Sort of. Rey thinks…well, um…”

Finn looks uncomfortable, crosses his arms over his chest. “She thinks what?”

Poe laughs nervously. “Rey thinks a lot of crazy things sometimes. You know Rey. I don’t know what to think, so I’m gonna ask. Finn, are you upset with me?” It comes out in a nervous rush. “Did I do something wrong? Or do you want to train more and become a Jedi and never talk to me again because I—”

"Whoa,” Finn says, holding up a hand and clearly alarmed. “Never talk to you again? Where did that come from?”

“I hardly see you anymore,” Poe says, his shoulders falling with a sigh. “We barely talk. I can’t remember the last time we saw each other, not doing general stuff. Had a drink, ate dinner together. Did I do something wrong? Because I miss you.”

#Finnpoe #Stormpilot #Finn #Poe Dameron #Star Wars #Fanfiction #Gmariam19

[brainbuffering]

The Invisible Man and His Soon-To-Be Wife Manga Review (A: Iwatobineko T: Elena Kirilovna L: Vanessa Satone E: Kristina Korpus)

[ID: English Book cover of The Invisible Man And His Soon-To-Be Wife by Iwatobineko Vol 1. An invisible man in a pin stripe suit and polka dot tie sits on a plush green leather sofa. He reads a book in one hand, and holds the hand of the young woman next to him with the other. The girl has a red/brown bob cut, and wears a long black skirt with a matching black sweater-vest over the top of an untucked cream blouse. Her eyes are closed, and her spare hand grasps her skirt in her lap. Text in calligraphy underneath reads “we were meant to be together.” END ID]

I put this book as my most anticipated for 2023 and so when it finally came out I felt honour bound to write an immediate review! As I said before, I am always on the look out for new series with disabled characters in the lead and as a fan of goofy and cheesy romance this one did look promising! 

The story is a series of short comics following Yakou Shizuka – a young visually impaired/legally blind woman who works as an assistant at a detective agency – and her boss Tounome Akira – a dapper detective whose body is invisible. The series takes place in an 'anything goes' fantasy world that combines Furries, Elves and Aliens in a seamless melting pot. So if you're looking for a serious detective story, this is not the series for you. The "cases" exist mostly for humour's sake, without any sort of reward or character development put in place through them. 

Artistically the series stands out due to its use of sky blue backgrounds. Whilst it definitely makes for a visually pleasing alternative after reading lots of just black and white manga, it does equally feel like a little bit of a cheat's way out of drawing backgrounds. A stone I throw knowing full well that I live in a glass house. I do think that Iwatobineko did an excellent job of drawing all of Tounome's suits though, so if you're a fan of dapper men in dapper suits, it's definitely worth taking a look at. 

I love the concept of a person who cannot be seen falling in love with someone who cannot see. Whilst the series plays into the "I lack one sense so all my other senses are increased ten fold" trope I don't mind it in a fantasy setting, especially as it still presents Yakou's disability as something very real. It's interesting to note that the series only presents her disability as a problem for her in relation to how other people behave. She would not have had a problem walking to work if someone hadn't thoughtlessly left their bike in the middle of the road. If nobody had sat in her preferred spot then she'd never have sat down in someone's lap! It presents these things in a light hearted way, appropriate to the tone of the series, but still does – in my opinion – an honest job of pointing out that it is not always disabilities that are debilitating, but rather having to live in a world where able-bodied people do not take your needs into account.

I also appreciated how Tounome's invisibility was presented as often disabling. Whilst Yakou suffers from bumping into unexpected objects, Tounome is the one being bumped into by strangers. He also struggles to take care of himself sometimes due to not being able to see his own body, something that he and Yakou bond over. With only one volume out so far, we're only just scratching the surface of what sort of stories can be told but I think so far it's off to a strong start.

I am not visually impaired (although my MG does cause intermittent double vision so I suppose jury's out on that one) so I cannot judge in terms of whether the series offers good representation or not, however I was happy to see that Iwatobineko did their research. In the back material they talk about how they consulted numerous visually impaired people at the Kansai Student Library (http://kansaisl.web.fc2.com) before writing the series. This research shows through in the little things, such as Yakou's use of assistive technology in both her day-to-day life and her workplace. 

I appreciated that in the opening page when describing the world that these characters exist in we see not only a crowd of different fantasy races, but multiple disabled characters too! Including what I am going to insist is a cameo of Yuki and Itsuomi from "A Sign of Affection". 

I would add that the series does feature a "Dark Elf" and "White Elf" couple, where the male "Dark Elf" is the only recurring character with dark skin. Many before me have spoken of the inherent problematic nature of "Dark Elves" as a concept. The choice to use "White Elf" as the social counterpoint rather than "Light Elf" is perhaps a little troubling, especially since the series leans into the couple being seen as deviant in the eyes of elf society. The couple themselves are the manga trope of "Husband is a goofball who can't read the room, and the wife is a sophisticated beauty who will drag him away violently by the collar" so I don't feel as though they're falling into any particular racial stereotypes, but this is absolutely a "Your Mileage May Vary" situation that I don't feel qualified to speak on with any authority. I'd be very interested to hear the opinions of BIPOC folks on this one though! 

Other than the decision to go with "White Elf" over "Light Elf" (although I am still not certain which would be best and would be happy to take consultation on that one!) I felt as though the translation read very smoothly, and everyone had Very clear characterisation. The lettering was solid, and I enjoyed how different typefaces were used throughout to convert tone of voice. I felt as though it helped to aid with the characterisation and humour of the series. 

On the whole, I don't think that this manga is going to be any sort of game changer. It's a fun little series of sweet romance stories about an engaging couple but doesn't really go anywhere beyond that. Whilst I do want to see how their relationship develops, I am not routing for them in the same way I route for – say – Kyo and Tohru from Fruits Basket. If you're looking for a romance featuring disabled characters that has a little more depth to it than "I Hear the Sunspot" would probably be more your speed. 

However, true equality is that there are just as many light hearted romcoms about disabled folks as there are about able-bodied ones! Whilst I wouldn't say that you should rush out and buy the series immediately, if you're looking for some non heteronormative stories that explore romance between disabled people it is something I would recommend reading. 

I would give it a solid 3 stars in total! 

#manga #The Invisible Man And His Soon To Be Wife #review #actually disabled #disabled characters #blog post

[direwolfrules]

3 Mandos and a Baby AU: The One Where Fenn Purposefully Adopts A Child

So, while nonsense is happening on Aq Vetina Fenn and a squadron of Protectors are dispatched to Corellia on an escort mission of great importance. Mandalmotors executive Jaor Ordo and senior member of the Ministry of Defense Korast Eldar are to meet with a Corellian ship company to negotiate a joint project.

Korkie decided that just Kom’rks and Fang-class fighters aren’t enough for the Mandalorian fleet. He wants something like the old Kandosii-class Dreadnoughts, just without the obvious weakness to the hyperdrive. Also, he wants a dedicated transport network to move civilians around Mandalorian space, especially now that the young Mand’alor’s Meshgeroya league is finally getting off the ground. Beer and circuses.

The initial meeting goes well, and as they’re heading back to the hotel Fenn hears noises from a nearby alley. He sends the squad on ahead while he checks it out.

Fenn sneaks up quietly to assess the situation and finds a bunch of scrumrats beating up a younger kid. Before he can make his presence known and come to the ad’ika’s aid some feral kid comes barreling in to try and help and just winds up being beaten by the gang instead. At this point Fenn does intervene, shouting “HEY” with his helmet’s vocoder turned all the way up. All the kids scatter, including the brave little one who jumped in to help the other.

A few days later negotiations are wrapping up really nicely. As they’re leaving the Corellian company’s office building a kid manages to slip through their guard perimeter and steal Eldar’s datapad. A datapad that contains so many state secrets, why the hell was it out, by the Ka’ra Korast!

Fenn and most of the other Protectors pursue the kid right down to the Den of the White Worms. Lady Proxima is yelling at the kid who brought the datapad down because he was supposed to steal a piece of beskar from the Mandalorians, not a datapad. Moloch goes to hit the boy when another kid steps between them and takes the blow. Fenn recognizes him as the kid from before – the one who jumped into a street fight he had no chance of winning to help out another kid – and his Mandalorian adoption instincts activate.

It’s bit of a fight, the Protectors take down Proxima’s enforcers and call the Corellian authorities to arrest them, and then they turn their attention to the kids. The feral child who keeps putting himself in danger to save others is standing between the Protectors and the younger kids.

Fenn manages to convince the boy, whose name is Han, that he’s not a threat and they take all the kids back to the hotel to sort things out. Fenn pays for like ten more hotel rooms on Korkie’s dime.

After a few days of the Protectors feeding and sheltering them without asking for anything in return some of the kids put down their guard. Han asks Fenn once, when they’re all eating dinner together, why they’re doing this. Fenn just replies that no Mandalorian worth the name would ever leave a kid to starve on the streets, it’s not honorable.

The kids start getting adopted, because over twenty Mando’ade were left alone with orphans. Garr and Ashara Peskod, seven year old twins whose parents died in an outbreak by the spaceport a year ago, get adopted by Vengo Reeves. Treka, a little Rhodian girl, gets adopted by Jaor Ordo. The human girl Han likes to hang out with, Qi’ra, gets adopted by Kaden Beviin, though she still seems fairly suspicious of the rest of the Mandos.

Han doesn’t trust Fenn that much. He can’t fathom a world in which a guy like the Protector just...cares. It’s not how things are done. Still, Han winds up talking to him more than he intends to. He tries to ignore the Mando, honest, but he always talks about such cool stuff. He even showed Han around the cockpit of his Kom’rk when he heard Han wants to be a pilot.

What really, finally gets Han to trust that Fenn is really just that nice happens on their second to last day on Corellia. Han’s suspicious of where Fenn disappears to everyday for an hour, and he manages to convince Qi’ra to cover for him while he sneaks to find out. Han watches from the air vent in Fenn’s room as the Protector holo-calls some lady named Bo.

This Bo lady moves the holocomm so a little kid lying in bed is visible and Fenn gets all extra soft and happy. The kid calls him buir and Han’s spent enough time around Mandos the past week to recognize that this kid must be Fenn’s son. Fenn sings the kid to sleep and Han’s not sure how to handle how soft and sweet and sappy the normally tough soldier gets.

Once the kid, whose name is Din, apparently, falls asleep Fenn and this Bo lady discuss what’s going on with Aq Vetina, which Han kinda remembers from the big holonews casts on some of the screens throughout the city. Apparently the Mand’alor is ready to go down to Coruscant and personally rip the Chancellor a new asshole, and when she says how proud she is of her nephew Han realizes that Bo must be Lady Bo-Katan Kryze, who he didn’t recognize without her armor. He gets kinda shocked and almost gives away his position because “holy shit Fenn’s on a nickname basis with his king’s aunt and may or may not share a child with her”.

Han refocuses on the conversation only to realize they’ve switched topics. Fenn’s now talking about some kid he kinda wants to adopt. He doesn’t want to push the kid into it but “by the Ka’ra Bo he wants to be a pilot and you should have seen him when he jumped in to save that other kid” and Han realizes with a start that the kid Fenn’s talking about is him. And Han’s…not sure how to feel about that.

He sneaks back and when Qi’ra asks him what he found out Han just tells her the truth. That Fenn wants to adopt him.

Their last day on Corellia Han just goes up to Fenn and asks “So are you going to adopt me or what?” and Fenn looks like he might cry. Han doesn’t know why he asked that, but maybe it had to do with how genuine Fenn had seemed when singing to his son, or while taking about Han.

Anyway, Fenn and company stroll back up to Mandalore with thirty two more passengers than they left with and absolutely no one is surprised. When Fenn introduces 12 year old Han to the Kryzes he’s like “this is my son, Han Rau”, and little Din runs headfirst into Han’s legs and screams “ori’vod”.

Listen, it’s my wish fulfillment stream of consciousness time travel AU and I’ll do what I want.

#star wars #korkie kryze #bo katan kryze #korkie kenobi #star wars rebels #3 mandos and a baby au #satine kryze #star wars the clone wars #han solo #qi’ra #solo: a star wars story #fenn rau #bofenn #din djarin #duchess satine #star wars au #han gets adopted by mandos #that’s it that’s the post #mandalorian Han Solo

[lastbluetardis]

Sacred New Beginnings (14/?)

Summary: James Noble thought he traded away his chance at love and a happy-ever-after when he signed a contract with a record label that turned him into an international celebrity. But a chance meeting in a dive bar may prove him wrong.

Ten x Rose AU

This Chapter: Teen, ~5900 words

AO3 || Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 |

James doesn’t remember the drive home. Apart from his desire to collapse in a boneless heap in his bed, the only thought running through his mind is Rose, and how horribly he had made her feel, yet how kindly she had treated him.

He can hardly believe he had told her he’s falling in love with her, can hardly believe that truth himself. He tries to keep his expectations low, convincing himself that he’ll be okay if Rose says she doesn’t feel the same way, or that the risk isn’t worth the reward, and yet he’s already preemptively mourning her loss.

Without recalling the route he’d taken, James pulls into his dark and empty garage and kills the engine. His house is equally dark and empty—he spares a moment of regret that he had run away from his mum and hinted that he wanted her gone from his home by the time he’d returned. He’ll have to make it up to her and explain everything that happened, but not tonight.

Zombie-like, he trudges to his bedroom, strips down to his boxer-briefs, and buries himself beneath his sheets. Sleep claims him easily, pulling him into a dreamless slumber that he does not rouse from until late the following morning, when the sun is up and his security team are ambling around downstairs, undoubtedly waiting for him to get his lazy arse up.

With the amount of work he’d gotten done yesterday, James is in no rush to get to the studio. He is well ahead of meeting the deadlines as outlined on his contract: he had signed for ten years or five studio albums, whichever came first, and he has already produced three albums over the past five years. He could easily take a year-long hiatus from songwriting and producing, but why would he? Why would he take a break from a job that brings him so much enjoyment?

Though he doesn’t expect to see her name, his heart still sinks when Rose’s name isn’t among the call or text notifications on his phone. Neither is his mother’s, and that, too, sinks his spirits. He opens his text messages with her and types, “I’m sorry I was a twat. Things are complicated right now and I need space to think. Let me take you to dinner this coming weekend? My treat.”

His mother answers almost immediately. It’s always your treat. Let me cook for you instead?

His mum, bless her heart, isn’t the best cook; she’s not awful by any means, but she doesn’t season things as well as they ought, so meals she makes tend to turn out bland. Nevertheless, he replies, “Absolutely. Can’t wait. Saturday at 6?”

I’ll pencil you in.

After that message, half a minute passes before his phone buzzes again.

I worry about you, Jamie. I just want the best for you, and I want you to be happy with your life.

The use of his old childhood pet name twists at his guts. “I am happy, Mum. Most of the time, anyway. Things are just… weird right now. Give me time. I’ll sort it out.”

Did you talk to Rose?

He sighs and rubs the heels of his hands into his sleep-gritty eyes. “Sort of. Things are weird, like I said. I’ll tell you the whole thing later. Promise.”

Okay. Have a good day at work 💖

James closes out of his phone, ignoring the dozens of other messages waiting for him. He pulls on ratty work-out clothes and clomps downstairs, where Jack and River are playing chess at his gargantuan kitchen table. They glance over at him, but wisely make no comments as he pulls on tennis shoes and descends to his home gym.

He works out lazily but for far longer than usual, and only ends his leisurely stroll on the treadmill when his stomach demands food. He powers off his equipment and makes his way upstairs, where Jack and River have shifted to a game of Scrabble.

Finally, as he is brewing a pot of coffee and putting bread in the toaster, River says, “Your mother said you had a rough couple of nights.”

“My mother is over-concerned,” he retorts, then shrugs and adds, “I’m working on it. I’ll be fine.”

“We’re just doing our job. Can’t keep you safe if you’re slipping into self-destruction.”

James winces, recalling the night when Jack had had to rush him to the hospital after a night of self-loathing-induced binge drinking. That had been years ago, and James had never gotten close to that sort of behavior since, not even the bender he’d gone on the night before last.

Still, James knows he has unhealthy coping mechanisms, and he appreciates their concern, however unwanted it is.

“I’ll be fine,” he repeats. “Really. Just a little hiccup is all.”

“Problems in paradise?” Jack asks.

“Sort of. Not in the mood to talk about it, really.”

They both shrug and get back to their game, mercifully leaving him alone for the rest of the morning before escorting him to the recording studio. With the green light from his label, James begins the recording process for the songs that will appear on his next album. There is an itch in the back of his mind, telling him that the album isn’t quite finished yet, but it’s at least 75% there, so he works on the songs he’s sure about and will fill in the gaps as they present themselves to him.

There is no set date for a launch on the record, but James thinks he’ll have it ready for post-production shortly after the holidays. It will be his quickest album by far, with a majority of it having come together in under a month. It’s an odd feeling, being so prolific, and he’s gripped with fear that his label is merely feeding his ego by telling him his new material is wonderful, when it’s actually flaming hot rubbish. It’s only by reminding himself that they won’t make any money if he produces an awful album that he keeps those nasty insecurities at bay.

Rose is woven throughout this album, present in nearly every melody and lyric as James croons love ballads and rasps out the terror of a relationship that’s on thin, breaking ice. For the songs he was allowed to write on his previous albums, he always drew from personal experience for inspiration, but this is the first time an album is capturing his present reality so completely. For a crippling moment, he’s terrified that he’s made a huge mistake, and that he should never, ever, ever let the public into his private thoughts of and experiences with Rose. But when he thinks about scrapping the album to start again, a deep sense of grief and mourning overtakes him, and his mind automatically reconstructs each song as they are. No, he doesn’t think he can throw away what he’s made, but he should at least give Rose the courtesy of telling her that much of the album is inspired by her; if she ever wants to talk to him again, that is.

While he knows she’s busy teaching, it doesn’t stop James from checking his phone every few minutes—🌹Bad Wolf Girl🌹 is never in his notifications. Since he isn’t sure if a message from him would be welcome after she asked for time to think, he doesn’t initiate contact with her and hopes she doesn’t take it as a sign that he has lost all interest in her.

oOoOo

Over the coming week, he buries himself in his work, recording the instrumentation and vocals for his new album between continued publicity for Catalysis. Despite the whirlwind press tour he had done in America, his promotional duties are far from over, since he now has to promote the film here in the UK. James is herded from interview to interview, appearing on radio and television talk shows in equal measures. He performs the main song from the film dozens of times, and it’s a good thing he loves all the music he writes, otherwise he would have grown tired of it.

He doesn’t mind these sorts of publicity events, really. It gives him an excuse to talk about other people, and to praise everyone who worked on the film. Catalysis had gotten good ratings from its American audience, and now everyone in the UK is vibrating with anticipation to also watch it. He wonders if Rose will see it; she’d expressed interest in it when he first told her he was going on a promotional tour, but perhaps this hiccup they’ve run into has soured the film for her.

Because of the nature of the film, love lives tend to come up in interviews. Before, James would have had no problem telling the truth, because the paparazzi usually had already captured most of the details. But now, he has to wrack his brain on how to talk about the relationship he isn’t even sure he has. He already hurt Rose by his blasé comment on the LA red carpet about just having a bit of fun, and he refuses to do that again.

So when a talk show host asks him how he met his current partner, James shrugs and says, “It was a happy accident. I went out for a walk, ended up at a pub, and there she was.”

He can practically see the host’s eyes sparkling with triumph that he has pulled information from him. Deciding to nip any follow-up questions in the bud, James says, “Things are still new and uncertain, so I would appreciate moving on from this subject. Cheers.”

There is no way for the host to politely continue badgering, and the disappointment is palpable as he moves on with his questions for some of the cast about the making of the film (as though they haven’t answered these questions a dozen times over by now).

While James’s response to that interview question has given the paparazzi something to needle him about, he finds he actually doesn’t give a damn about appeasing them. Why had he ever given those sharks an inch, knowing they’ll take a mile? So when his security team guides him to his car to shuffle him to his next interview appointment, James utterly ignores the crowd of paparazzi snapping his photo and shouting questions at him.

“Where did you meet her?”

“On to a female partner this time?”

“What’s her name?”

“C’mon James, you gotta give us something! Don’t be such a tease.”

He flashes them all a saccharine smile and a salute as he gets into the car. Idris glances at him through the rear-view mirror, and it’s only when she’s heard the telltale click of the seatbelt buckle that she pulls into traffic.

Beside him, River casually says, “I approve of your new method of dealing with the paparazzi.”

“I’m tired of their shit,” he says, breathing out a huge sigh and slouching into his seat. “Dunno why it’s taken me so long.”

River rests her hand on his knee and squeezes. “Good. It’s about time.”

When he first entered the public eye, he was terrified of bad publicity, terrified that he would make one wrong move and his record label would drop him before he could even try to atone. He played nice with the press, indulging in all sorts of interviews and answering any ridiculous question the paparazzi shouted at him. He figured being his true, honest self was fine, since he had nothing to hide.

But then as he gained more fame and more invitations to parties and gatherings, where he was able to sample all of the pleasures that came with celebrity status, the press got wind of some of his more unsavory, uncouth behavior. At first, he was embarrassed to have been caught in any number of compromising situations, so he would answer the media’s questions to try to set the record straight about what happened.

And then it became part of his life, having every personal moment broadcast to the world, and he didn’t have the energy to hide from the media or spin tales about his behavior. He no longer cared if his romantic nights were gossiped about, no longer cared if he was photographed drunk or high. His fans still loved him and came to his defense to normalize sex and marijuana usage, or to claim that what he did in his private life was his choice.

But now… now he’s just so tired of indulging the people who wouldn’t think twice about ruining his reputation based on rumors. Let them report what they want, but he’s no longer giving them free access to his life.

“Are you and Rose… okay?” River asks.

Though her eyes never leave the road, James can feel Idris’s attention has shifted to his answer. Jack has even angled himself in the front seat to better hear his response.

“I don’t know,” James admits. “I want us to be. But I made mistakes, and Rose needs time to think about some things. We’ll see.”

River pats his thigh, then directs her focus to Jack to go over the plan for when they make it to the next radio broadcast studio.

oOoOo

The week is long and exhausting, but so prolific that James is proud of what he’s accomplished. Three songs for the album are completely recorded, and he has the instrumental parts for three others recorded as well. He’s riding the high of productivity, so he invites a few friends he knows are in town for drinks at a pub in the middle of London. They all take him up on the offer, and within an hour he’s sat at a booth with some fellow musicians.

There’s Astrid, who is relatively new to the industry. She got her big break a year and a half ago when she won a televised singing competition and was offered a one-album deal from a record label who rents out the same recording studio as his own label. He had met her when they were both working late one night, and he had stopped into her office for a quick chat which morphed into an hour-long conversation about their careers and how overwhelming it had been to go from complete anonymity to an international celebrity overnight.

Then there’s Sally, who has largely flown under the radar but has produced some of the most soothing music he has ever listened to. She has the most enviable work-life balance, putting out a new record every two to three years, then disappearing from the public eye and living off of royalties and album sales until her next one.

Amy also tags along, though she says she has to get home a bit early since she and her husband are off to his parents’ for the weekend.

The four of them take up a private booth at the pub, with their security teams working together to keep the crowds away from them. It doesn’t matter—James sees dozens of phones pointed at them as everyone tries to snag a photograph of them all. Sally utterly ignores them, while Astrid waves brightly from afar. Amy, on the other hand, doesn’t look up from her Amaretto sour and gives them all the middle finger, to a round of raucous guffaws.

“Charming as ever,” he drawls, elbowing her in the ribs.

“I’m Scottish, can’t help it.”

They all nurse their drinks and share a large platter of starters, chatting about their work and lives. Turns out that Astrid just received word that her label signed her on for another contract, this one for three more records. She’s obviously been desperate to share the news, and James and the others shower her in praise and congratulations.

“Well, this is a celebration,” he claims, pressing an enthusiastic kiss to her forehead. “Drinks are on me.”

“Even though she’s the one with the huge signing bonus?” Amy drawls.

“Shush,” he says, pressing his finger to her lips. “We’re celebrating, and the celebratee never pays.”

Amy rolls her eyes, but then she grins and squeezes Astrid’s hands as she says, “That’s great news. Congratulations. Really well done.”

Their server brings them their second round of drinks and takes their order of more food. As James stuffs a nacho into his mouth, his phone buzzes in his pocket and a notification pops up on his smart watch. He’s inclined to ignore it, but a red rose emoji snares his attention, and he fumbles to tap the message on the watch face.

Are you busy? I’d like to talk. Can you come round my place?

James practically jumps out of the booth, garnering him three sets of confused stares.

“So sorry, something’s come up,” he says. “I’ve got to go. We should do this again soon. Astrid, really well done. I’m so proud of you. Sally, always nice to see you; let me know if you ever need anything. Amy… well, I’ll see you next week, probably?”

“Everything all right?” Amy asks.

“Yep,” he says, hoping it’s the truth. “Just some personal matter I need to address. I’ll put our tab on my card, don’t worry about paying.”

Amy lifts her glass in a toast of gratitude, while the other two women verbally thank him. James salutes them, then turns on his heel and disappears from the pub with his security team.

“I’ll drive myself, thanks,” he says, holding his hand out for the keys.

“After two drinks and only a handful of nachos? I don’t think so,” River says, pinning him with a glare that has wilted many an overenthusiastic fan or photographer. “I’ll drop you off.”

“It’s to see Rose,” he presses, gesturing again for the keys. “I feel fine.”

“And I will drop you off,” she emphasizes.

James curses under his breath, but decides to not waste any more time and concedes. He hops into the passenger’s seat and yanks his phone out of his pocket to reply to Rose’s message.

“On my way. I’ll be there in… well, however long it takes to navigate Friday night traffic.”

He then programs Rose’s address into the satnav and tries not to be impatient about the drive to Rose’s flat. He keeps checking his phone, to make sure he read her message correctly and that he isn’t hallucinating that she wants to see him. But no, there it is, for him to reread over and over again, her asking him to come over so they can talk.

He swears it takes over an hour, but it’s only twenty minutes when River pulls up in front of Rose’s building.

“Call me when you’re ready to be picked up,” she says. “I’m on duty until midnight. If it’s after midnight, Danny’s the one on call.”

“Got it,” he says, as though he regularly forgets which of his agents is on the clock for him.

James slams the door shut behind him and practically sprints into the building. The foyer is bustling with evening activity, and he immediately ducks into the stairwell to avoid the gazes of the gaggle of young people.

As he climbs the stairs, he types out a, “I’m on my way up,” message to Rose. He’s huffing and puffing by the time he makes it to the tenth floor, and he takes a moment to catch his breath before going to Rose’s door and knocking.

She opens it after a heartbeat, having obviously been waiting for him. Though the hallway is empty, she ushers him inside and swiftly latches the door behind him.

Then, she spins and smiles shyly. “Hi. Thanks for coming. Er… d’you… d’you want something to drink? Tea?” She chews on the side of her thumbnail, then frowns and says, “Oh, wait, you don’t like tea. I’ve got some wine, if you want.”

“Tea is fine,” he interrupts, hating the nerves that are emanating from her with every rushed word she speaks. “When I’d told you I’m not big on tea, I mostly meant that I would almost always order coffee over tea. But I still drink tea.”

God, now he’s the one rambling like a loon. He takes a breath and repeats, “Tea is fine.”

“’Kay.” She watches him for another moment before shuffling to her kitchen.

He isn’t sure what to do with himself. Should he sit on the sofa? But that would feel weird, when she’s making him tea. Should he offer to help? But it’s not like he can help the water boil faster. So he ends up resting his elbows on her kitchen island, trying not to stare at her and utterly failing. He’s coming to realize she looks beautiful no matter what she’s wearing, be it that magical faerie gown from their date to the Renaissance Faire, or the yoga bottoms and oversized jumper she’s currently wearing. Her hair is pulled up in a loose and messy bun, exposing the graceful arch of her neck, and he has the overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around her waist and plant kisses all along the column of her throat.

God, how he wishes he’ll one day be able to do that.

Before too long, the kettle beeps and Rose turns to him, holding two boxes. “Chamomile, or breakfast tea? Breakfast has quite a bit of caffeine, since it’s my morning tea, but maybe you don’t like chamomile?”

“I like chamomile,” he answers. “Thanks.”

Rose nods to herself, and breathes in deeply. He wishes he could take the tea boxes out of her hands and wrap her in a hug, squeezing her until she melts into him, telling her that it’s just him, that she has nothing to be nervous about.

But he just stands there like an idiot, answering that yes, he would like honey, and no, he doesn’t like milk in his tea. He comes up to her side and can’t help but touch the small of her back ever so briefly before picking up his mug.

“Let’s sit,” she says, gesturing to her small kitchen table.

He does, keeping his feet firmly planted on his half of the floor, so unlike the dinner when they’d made a game of footsie while they ate. He wraps his hands around the ceramic, letting the warmth seep into his palms as he breathes in the smell of her flat. There are subtle hints of vanilla, so faint he probably wouldn’t notice it, except he has had Rose’s scent in his lungs and in his memory ever since the first time he’d held her in his arms.

“How was your week?” he asks, desperate to fill the silence between them.

“Fine. I’ve been reading Romeo and Juliet with my Year Tens. They all hate it,” she says with a fond smile. “To be fair, it’s not my favorite play either. I’ve been trying for years to take it out of my curriculum, but the headmaster won’t budge. Insists it’s a classic and therefore must be taught. I instead use it as a teaching moment about healthy versus toxic relationships, be it romantic or familial.”

“That’s a clever way to spin it.”

Rose makes a noncommittal noise as she sips her tea. “And your week?”

“Fine,” he parrots. “I started recording new music for my next album.” With the pleasantries out of the way, he asks, “So… you wanted to talk?”

She sighs and ducks her head to stare into her tea, as though it holds everything she wants to say.

“Yeah, I… it was a lot to process, what you said,” she admits, cheeks pinkening. 

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” he says, even though his heart is already beginning to break at the thought of leaving her flat and never seeing her again. “I just… I clearly miscommunicated so badly that you felt used, and I couldn’t bear that I made you feel that way, and so I wanted to give you the truth. I should have all along, but, well, I was a little in denial. And really, really scared.”

“Scared?” she asks, frowning.

“I’ve lost so many people who think they can handle my life only to realize later that they can’t,” he explains, trying not to pick at those old scars and reopen them. “And it hurts every time.”

Rose’s face softens, and she tentatively reaches across the chasm between them to brush her fingertips over his knuckles, which are nearly white with how hard he’s squeezing his mug. He relaxes his grip and, slowly, so as not to spook her, gives her his hand to hold, if she wants. She doesn’t exactly hold it, just rests her fingers overtop of his. But it’s enough. It’s more than enough. He basks in her touch, aching to thread their fingers together and never let go.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “That sounds so hard.”

He takes a drink of tea as an excuse not to look at her.

“I really want to believe everything you told me,” she continues, and James swears he stops breathing. “It’s just… unbelievable. How could someone like you be falling in love with someone like me?”

James frowns at her, and he reverses the positions of their hands until he’s the one covering her fingers.

“Don’t say that. You’re wonderful, Rose. Absolutely wonderful.”

“You don’t even know me,” she protests.

“But I want to. The Rose I’ve come to know over this past month is incredible, and I want to know more of her… I want to know all of her, if you’ll let me.”

Rose stares at him, unspeaking, for several uncomfortable moments. “Why were you in the pub that night we met? Why me?”

James blinks at the non sequitur. “Er, there’s no reason, really. I’d gotten home from a stint in America, my boyfriend had broken up with me, and I needed to get out of my house. I heard the music coming from the pub, decided to give it a try. End of story.”

“Yeah, but you were propositioned by several people,” she presses. “You kept turnin’ ‘em down. So why me?”

James retracts his hand from hers to scrub it over his weary face. “I don’t know, Rose. I don’t know what you want me to say. Those other people that night were plastered, and I mostly wanted to be alone. But then I came back from the loo, and a perfect stranger had saved my seat for me, and she talked to me like I was a person, not some freak show. She laughed with me and danced with me and was kind and normal to me, even after realizing who I was. I didn’t have some sort of ulterior motive that night. I just needed to get out of my house for a bit. Then I found you, and I was enchanted.”

Rose chews on the corner of her mouth, then brings her mug to her lips and sips slowly. He mirrors her, drinking his tea and enjoying the notes of honey mixed with the chamomile.

“How come you didn’t deny what the article said? About me being a rebound? How come you kept playing us off as a bit of fun for you?” she asks. “I don’t like feeling like a secret.”

“Well, would you prefer me to flaunt you to the public and let the paparazzi tear your life apart?” he retorts, and immediately regrets his sarcastic tone.

Before he can apologize, Rose snorts humorlessly. “Guess not. It’s just that I didn’t understand what was happening. I didn’t understand how you could be so sweet and lovely when we were together, but then tell the whole world that you’re playin’ and sleepin’ around with me. That was so humiliating to hear you say that.”

His cheeks burn with remorse and a desperate desire to go back in time and wallop his past self for those comments.

“I didn’t mean it,” he insists, trying to reach for her hand, but she slips it away. “Rose, I swear. I didn’t mean what I said. Well, I did. But not the way you’re thinking. Remember, I thought you wanted casual with me. So I had to keep convincing myself that we were only having fun together. And I wanted to keep you from the media. I didn’t want them to know exactly how I felt about you, because I couldn’t stand it if they found you and treated you the way they treat me.”

“I guess that’s fair,” she mumbles. “Still humiliating though.”

“Then let’s figure out what I can say instead,” he suggests. “I don’t want to hurt you, Rose. And I’m so, so sorry my stupid, thoughtless comments hurt you. What should I say when interviewers ask me about you? Er, I admit I already told one interviewer this past week that I met you in a pub.”

The corner of Rose’s mouth lifts in the ghost of a smile. “Yeah, I heard.” The smile dies as she confesses, “I don’t know what you should tell the media. I’ve never had to think about this before.”

“Neither have I,” he reminds. “Usually my partners are famous, so we don’t need to stay private. But this thing with you—if you want this thing, that is—is precious to me, and I don’t want the media to have it.”

“I don’t know what the answer is,” she confesses, and part of him wilts, because surely she’s going to say that even though he’s great, she can’t handle the stress of him living in the public eye. “I mean… I guess you can keep telling people we’re just casual.”

“No.” His rebuttal is immediate and forceful, and she snaps her gaze to him, confusion pinching the lines of her brow. “I refuse to say that. You’re so much more to me than some random woman I’m having sex with. I refuse to let people think that of you, and honestly, I’m getting tired of that reputation too.”

He pauses for a moment, but then barrels on. “When I first became famous, I was seeing this woman who told the media we were casually dating, but she told me that we were serious and monogamous. She said she always gave vague answers like that to the media. We dated each other for about three months, and her answers to the paparazzi were always the same: that I was just some fun, that she was welcoming me into the spotlight, that she was mentoring me. It messed with my head, because she was laughing at our relationship to the public, but acted completely differently when we were alone. When I couldn’t stand it anymore and asked if we could go public as a committed couple, she said that I was taking our relationship far more seriously than what it was. It was one of the worst feelings in the world to be told I had misinterpreted everything, even though I know what she had told me. And I don’t want to do that to you. I won’t have you constantly questioning and doubting what I tell the media because it’s the opposite of what I tell you.”

Rose looks at him with such heartbreak in her eyes that he feels like she was stripping him naked in front of her. It’s confusing and overwhelming, so he instead stares at his half-drunk mug of tea. A moment later, a soft, socked foot brushes along his ankle. He flicks his gaze to her to see her smiling sadly at him.

“I’m so sorry that happened. Thank you for telling me. That woman was a twat.” Rose continues caressing her toes along his shinbone as she says, “I don’t know how to tell you to deal with the media and interviewers. You’re the expert there. I… I’m going to trust your judgment, I suppose.”

The hopes that James hasn’t dared put too much faith in rise in a crescendo of excitement.

“Does… does this mean you want to keep seeing me?” he croaks.

Rose licks her lips, then nods. “Yeah. I… God, I’ve loved this past month with you. It’s the happiest I’ve been in a long time. I really like bein’ with you.”

The air leaves his body in a long whoosh as he scrambles out of his seat. Her eyes bug when he kneels in front of her, but then when he opens his arms for her, she understands. She pulls him to his feet and flings her arms around his neck, clinging to him. He gathers her as close as he can and tucks his nose into her hair, breathing her in.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you. God, I’m so sorry, Rose. I’m so sorry for everything.”

“So am I. I didn’t mean to make you feel unimportant. I’m sorry.”

“Neither did I. Let’s start over, eh? Hi, I’m James. You might recognize me from the dozens of posters of my face splattered across the city.”

Rose laughs and holds him tighter, releasing the knots of tension that have been snared around his stomach all week.

“Hi, I’m Rose, a random schoolteacher,” she says, a grin evident by the warmth in her voice.

“Nice to meet you, Rose. Will you be my girlfriend?” he asks, holding his breath as he awaits her response.

She finally pulls her face out of his neck to look at him. Her eyes trace every contour of his face, drinking him in as her fingertips brush along the nape of his neck, stroking the fine hairs there.

“You’re serious about this?” she confirms, though with how quietly she’s speaking, James isn’t sure if she’s addressing him or herself. She locks eyes with him and asks, “You… you said you might be falling in love with me?”

He nods silently, wondering if someone like her could, one day, be able to love someone like him.

“Okay,” she murmurs, leaning in to press her forehead to his. Their breaths meet in the small space between them, the moment so intimate he never wants it to end.

Rose angles her face down, capturing his lips in the gentlest, sweetest kiss he has ever had. It melts his bones and sends heat searing through his bloodstream, screaming at him to hold her closer, to kiss her more deeply and let those kisses tell her everything his brain is incapable of putting into words.

But he doesn’t, he keeps the pressure soft, molding his lips to hers over and over again as they exchange dozens of little kisses until he has lost track of time. He ducks his hands beneath the hem of her jumper to touch her bare back, holding her to him because he can’t bear to let her go again. She, meanwhile, cradles his neck with one hand while her other cups his cheek, feathering her fingertips lightly over his day-old stubble.

After an immeasurable moment, Rose pulls away. Her cheeks are deliciously pink, and she’s smiling so tenderly at him that he feels like the most important person in her world.

 “Okay,” she repeats, brushing her thumb along his tingling bottom lip, “let’s see if we can fall together.”

#ficandchips #dwfic #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #james x rose #romance #angst #my fic #sacred new beginnings #hopefully people see this 🥴 #what with the new ep tonight and all

[duhragonball]

Like Fanfiction

I just noticed I haven’t updated this blog in eleven days.  I’ve probably had longer gaps, but this just seemed kind of startling to me for some reason.  Anyway, I’m here today to talk about “Charmed.”

I finished my scheduled Fantastic Four comics for the month, so I decided to just completely waste the next weeks or so, and that led me to YouTube, where I found a series by Allison Pregler where she reviewed “Charmed” season by season. I think the whole thing ended up being ten hours long?  Anyway, I liked this because I never watched “Charmed” but it was on throughout my 20′s, and I was always aware of it, but never knew what its deal was supposed to be.  So it’s nice to finally get that settled. 

What I didn’t expect was that the main characters turned into such unlikable assholes as the series wore on.   By Season 4, Shannon Doherty left the series, and the other two leads, Alyssa Milano and Holly Marie Combs, became producers.   Pregler notes this as a turning point in the series, where their characters, Piper and Phoebe Halliwell, became more self-absorbed and were almost never called out for any character flaws.  It sounds like something out of professional wrestling, like when a top talent gets booking power and writes himself as a world champion who never loses.   Anyway, much of Pregler’s review series is taken up with unflattering montages of Phoebe and Piper being heartless jerks. When a crisis unfolds, they make it about themselves.  When innocents are in danger, they want to ignore it.   Maybe Pregler is exaggerating, but she found a lot of clips for her videos. 

Occasionally, she would compare certain plot developments to fanfiction, and not as a compliment.   I felt the same way at times, and it struck me that a lot of the storylines in “Charmed” seemed to revolve around this sort of indulgent wish-fulfillment fare.   I don’t know what went on backstage, but it really does feel like Milano and Combs wanted to do stories where their characters were beloved and respected by those around them, but also blameless and beyond reproach, no matter how snarky or dismissive they were of their magic responsibilities.   I guess that is how a lot of fanfic goes down.   Someone watches a movie and doesn’t like how their favorite character got handled, so they write their own story where their fave gets better treatment.  

That, and fanfiction often skips to the good part, whatever “good” happens to be for the writer.   If they’re doing a story about a love confession, they’ll just go straight to that, and not bother setting anything up.   When I first learned about fanfiction, I was surprised by how casually the writers would just presume that the reader knows all about the characters.  I’ve seen X-Men fics where they just call him “Scott” and never mention that he uses the codename “Cyclops” and shoots optic blasts and wears blue tights.   It’s just taken as a given, and the time you save not explaining this can be used to hurry up and get to the sex scene. 

At a guess, I think that may have been where “Charmed” lost its way.   It was supposed to be this urban fantasy thing, I think, tapping into the success of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, with three sisters getting witch powers and fighting demons.   So it makes sense for the characters to get frustrated with that, and wish that they could chuck the whole deal and lead normal lives.  You see that in every superhero story.   Spider-Man wishes he could be a normal guy again, or look the other way when shit goes down, but he knows he can’t.   It makes sense for “Charmed” to do the same thing once in a while, but I think somewhere along the way, they got a little too comfortable with that trope and fell into a rut.   When Phoebe Halliwell complains once in a while that these demon-of-the-week adventures are really screwing up her career and love-life, that’s relatable.   When she complains about it every week, and has to be convinced to take action every single time, then it starts to make her look like a real piece of shit.   There was one scene where she insists that they shouldn’t risk their lives to save a particular innocent, because if they got killed, then that would doom many more innocent people that they might be able to save later.  That’s kind of messed up.   Maybe there’s a more balanced interpretation to Phoebe’s character, but what I’ve seen looks pretty bad.

Anyway, it occurred to me that this incompleteness is probably what people mean when they compare things negatively with fanfiction.  When it’s in actual fanfic, I think it gets a pass, because the writer’s doing it for free, but when a TV show or movie does it, it gets people mad because there’s higher expectations.   For example, “Charmed” introduced a magic school, very similar to the one in the Harry Potter books, and they even went out of their way to point out the similarity, which seems pretty weak to me.   But the biggest letdown was that it was literally named “Magic School”.   Like, that’s what it says on the sign and everything.   It’s like they never bothered to improve on the working name, like how “Snakes on a Plane” ended up being the actual title of the movie.  They could have called “Merlin Academy”, or “Shadow Hall” or literally anything else, but they were like “Fuck it, ‘Magic School.’“  

For that matter, I never understood calling the main characters “The Charmed Ones”.   That sounds really basic, especially when the main thing about them is that they’re a trio.   Call them the “Witches Three” or “The Triune of Power” or just “The Halliwell Sisters” or whatever.   It’s just such a lack of effort for something that they were going to have to use for the whole run of the series.  On the other hand, they seemed to put a lot of work into the episode where Alyssa Milano played Lady Godiva to defend breastfeeding in public or something.  Which... yeah, sounds like a fanfic plot now that I think about it.

[bitterseaproduction]

Me again, thanks for the answer. It was a thought on a possible birthday drabble for grandlovescheme :) If you like supernatural Daemyra you should check out her chats in ask. But okay, I love that you said that about rejection. Because I think Rhaenyra understands, but I also think that it really did feel like a rejection to her all the same. And I think that hurt is still there. Yes, he did finally spend the night with her but he still never said he wants to marry her. I know why he didn't but I'm sure she still has that doubt that goes back over ten years that mirrors does he want me/does he want to marry me. And I like how you layer all that. At the dinner she told everyone, including him she never wanted to marry again. I'm sure she understood what she said to her father and to Daemon himself about her true feelings. And even though time has passed I really doubt Daemon even said anything about her decision. Which would lend more into the doubts she has. I guess I hope one day she gets to hear him say all the things she has needed to hear to really heal, for so long. My question is more of a thought I had reading your last update than an actual straight forward question I guess. I was thinking as I was reading about the favor that it's wonderful they both worked together for Helena and for their goals. But a small part of me wondered if part of the conversation we didn't see was them hinting each other about him asking for her favor. Like alluding to that he would have if not for them having a plan. I don't think he would have actually. But I do think it could have been a light moment for them to wish and, what if for a moment. I'm sure Rhaenyra thought about it when she talked to him, even if she won't say it to him. Maybe after she thanks him for agreeing to did it. Daemon could have said something like Perhaps I could/would have asked for another favor were this not a plan. And Rhaenyra sad wistful moment that they need not wonder about that now.

Hello! Absolutely, apologies for the delay in replying this time.

And yes, I ended up talking out Daemon's motivations with a friend of mine a while back and it really comes down to this is the same guy who walked into almost certain death in the Stepstones rather than accept help from his brother, who walked away (albeit temporarily) when Viserys denied him Rhaenyra, who did not follow through when Rhaenyra goaded him on at her wedding despite being willing to spill blood to free himself to wed. He clearly wants Rhaenyra, but he has so many hang-ups over his brother and is not TRULY willing to turn over the boat himself, just rock it now and then, that if they have to go through Viserys to be together, it would inevitably be a problem.

And as you say, Rhaenyra knows it. And it stings that she knows he wants her just as much as she wants him, but his resentment (and yes, love) of his brother is just that great. And I plan to tackle it directly more later, but I love the dichotomy of rebellion and loyalty to family in Daemon. I sincerely think there's no one alive who places more importance on what it means to be of House Targaryen during The Dance than Daemon himself, and The Thing he did presumably coming next season only amplifies that belief.

But as to your question-thought, I think you are quite on the money. I didn't deep-consider the conversation that happened (and I imagine there will be more of that sort of thing as the story starts to speed up in the next leg) BUT the chapter where Rhaenyra & Daemon chat on the way to the council meeting is pretty much who I imagine them interacting now, light and affectionate with a lot of unsaid meaning (like Daemon basically implying he's not sleeping with anyone else by saying he doesn't attend brothels now).

I've probably rambled enough, but yes, I basically give a full blessing on that favor take. :)

#daemyra #a truth so strong #daemon targaryen #anon reply

[kokomochi]

𝐃𝐄𝐉𝐀 𝐕𝐔 | 𝐤𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞

"𝙞'𝙢 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚, 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮."

years have passed and just when you thought that ten years are enough for her to forget her first love- it wasn't, nor does it look like she'll move on anytime soon. with her business spiraling down, her father hired her a new secretary in hopes to save the business. what she and her secretary thought was a simple office relationship, turned into something even more.

12. letting her down slowly

they say that letting go of the past helps you move forward to the future- and that's exactly what kokonoi hajime was doing.

after dropping off the young manager at the prison center, he decided to make one final stop to the past that anchored him down for the last twelve years.

where you may ask? the cemetery of course.

how long has it been since he last visited? a decade or so? ah who knows, all that's in his mind right now is to visit one particular family tombstone that's located at the very back of this depressing place.

he hated going here when he was still a teen- couldn't handle the smell of incense and chrysanthemums that people would leave on the foot of their loved ones' resting place.

but of course, he needed to at least give inui akane a proper goodbye, it's what she deserves to say the least.

the soles of his dress shoes crunched the luscious green grass beneath him, eyes landing on the familiar marble just in the distance. the silver-haired man silently thanked the gods that the place was relatively empty- save for the stray cats that were lurking about, but that's about it.

and as much as he dreaded looking down at her engraved name on that stone, he was finally standing in front of it with his head down in respect.

kokonoi wasn't a very religious man- growing up with only money on his mind never really gave him the headspace to think about anything else, so his 'prayer' was just him being silent for a long minute.

dark eyes solemnly looked at the burned-out incense and dried-out flowers, wincing inwardly to himself- should've at least bought flowers you know?

"yo, akane. it's been a while hasn't it?" he began, a sigh leaving his lips as he sat down on the stone ground beneath him, not caring if his suit was going to get dirt on it or not.

as expected, only the sounds of the fluttering birds above him was his only response. not that he minded of course, he was the one talking to thin air.

if he was the same man that he was back then, his eyes would've welled with tears by now- chanting his usual 'i could've saved you' like a prayer.

the man grew out of it, of course, knowing and accepting that all things happen for a reason- and if the gods planned to take akane from this world at a very young age then so be it. even with mountains of wealth under his name, he wasn't a god to have a say on it.

"sorry i haven't visited in so long, kind of busy with my work and all." he had a solemn smile etched on his features, eyes never meeting the marble stone as he watched the leaves fall from their branches.

"a lot has happened the past few years, and when i saw a lot i mean a shit ton of it."

kokonoi hajime never thought that after a decade of not seeing her, he would've expected himself to be sad- telling her all of the things that had happened with a pain struck heart. but for some reason, all he felt was relief.

"i still like money- obviously. and i'm also now a part of a big shot criminal organization, hooray i guess." god did he feel pathetic talking to no one else but himself, but it's alright.

as long as he says what he's come here to say, then he wouldn't mind talking to thin air for an hour or so.

silence dawned upon him, dark eyes trained at the incense that was letting out its final smoke- a trail of grey fluttering up into the heavens like some sort of offering.

"hey... did you remember the promise that i told you back then? you know... the whole 'i'll marry you when we grow older'?" a chuckle left his lips, eyes closed trying to dull down the pain that he was feeling.

even after how much time passed by him, it still hurts like a god damn bitch. but you know, it didn't hurt as it did back then- or even a month ago way before he met l/n y/n.

"you told me that you'd wait for me... didn't you?"

to let go is to grow- taking down the chains that keeps you strayed at the bottom of the ocean and swimming to the surface. forgetting about the past and focusing on your future, that's what it means to let go.

"well... i'm here to ask you a question."

"inui akane, will you wait for me a little longer? for another life for us to be together?"

and now kokonoi hajime has let go of the girl that he once fell in love with and swam to the surface where l/n y/n was waiting for him.

his fingers weaved themselves through his silver tresses, a sigh escaping from his lips as a small smile etched itself onto his features- never feeling so relieved in his entire life that he finally had the courage to let go.

"i know that i promised you that you're gonna be the one who i'm marrying in this lifetime but... fate had other plans for us no?"

the sounds of the leaves dancing with the wind serves as his white noise, giving him a calm ambiance that soothed his nerves.

it is painful of course- but that's the best part of growing up. the pain only lasts temporarily, and if he can take a punch or two from his opponents then he can take a little bullet to the heart.

another wave of silence dawned upon him, hands supporting himself as he leaned back to appreciate the warmth of the sun above him- afternoons in tokyo were always the best time of the day for him.

his mind flashed him an image of the young manager, a smile etched on her face with a dandelion in between her ink-stained fingers. he can still weirdly smell the fresh scent of the peaches and dandelions that they visited earlier today.

kokonoi couldn't help but smile to himself with a mix of glee and adoration- completely acting like some love-struck teenager from a movie, g you know, the characters that he hated with a burning passion.

"you see... there's this woman that i like, and at first she reminded me of you in a very peculiar way but- it was all in my head."

"in reality, i was scared to admit that i was falling for her because i didn't want to end up being heartbroken again... but i couldn't really help it."

right now, he couldn't care whether the birds stop singing or the trees stop dancing- because right now, he's letting down the girl whom he promised a life with for another who his heart was beating for.

"she's an amazing woman. with the softest (h/c) hair and those vibrant (e/c) eyes, i continued to fall for her even deeper than i imagined myself to be."

"her name is l/n y/n- and she's the woman who i want to spend this lifetime with."

kokonoi gave the stone a closed-eyed grin as if to tell akane that he was just fine and happy right now- which he is of course.

a small smile etched itself onto his features, eyes looking down at her engraved name with a look of endearment.

"so if it isn't too much to ask. i'd like for you to wait for me- and in our next life, i promise to marry you."

and just like magic, the silver-haired man felt a gentle gush of wind- hair blowing forward with his eyes slightly widened.

was this inui akane giving him an answer? if so then was it a yes? the wind was a gentle one, complementing the afternoon sunshine that shone above his head.

kokonoi chuckled knowing that the wind was nothing but a natural phenomenon- but it's couldn't hurt for him to imagine it as her reply.

he stood up, dusting his pants and giving the marble stone one last smile.

"then that settles it."

"see you in our next life, akane."

with a final salute, he began walking out of the place with his hands inside of his pocket just in time that someone called him.

raising a brow, he took it out. the look of confusion on his face was replaced with a softer one- pressing the accept button with a smile on his face.

"y/n? are you done?" he heard her hum in response, chuckling to himself as he took out his car keys and began walking to his car before starting the engine.

"alright then. i'm coming to pick you up."

"can we go eat after?"

kokonoi couldn't stop himself from chuckling at how cute she sounded- softly asking his permission just like that. oh god, he couldn't help but feel his heartbeat erratically inside his chest.

"anything for you."

some people would tell you that letting go of someone that you once loved hurts- and that the pain would never disappear even when you have found some else to hold.

but in kokonoi hajime's case, l/n y/n was the only solution for him to forget about the ungodly amount of pain that he had been through.

and oh, remember when he told us that he would never love again after akane? well... if it was for the young manager then it wouldn't hurt for him to try again.

#kokonoi hajime #hajime kokonoi #mitsuya takashi #takashi mitsuya #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #kokonoi hajime x reader #hajime kokonoi x reader

[cherrylovelycherry]

Try, not trying

pairing. cyno x fem!reader cw/genre. slight angst, no comfort, sort of toxic relationship, short. masterlist! requests open!

Y/N forced himself to swallow his pride.

Now she was standing in front of his door, with him looking at her.

Y/N's words got stuck in her throat, her heart had prepared what she was going to say, but her pride was preventing her words from coming out.

"… Hi." She forced herself to say, her voice came out strained and awkward. She felt her palms sweat under his gaze.

Cyno looked at Y/N, his face expressionless and still not saying a word.

He didn't know what to think, nor how to talk about what happened in the past.

After a few seconds of silence between them, Cyno finally broke it.

"What do you want, Y/N?" He asked, not sounding mean or harsh, just neutral.

"Uhm…I was just coming to apologise." She spoke feeling embarrassed, with her willpower she kept her gaze on his eyes.

Cyno crossed his arms, looking at Y/N for a few seconds. He seemed to be contemplating what to do next, though he wasn't angry nor frustrated.

"Fine." He said after those few seconds, his tone slightly annoyed if not bored. "Come inside." He said, and moved out of the way from his door, making space for Y/N.

She nodded and walked into his house, her eyes swept over the place where there was a picture of the two of them, she sighed as she saw it still there.

"…as I said before, I'm sorry." She spoke, her paragraph she had practiced for this moment completely slipped her mind.

"I just…I really don't like how you leave for days at a time without telling me." She spoke again, a hint of frustration noticeable in her voice.

Cyno's face didn't change a bit, still as expressionless as before. He glanced over at the picture of them, sighing with Y/N.

He took a step closer to her.

"There are many reasons for me to leave for days, Y/N." He said, his tone still neutral. "I have my work as a matra to take care of, I sometimes do my TCG activities…" He continued.

"I know, but how do I know where you are? or what you're doing? or if you're okay? or if you're okay? or if…" Again, her brain played a trick on her, just like it did when they fought.

"…are you with someone else?" She continued her sentence, frowning at the possible idea of that scenario.

A slight annoyance flashed on Cyno's face as he listened to Y/N's words, though this annoyance didn't last. When she finished, he kept his neutral tone as always.

"So you don't trust me, Y/N?" He said. "Are you assuming something just because I won't tell you where I am or what I'm doing?"

"Do you want me to update you every five or ten minutes so that you know where I am and what I do?" He added, sounding sarcastic.

"Ah. No!" She sighed trying to relax, it looked like they were going to fight again. Besides the way he was responding left a lot to be said.

"It's not that I don't trust you. I'm just asking you to tell me when you're going to leave for some time." She spoke.

She does trust him, it's just that her mind won't stop tormenting her because of her past relationships.

Cyno looked at Y/N as she tried to compose herself. His face was expressionless, so there's no way for her to know that she was doing slightly well in getting through to him.

"So you're afraid I'll leave for so long you might think I'm cheating, is that it?" He asked again, crossing his arms. "You do know that I'm not cheating with anyone." He continued, still talking in a neutral tone.

"…"

"No, I don't know. I don't know if every time you leave you're seeing someone." She spoke, she was supposed to come to apologise, not to get back to the topic they didn't finish talking about.

At her words, Cyno's face finally twisted into a frown. "Are you serious? Are you actually thinking I'm cheating on you with other women? Is that what's eating you?" He asked.

"This is the reason why we split." He continued, still sounding frustrated. "This is the exact reason. Can't you trust me, Y/N? Can't you just trust me to do my work or spend time on my own without thinking I'm going to cheat on you?"

"Damn it…"

"I swear I do trust you, Cyno."

"Or at least I try to." Her voice sounded desperate and frustrated, if only she had healed the traumas of her past relationships, none of this would be happening.

Cyno looked at her, his frown staying put on his face. "Then why are you accusing me of cheating?" He asked again. "Are you still not over the way your previous relationships went or something? Not everything is about your exes. I'm not your ex."

"Can't you just learn to trust me or do I really not mean a thing to you?" He continued, still sounding frustrated and annoyed.

"I don't even know why I came to apologise to you if you behave like that too." She spoke quietly, gradually calmed down, then took about three deep breaths.

"Neither of us can understand each other."

Cyno let out a long sigh, crossing his arms as he looked at the ground. "Guess we can't…" He said, his tone becoming neutral.

"Look, just forget it." He continued. "It's late, too. You should go home."

A shaky sigh came out of Y/N's mouth.

"Yes, it's late." She glanced sideways at the picture of the two of them hugging.

"Have a rest." She spoke and walked out the door of her house. She was trying, she was really trying, but she couldn't do much if he couldn't understand because of her bad experiences with her past relationships.

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#cyno x reader #cyno angst #sumeru #cyno #genshin cyno #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin impact angst #angst #toxic relationship #genshin impact

[janeeyreheresy]

A Happy Ending or An Unreliable Narrator?

Was the ending truly a happy one--or is Jane lying to us?

Let's take a look: Jane Eyre ("I am no bird no net ensnares me") married her much older former master, who, due to his limited use of limbs and visual impairment, requires care. We know there's no hired carer, because Jane explicitly says she was the one who looked after him (hence why she had to send Adele to school) and also, as I noted in my recap post, it's not likely they'd be able to hire anyone. They've got no room for a live-in staff and a live-out one won't be able to make their daily way to Ferndean, which is located away from habitable civilisation.

Ferndean Manor, we are told, is not in a good state. We are told that Rochester didn't move Bertha there because the damp walls would eventually result in her death. This is the house where the Rochesters now live. Jane, however, tells us nothing about any repairs being done. Neither does she mention any decorating, purchasing furniture, wallpaper, carpets, curtains, pictures on the walls--zilch. She got a lot of pleasure out of cleaning Moor House in time for Christmas (shortly after she discovered she and the Riverses were cousins). Just look at this:

“My first aim will be to clean down (do you comprehend the full force of the expression?)—to clean down Moor House from chamber to cellar; my next to rub it up with bees-wax, oil, and an indefinite number of cloths, till it glitters again; my third, to arrange every chair, table, bed, carpet, with mathematical precision; afterwards I shall go near to ruin you in coals and peat to keep up good fires in every room; and lastly, the two days preceding that on which your sisters are expected will be devoted by Hannah and me to such a beating of eggs, sorting of currants, grating of spices, compounding of Christmas cakes, chopping up of materials for mince-pies, and solemnising of other culinary rites, as words can convey but an inadequate notion of to the uninitiated like you. My purpose, in short, is to have all things in an absolutely perfect state of readiness for Diana and Mary before next Thursday; and my ambition is to give them a beau-ideal of a welcome when they come.”

This one paragraph contains more home cosiness than the entire last chapter. The "I have now been married ten years" paragraph may be very poetic, but it tells us nothing. She was his eyes, then he regained some sight, so he can pretty much move about by himself. She says they visit Diana and Mary, but that's all. Nothing else about how they spend their time, the long summer days or the long winter nights.

And then, that "when his first-born was put into his arms" line. Even Katniss Everdeen isn't this cold about her kids, and she didn't want any. She only had them because Peeta talked her into it. There's nothing in the book that would indicate whether Jane wanted children, but neither is there anything that would indicate she didn't want them. Presumably she did, married life would have meant kids (unless, idk, they lived sexlessly, or there was birth control). She only mentions how Rochester felt about the kid ("On that occasion, he again, with a full heart, acknowledged that God had tempered judgment with mercy."), not her. It's baffling.

Lastly, the final words are dedicated to St John. Why? She receives his letter from India, in which he tells her he feels death coming. She gets tears in her eyes. Does she wish she married him instead?

Of course, that would not have been a better option than marrying Rochester in any way, but she may have thought the grass was greener in St John-landia.

So to sum it up, there's certainly an argument against it being a happy ending. Take it any way you wish.

Personally I don't care. I actually think she was, indeed, happy. I may not see caring for a spouse in a dump like Ferndean in Bumfuck Nowhere a happy ending, but that's me. Jane, however, does. This is a woman with a very limited worldview, who has never been anywhere and not met many people, who fell in love with the first man who crossed her path, who at barely twenty years old believes nobody will ever love her the way the Roch did. She doesn't think that she deserves anything better than what she got. So yeah, she was happy.

But like I said, I don't care. What I do care about is that Bertha was happy after her escape and divorce from Rochester.

#jane eyre #jane eyre heresy #not recap