#but she would never begrudge him that because she knows he deserves to have been loved too

[sassypantsjaxon]

Robin and Sanji both being lonely book kids is just so

[vindicated-truth]

Jeongje,

I assume Joowon-ah has given you this letter during one of his visits. Said something about including it in the gift he has prepared for you.

You know he now only has a Lieutenant’s salary, right? He lost access to all of his family’s money, because he didn’t listen to me when I warned him that he shouldn’t ruin his life for me.

He’s an idiot.

But he’s an adult with freewill, and it’s still his money, so of course I have no say on what he chooses to spend it on.

Besides, I don’t begrudge him choosing to spend it on you. Contrary to what you might think, I don’t want you to be alone.

I never wanted that for you, Jeongje.

That’s why I’m glad Joowon-ah is making sure you aren’t. Because… I can’t be that person for you.

Not anymore.

It’s why I’m writing you this letter. Because I want you to know why.

Because I’m sorry, Jeongje. I’m sorry because… I can’t forgive you.

And it’s not because I’ve stopped caring for you. In fact, it wouldn’t hurt this much if I did.

I really wish I did.

But the reason why I can’t forgive you is that the forgiveness isn’t mine to give.

The one person who has the right to forgive you is dead.

Because you killed her.

And I’m not saying this because I want to punish you, either. Because contrary to what you might think, I don’t want you to suffer anymore.

You’ve suffered enough. And I know that because I’ve seen that in Joowon-ah, too.

No one deserves to suffer, Jeongje. Not you. Not him.

But the forgiveness isn’t mine to give. It’s Yuyeonie’s.

I’m hurting because I lost a sister. My parents are hurting because they lost their daughter.

And I know you’re hurting too. Because you, too, lost the one you love.

I’ve always known, you know. Both of you had never been good at hiding it. It hurt that you two believed you had to, but—you made her happy, Jeongje. Yuyeonie had never been able to hide that. And to be honest, neither did you. And I can never, ever begrudge how you made each other happy.

Which is why I know… you’re hurting, too.

It’s the one thing you and I have in common, even after all this time.

You and I… we both lost her.

But all our pain, Jeongje… it’s all secondary. None of our pain compares to what she lost.

She lost her life.

She lost a future that should have been hers. You know she wanted to be a lawyer, right? But do you know the kind of lawyer she wanted to be?

She had a very clear vision of the life she wanted for herself. She’d sit at the foot of my bed while I’d practice on my worn-out guitar and she’d regale me tales of how she wanted to be a lawyer who defended women.

Her ideals were way ahead of her time. She said our society was too patriarchal, that it was a society where women didn’t feel safe, and she wanted to change that.

She wanted to be a lawyer so she could be a safe space for all these women who were victims of the cruelty and violence of men. She wanted to be the kind of woman she herself needed.

She would’ve been the kind of woman who could’ve stopped women like her from being killed by men.

Which is why it was such a cruel twist of fate that her life ended precisely like that.

I always wonder, Jeongje… how many women would’ve also been saved had she grown up to be the kind of woman she wanted to be? A woman who protected women?

Would she have been able to protect our Minjeongie too?

Did you know that she had always been wary of Kang Jinmook? She didn’t dare say it directly because I think she might have been scared back then, too. But she would always tell me, casually but consistently, how it might be better for Minjeongie if we adopt her as soon as it was legally possible.

Do you know what I told her back then, Jeongje? That she was being ableist. That she was looking down on Jinmook’s capability as a father just because he was mentally disabled.

Turned out he wasn’t. He was just evil.

And she was right.

Even back then, Jeongje, she was right. And I didn’t listen to her. Her own twin brother didn’t listen to her.

How unforgivable is that?

Can you imagine what our society would’ve been like if someone with her brains and her advocacy had lived to see her dream come true? Can you imagine, Jeongje, how different things would’ve been if only our society listened to women more? If only we listened to our Yuyeonie more?

She could’ve saved so many women, Jeongje. And now—

Now, we’ll never know. Because she’s dead.

We all lost a sister, a daughter, a friend, a lover. None of that compares to what she lost.

She lost her life. She lost her dream. She lost her advocacy. She lost her future.

And that’s the reason why, Jeongje. Why the forgiveness should come from her.

It had never, ever been my right to give.

It’s why I can’t forgive you. Because the one person who has the right to gift you that forgiveness—is dead.

And I’m sorry, Jeongje. I’m sorry because that’s the reason why… I can’t let you back into my life.

Not anymore.

Because I love her, Jeongje. I love her more than anything in the world, more than anyone I’ll ever love in my life.

She’s my twin, Jeongje. I had never known what it’s like to be alone because from the moment we were conceived in our mother’s womb, she had always been there. She had always been beside me. She was the other half of my soul.

Do you know what it feels like to lose the other half your soul?

Then again, maybe you do.

You love her, too.

I don’t know if she would have forgiven you. Fuck, I don’t know if she would have forgiven me. But that’s our punishment, Jeongje. That’s the pain we all have to live with: that we will never know. Because none of us have the right to take that away from her.

The right to forgive.

Because contrary to what you might think—I don’t want to lose you as a friend.

I miss you, more than you could ever know. More than you could ever hope to understand.

But it’s a loss I have to live with. It’s a loss I choose to live with. Because she’s the only one who could have granted you that forgiveness. And we all have to live with never knowing if she ever will.

I can’t let you back into my life, Jeongje—because I don’t know if Yuyeonie would’ve forgiven you for me to let you.

For me to have you back.

I am not the one who has the right to forgive you, so I am also not the one who has the right to punish you.

So please, Jeongje. Don’t suffer anymore. Not for my sake.

Don’t be alone anymore.

Both of you.

Your friend,

Dongsik

—

Dongsik-ah,

Did you know what Lieutenant Han was going to give me? Because you should’ve talked him out of it still, never mind that it’s his money he’s spending. I’m not going to risk your ire by telling you how much he spent, because I actually know how much all of it cost, but I really hope you’re at least treating him to dinner for a month because I can’t imagine how he’d be able to afford to feed himself after this.

Or maybe just let Jaeyi-ya treat him. I’ve heard he’s been frequenting the butcher shop more often lately.

I’m glad. He deserves to be fed.

He deserves to be happy.

He’s a good guy, Dongsik-ah. You know that, right?

You might be wondering why this prince who has fallen from grace keeps going out on a limb for someone like me.

I’ll tell you why, Dongsik-ah. It’s because he’s lonely.

In the kindest way I can tell you this, I don’t think you’ll ever understand Lieutenant Han. And it’s not because he was brought up in a life of luxury and privilege that the rest of us can only imagine.

But because you were loved, Dongsik-ah.

You and Yuyeonie—both of you were brought up in love.

I think that’s part of why I stayed over at your house a lot, even when we were kids. I was drawn to your family, because I badly wished I had a family like yours. You can’t imagine the kind of envy I felt seeing how your parents are.

You had that ridiculous dream of becoming a singer, even though Jihwa-ya kept telling you to your face that you couldn’t hold a tune to save a life. Yet your parents supported your dream all the same, and had never once compared you to Yuyeonie.

You know, I’ve always had the sneaking suspicion she was tone-deaf too, mostly because I couldn’t understand why she’d keep clapping for you every time you'd “perform” for us during family nights.

I’d been a part of your family for that long.

I never had any of that. And I think—that’s why Lieutenant Han is drawn to me.

Because he never experienced that kind of love, either. And he knows what it’s like to be alone.

That’s why he’s making sure I’m not. Even when I deserve to be.

Because he knows exactly what it’s like.

And I don’t think it’s as selfless as you think, Dongsik-ah. I think—he just wants someone to understand what he’s been through, too.

Because you’ll never be that person for him.

Because you were never abused by your parents, Dongsik-ah, the way Lieutenant Han was. And he’s drawn to me, because I’m someone who understands that the most.

Between the both of us though, I honestly believe I still had it better. And this isn’t false modesty or debt of gratitude or anything like that. My mother was evil, too, but in her own way, she did love me.

At the very least, until the very end, she had never abandoned me.

Even when it meant she had to hurt you instead.

That’s something Lieutenant Han never even had.

He never had a family.

And that’s the reason why I’m writing you this letter, in return.

Because you’re right, Dongsik-ah. I don’t belong in your life anymore.

I belong to the past. And I deserve to stay there.

Do you know why, Dongsik-ah?

Because that’s where Yuyeonie is.

You’re right. I don’t know if she would ever forgive me. But that’s okay. I’m not doing this for my forgiveness.

Because you’re right, Dongsik-ah. I did love her. I love her, still, even when she might not want that love anymore, after everything I did.

After everything I failed to do.

But that’s also why, Dongsik-ah. Why I want to stay in the past. Why I choose to stay in the past. Because that’s where she is. That’s how I choose to live the rest of my life.

Immortalizing her memory.

That’s why I gave you that sketchbook. To the best of my ability, Dongsik-ah, until my last breath—this is how I choose to love her.

I will never let her memory die.

This is how I choose to live the rest of my life in penance.

The people who have hurt you, the people who hurt Yuyeonie and your family—we all belong to the past. That’s why we all belong in prison, because it’s keeping us there.

But you, Dongsik-ah—you don’t belong to the past. Not anymore. There’s no more reason for you to stay there.

Because you have a future with him.

And that’s where the problem lies, you see. It’s precisely because he equates himself with me that he thinks he deserves to stay in the past, too.

He was never there, Dongsik-ah. Because his own monster of a father sent him far, far away, where he was forced to look for love in all the wrong places, when he should have already found it first in his own home. His own family.

You and Yuyeonie showed me that.

I don’t think he did. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so utterly deprived of it. Starved of it.

Until he found you.

You told me, Dongsik-ah, how you will never love anyone the way you loved Yuyeonie, ever again. And you asked me if I know how it feels like to lose the other half of your soul.

I do, Dongsik-ah. But I don’t think that’s the point.

We weren’t supposed to replace her.

We’re simply allowed to love again.

I’m allowed to have a friend again. One who chooses to starve for a month because he doesn’t know how to love halfway and he always gives it his all in everything he does.

I agree with you, by the way. He is an idiot.

But you know what, Dongsik-ah?

I’ve come to love this idiot, too.

And if I’m allowed to have a friend again… you’re allowed to rebuild the other half of your soul again.

You’re allowed to not let yourself be alone anymore.

You’re allowed to love again.

Dongsik-ah… Han Joowon is like me. But at the same time, he isn’t.

Because he belongs to your future. If you let him.

And this is why I'm writing you this letter, too.

Please don't let my friend starve anymore.

Your friend,

Han Joowon’s friend,

Jeongje

[voxmilia]

Sire! the people plead for inkblade headcanons and scenarios! Will thou not have mercy???

The peasantry demand inkblade, do they? Very well, I shall oblige!

My dear friend Nick @starlingcity just added a new song to our inkblade ship playlist and I got baby about it so these are gonna be more tender and more on the love half of enemies to lovers but!!

Oisin left a note in Adaine's locker asking her to prom freshman year. It was at Ivy's insistence. However, it was right before the bad kids ended up in jail for the death of Johnny Spells. So after days turned to weeks turned to months, that sliver of courage left and Oisin asked Kipperlily to break into Adaine's locker and steal it back. (It doesn't take much for Kipperlily to hate any of the bad kids but this is something she quietly judges Adaine for for years.) Oisin doesn't tell her until long after they've started dating.

It's 3 am and Oisin wakes Ivy out of trance to text her frantically, wondering if she thought it would impress Adaine if he got SO good at glyphs, he could write a message to her inside the giant orb she carries around. Ivy calls him a twat and tells him to go to bed. (The dragon in him, two years later, hopes she's impressed when that same magic throws her into the maws of his distant relatives.)

A headcanon Nick has is that Oisin is a leather worker as a hobby, making things like Ivy's quiver and his spellbook holster. He makes another spellbook holster (it's NOT a courting gift, Ivy, shut up) and leaves it in Adaine's locker early senior year (Kipperlily grumbling as she unlocks it). Adaine knows who it is by the clouds and lightning bolts etched into the leather. She does not thank him but she does wear it when she doesn't want to wear her backpack. (She thanks him belatedly, eventually)

Their first moonar yulenear as a couple, he makes her a sheath for the sword of sight. She thanks him immediately this time

Demi aroace Adaine had never had a crush before Oisin; she thinks the moment at Fabian's party is just the alcohol. She thinks it's a low grade panic attack when he waves at her in the hallway, when he messages her an apology for his party. (Embarrassingly, when she discusses it with her doctor, said doctor tells the young oracle that she likely doesn't need a higher dose of her medication because this isn't that sort of panic. She doesn't tell anyone about the mistake.)

Oisin ended up with an awful stomach ache after the party at Fabian's - he was NOT built to process milk. It's karma, and even he knew it.

Adaine admits to no one that Oisin is partial inspo for why she gets a magic tattoo between junior and senior year, instead crediting only Ayda and Fabian. She and Oisin do get matching tattoos after they get together - the design Nick and I have atm is the eye of the sword of sight surrounded by lightning bolts. (She's the oracle that survived the storm, after all)

EVERYONE knows about Adaine speaking draconic and how Oisin thinks that's very hot, and how they banter and snark at each other with it. But Nick and I have decided that Adaine speaks it almost exclusively the first couple of times Oisin visits Mordred Manor - the sheer love in that house overwhelms him and speaking in a language only Adaine knows makes it feel private and he can breathe a little easier. (Aelwyn teases her relentlessly for this)

Adaine doesn't trust him afer he's revived and he's mostly understanding. It gets old, how much she assumes the worst in him - deserved but still tiring. However, he never stops her when she casts Detect Thoughts. Is it invasive? Yes. Does he believe he owes her that much? Also yes. (She finds ways to disbelieve him anyway, for her own sanity. He gets it but he hates it.)

Eventually, when everything is love now, Fig suggests a double date with Ayda (Fig, who had always been so trusting, so willing to extend a hand, is one of the first bad kids to swallow her pride and try and make begrudging amends. Lucy's presence helps.). Oisin and Ayda get along like a house on fire and Adaine "I never really felt like a kid" Abernant, gets the very sweet teenage experience of sitting in a booth at a crappy dinner, with a boy's arm around her shoulders, laughing with her friends. Content. Happy. Silly. Young.

[meluiloth]

Unwanted Guardian

For @tolkienocweek day 2: Relationship with Canon Characters

If nothing else, Findoron could at least say that the uniform fit him. His green gloves and pants were both comfortable and flexible, and the supple leather boots made no sound when he hopped a few times to test the fit; he supple leather tunic was carefully embroidered to mimic the flowing pattern of tree-bark. Findoron knew that he would blend in perfectly with the muted browns, greens, and greyes of Mirkwood.

There came a light knock at his door, and once Findoron said, "Come in," his uncle gently pushed open the door to his room, a proud smile spreading on his face. "How does it feel to finally be an official Mirkwood Scout?"

Findoron knew he ought to smile and say something to convey excitement, at least for Feren's sake; but he had never been one to gloss over a situation. "Fine, I suppose - I'm glad that ceremony is over, so I can just get to work. Officially." The fact of the matter was, Findoron had been out in the woods fighting Spiders long before the Mirkwood Guardians deigned to accept him as one of them. "You know it's only because of your connection with the King that I even got the job to begin with."

As expected, Feren's smile fell. "That is not true; for one thing, though I did mention your desire to be a part of the Guardians to King Thranduil (and that was all I did, mind you), I would not have done so if I did not believe you could do it. For another, it is within no one's right or power to either coerce or bully the King of Mirkwood into doing something." He paused to let his words sink in before finishing, "All that to say, you received the position because you earned it, and you should be proud of yourself."

Findoron gave a small smile, grateful for his uncle's adamant defense, but it did not quite reach the root of the issue. "I know I can do the job, Adatheg, but really, no one else wanted me to; they'd rather I didn't exist, because I'm the son of a-"

"Your mother," Feren cut in sternly, "was a kind and loving woman; that I can wholeheartedly attest to. She made some reckless decisions, just as all people do in their lives, but she ought not to be defined by those decisions no matter what they were. It is not right that her actions have become your burden, but do not clasp that burden like a blade. You have done a great thing today, Findoron: you have taken the first step to building your own legacy. Do not scoff at that."

He firmly held Findoron's gaze until the young Silvan nodded. "I suppose you're right," Findoron admitted. "I've made myself impossible to ignore now, haven't I? They'll have to take me seriously whether they want to or not."

"There's my boy," Feren said, giving Findoron the sly grin that so often crossed his own face. "If you cannot beat them, join them, and if you cannot join them, beat them. Now, take that off so you do not stain it before tomorrow - I think this deserves a fine dinner." So saying, he gave his nephew a last pat on the shoulder before leaving him alone.

As he changed, Findoron thought back to his initiation ceremony that afternoon; only the King, Feren, and the rest of the Mirkwood Guardians had attended, but that already made a suitable crowd - and the only one happy to be there was Feren. The rest just watched Findoron as he swore in with the usual begrudging allowance for his presence, their disdain masked by the civility they were obliged to show. Such was the honorable society of Mirkwood.

The worst part, though, had been when Findoron faced the King himself to receive his sword. Despite his uncle being a trusted servant and friend of the King, Findoron rarely saw him in person. Part of that was because Findoron spent all of his time in the forest rather than within the Halls, and the other part was because they couldn't stand each others' presence.

As he held the sword that would be presented to Findoron, King Thranduil looked down at him with a mixture of disdain, pity, and something almost like guilt in his eyes, though his face remained perfectly neutral. Findoron simply stared back at him with a note of defiance - he knew that the King had no idea what to think of him, whether to treat him with the same condescension as the rest of the people (as was clearly his first instinct) - but there was that sense of indebtedness in his manner as well.

In the case of the people, he was ostracized because of the scandal surrounding his parents, but with Thranduil, it was more complicated; after all, Findoron's own mother had died protecting his wife, which no doubt instilled a sense of conflict in the King's heart as to how to treat him. If nothing else, Findoron could find enjoyment in being such a vexation.

The King rested the sheathed sword on Findoron's open palms and said, "May you be swift and strong in duty, for the protection of home, life, and our future."

Findoron dipped into a respectful bow, closing his hands around the sword. "By life or death, I will protect everything this forest stands for," he answered, the practiced words still weighty on his tongue.

This conclusion was met by a round of polite applause, but Findoron was more than happy the whole procedure was over. There was such a sense of barbed pointlessness to it all - he was never judged for himself, but for the actions of his parents, and even on the day where he ought to be recognized for his own deeds, he was branded by the ghost of the past.

His gaze lingered on the King's face for a moment more, and saw the same begrudging respect he himself was feeling reflected in Thranduil's face. They would never understand each other, or likely ever share a smile, but they could recognize the position they each held in society - and acknowledge their common goal.

They both wanted to liberate Mirkwood from the corruption that had taken root in it.

But, Findoron thought to himself, I do not do this in the name of the King, or of his people - I fight for the forest alone, for only the forest loves me.

Continuing my Tolkien Oc Week with Findoron, here is a glimpse into his dynamic with the people of Mirkwood, his uncle Feren (does he count as a canon character? I think so!), and the Elvenking Thranduil. As you can see, Findoron definitely has a hard edge to him - a streak that is an odd mix of rebellious and dutiful. His loyalty lies only to Mirkwood itself, and because Thranduil also acts in the best interest of the forest, Findoron has no trouble swearing fealty to a King he doesn't get along with (for very personal reasons which I will let you guess at but not explicitly state because that would be spoilers to Misfit!)

This piece was actually pretty hard to figure out, but I'm satisfied with the end result, and I hope you are too! As a bonus, I'm including a full-body drawing of Findoron to properly display his Mirkwood Guardian uniform!

taglist: @acornsandoaktrees, @saephrond, @sotwk, @linden-leaf

If you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know!

[kanonavi]

hello tumblr user kanonavi who is 1/3rd of the reason i started rereading tgcf. i have come to collect my personal apology for the emotional damages inflicted upon me for the past 5 days. and i have also come with THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS (mostly feelings)

- icb i put off this reread so long hualian are so romance. theyre jsut Romance......... absolutely floored by every throwaway bit of dialogue they had....... in shambles forever....,

- sqx arc was not as painful as the first few times i read it bc i now stand with my cancelled wife (he xuan) I STILL LOVE SQX AND THEY DESERVE EVERYTHING GOOD. BUT HX WAS REAL FOR ALL OF THAT. i love revenge

- i wanna know your thoughts on ling wen bc u mentioned having mixed feelings on her but i loved her so bad all the way to the end so im curious ljdkdjf

- i am not immune to backstory arc pt2. read it last last (?) night at like 3am and cried myself to sleep its just so gutting every timeeeeeee.... the hc plot that builds in that arc is ofc one of my favorites in the entire novel though :')

- the chapter w the cave of statues took me like 2+ hours to get through because i was feeling so insane abt it

i feel bad dropping this block of text in ur askbox sorry. will leave it there for now LOL

Omg hiiiii tumblr user stardust-make-a-wish welcome back from the yaoi cocaine pit :3 I know you're here to collect emotional damages, but I must make it known that I'm not even remotely sorry <3

Also you should feel bad for yourself instead of for me because I can only respond to huge blocks of text with even bigger blocks of text, so (TGCF Spoilers Ahead) and also I am so sorry lmaooooo

UGH you're so right that hualian is the most romance forever they are just so *clenches fists and sobs*....... They're always there for each other and they're so in love and they've been through so much and I just want them to be able to rest because it's what they deserve.

I will never once say that Hu Xuan wasn't justified in everything he did cuz like. Shi Wudu had it coming what a piece of shit. But at the same time Qingxuan is my wife and I will not tolerate my wife being harmed. So like revenge slay yes but also I am still cancelling He Xuan and spraying him with the water bottle (even though he is already very very damp).

Yesyesyes Ling Wen. So my thought about Ling Wen is that she kinda girlbossed a little too close to the sun, but at the same time you look at her circumstances both past and present and have to understand why she did all of that. It already would have been hard enough for her to gain any kind of recognition as a woman, much less in the Heavenly Court, so her ruthlessness is completely understandable. But at the same time, I don't really think the Brocade Immortal deserved what she did to him nor was taking Bai Wuxiang's side in the final conflict a real cool thing of her to do. I can't fully be a hater though because her own thoughts about everything are clearly so nuanced (See: The final convo she had with Xie Lian about the Brocade Immortal, which I am still thinking so incredibly hard about to this day).

I think that Ling Wen is interesting in the same way that I find other characters like Mu Qing, He Xuan, and Yin Yu interesting. It's in the sense that even if I don't really agree with all of the actions that they took, it's very easy to look at them and come to an understanding of why they did what they did. And I have varying degrees of like for all of the characters I just listed, but that doesn't change the fact that they're all Compelling. So it's almost like a begrudging respect that I feel for Ling Wen, if I were to boil it down into simple terms.

aaaaaaaaaa The Horrors(tm) :sob: Even though I could talk about Xie Lian's arc through that part of his backstory for a million years, you're so right that Hua Cheng's arc through it is also so interesting to watch. It really goes to prove that Hua Cheng is different from everyone else in Xie Lian's life up until this point, because yes there's the very obvious throughline of Hua Cheng wanting to protect Xie Lian (rather than expecting his protection), but even more importantly that feeling never changes even when Xie Lian has his mini corruption arc.

Like, Hua Cheng fell in love with the pure and virtuous Crown Prince of Xianle but not for that quality. Instead of being ashamed and looking at Xie Lian with scorn when he was like "What if I kill everyone actually" Hua Cheng is like "Then let me be your sword". There's the element of not wanting Xie Lian to dirty himself that Hua Cheng carries for the entire story but the point is in that he is not a voice who would tell Xie Lian to stop having those thoughts if it's truly what he wants (Unlike what his parents or Feng Xin and Mu Qing would probably say).

I'm going to write an essay about their character dynamic one day istg I am chewing through the drywall

The cave statues chapter......... *passes away*. Like on one hand that chapter is so funny because yes Hua Cheng is just an absolute certified freak (POV my roommate telling me earlier on in my reading that HC is a porn addict and me being like "pssht noooo" but then getting to this chapter several months later and being like "O h.") but on the other hand THE CONFESSION??????? Like. All I can do is gesture wildly at the storyboard animatic that someone made of that scene on YouTube while absolutely fucking sobbing. There is a reason why the cover of volume 6 felt somehow more intimate than the cover of volume 4 where they're literally making out.

Anyway I'm patting Hua Cheng on the head like It's okay buddy Xie Lian loves you because you're a certified freak, he's seen too much of this world to be weirded out even a little bit. Which is why those two are perfect for each other <3

I'm glad you had so much fun on your reread, have fun with the brainworms :3

[thedeafprophet]

20. Kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference.

for Jamie and May because I think Jamie deserves to be taller than May for once sdfghkfds

20. Kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference.

Upon The Stair

'...Is this an intrusion?” He moves forward, closer into their space, a gloved hand coming up to cup their cheek and tilt their gaze further up towards him. “And here I was, under the impression that my presence was invited. How kind of you, to remind me of my manners.” A moment between The Manager and The Author, for one must make up for any rude transgressions upon ones space.

Word count: 866

Rating: Teen Tags: Kissing, Height Differences, Mostly Just Fluffy Cute Stuff For Once

Also on ao3

Prompt list from here.

“You know,” Jamie says leaning against the archway in the hall with the quirk of a brow,“it is quite rude to intrude upon someone's home, no matter how many times you take it upon yourself to see yourself in.”

It was late too, Mary-Anne having already retired for the night, or no doubt she would have thrown a fit to see him in the home with no prior calling once more. For the best really, Jamie sheepishly knows they put the woman through enough stress already. 

Jamie had been settled in the sitting room for a late night cup of tea, reading into the latest novel they'd gotten their hands on, when they heard the oh so familiar tap of a silver capped cane, vision fuzzy on the edge of their peripheral. The clearest sign of any for an unexpected visitor, though not, of course, an unwanted one. 

Getting up to investigate, they found him standing in the entry hall, seemingly fascinated by the new painting Jamie had gotten hung upon the wall - an impressionist piece they'd purchased from an up and coming artist, always finding themself inclined to support the arts that were pushed back against. 

The Manager turns to look at them as soon as they make their statement, his ever present smile seeming slightly more genuine when his gaze meets theirs. 

“Is that so? Is this an intrusion?” He moves forward, closer into their space, a gloved hand coming up to cup their cheek and tilt their gaze further up towards him. “And here I was, under the impression that my presence was invited. How kind of you, to remind me of my manners.”

Jamie's not entirely sure why he's here tonight, as they glance up to meet his gaze. They're not in any particular state this evening, no more out of it then their baseline is these days. They shan't presume he's come just because he wanted to see them but- well, certainly he must get lonely too. A single performer can be grand, but it's only with a company that a show can truly be performed.

Jamie steps back slightly, moving out of his hold, before turning to dive under his arm in a quick movement. They move backwards toward the stairwell, turning to face him as they speak, the inkling of an idea forming in their mind.  

“Yes, it is!” Jamie can't keep down the amused smile at their play. “In fact, I think I'm rather quite insulted. It's very presumptuous of you - and a disgrace upon my honour!” They take a couple steps up onto the stairwell, before leaning on the banister to stare down at him.

Even now, it doesn't make them that far above him. They smirk down at him regardless, basking in the brief moment of being taller (or at least, being higher up). 

The Manager simply looks amused at their antics, seemingly in the mood to play along with their games. It was always fun for Jamie when he was - though, they never really did begrudge when he had other plans in mind.

“I see I have made a great error in my judgment. “ His words are laden with humour. Both of them know that Jamie cares very little about his habit of showing up unexpectedly. (Both of them know there's very little they could do about it anyways.). “Perhaps, then, there is something I must do? To account for my transgression?”

 Jamie's eyes flick down to his lips, smirk spreading out on their own face. “Oh, I don't know. Perhaps there is something, if it is to be on offer.” They lean forward towards him, leaving it to him to close the rest of the gap. 

A hand reaches up to lightly hold at the hair on the back of their head, before The Manager leans up, his lips at last meeting theirs. The scrape of his beard against their chin is familiar to them by now, but Jamie's pulse flutters all the same at the contact, eyes closing as they lean into the kiss. 

Jamie moves their hands to hold the base of the back of his head, trying to pull him closer as possible, aiming to avoid knocking his hat off just yet. They are oftly unused to this angle - it is rare that they're on the taller end of kisses, and most certainly not with him. Most events require some form of bending on his part - or other, different ways to put them on a more equal level. At least he's able to pick them up, not everyone has such capabilities.  

They're still smiling as they pull back from the kiss, breath quickened just a bit as they open their eyes to look down at him. 

The Manager smirks up at them, evidently feeling as if he'd won the interaction, but even he was still leaning forward himself, closer into their space. 

“And has that laid everything on account for? Or must I continue to abate my actions?”

“Hm, let me think on it.” Jamie says, a mischievous twinkle rising to their eyes.“What else might you have on offer?” 

They'd like to know their options first, before they decide.  

[harocat]

5, Hualian

Hello. There is a cat AGAIN. CW for animal death I guess, because it's a ghost cat, but it is being loved and cherished and there's no details.

----

Hua Cheng could never begrudge Xie Lian’s kindness. It was one of the things he adored about him, that he found so special. Among all the gods in the realm of heaven, in Hua Cheng’s opinion, only Xie Lian was good enough to deserve to watch over the prayers of the common people. 

But lately, and he’d never admit this to Xie Lian, lest the other man think he’d done something wrong, which he hadn't, Xie Lian’s kindness had come at a disadvantage. 

It had only been a couple weeks since Xie Lian had come back to Paradise Manor with the tiny black and white cat in his arms. It wasn’t a normal cat, but a ghost cat that had wandered to the entrance of Ghost City. Xie Lian had found him on the way back from a meeting with the heavenly court. Hua Cheng did not know what had befallen a friendly domestic cat that would cause it to return as a wandering soul, nor was he sure he wanted to know, but Xie Lian had not been able to resist its plaintive mews. 

And so now the cat, a little girl Xie Lian had named Jiahao, had free reign of Paradise Manor. The truth was, Hua Cheng was actually very happy Xie Lian had felt comfortable enough to bring the cat home without even asking beforehand. It showed he viewed Hua Cheng’s home as just as much his home, and that he fully understood, believed, and accepted that everything that belonged to Hua Cheng also belonged to him. He knew the Xie Lian he had met again years before would not have been able to do that. 

Xie Lian doted on the creature. She was a ghost cat, he reasoned, so she could eat whatever she wanted and it wouldn’t matter. This meant that if the cat asked for it, she got it. This was also fine. Hua Cheng wanted him to be happy. He would just get more food if they ran out. 

The bigger problem was that the cat clung to him like a particularly stubborn shadow. There was no time at which the cat wasn’t by Xie Lian’s side. He couldn’t even take a bath without Jiahao coming in and reaching in to playfully splash the surface. She slept with him, she ate with him, she bathed with him, she relaxed with him, and she even went out with him, walking alongside him dutifully. He imagined if E-ming had been a cat, it might act a little bit like Jiahao (though Jiahao, to her credit, was much quieter and mellower). 

In short, Hua Cheng missed Xie Lian. He missed having his full attention and cuddling with him and Xie Lian only having eyes for him, and he also missed sex, because it was hard to have sex when there was a cat in bed with you. And he was trying to be patient, because the cat made him happy, and Xie Lian’s happiness was tantamount to everything, but it was becoming difficult.

Was he jealous of a cat? Yes. A ghost cat, even, but as he himself was a ghost, he supposed that was irrelevant.

Xie Lian, to his credit, did finally notice. It had been Hua Cheng’s fault; he’d accidentally dropped his nonchalant front and scowled when Jiahao got with them one night. The cat licked both of them on the nose (she was sweet, he couldn’t deny), then nuzzled up to Xie Lian, coaxing him to open his arms so she could snuggle in them.

The scowl was, he imagined, quite dramatic. His brows were furrowed and his lips were drawn, and to anyone else, it might be frightening to have Crimson Rain Sought Flower looking at them that way (though to be fair, he was looking at the cat, not Xie Lian). 

Xie Lian froze, and concern crossed his features. “San Lang, what’s wrong?” he asked. He was still petting the cat, but he did reach over and press his other palm to Hua Cheng’s cheek. 

“Nothing, gege.” He shook his head. “I think I’m just tired.”

Xie Lian frowned. “San Lang, you rarely get tired. Please tell me what’s wrong.” 

“We haven’t had sex for two weeks,” Hua Cheng managed after a few moments of silence. That is not what he’d meant to say. 

The other man burst out into peals of laughter, and Hua Cheng thought, as always, that it was beautiful. “Why didn’t you just say something?”

He continued, despite his embarrassment. “Well, that cat is always here. I know you love that cat, but gege… it feels like you give her so much attention and…”

Xie Lian gasped. “Sang Lang, are you jealous of Jiahao?” There was a playful edge to his voice. 

Hua Cheng sighed. Jiahao meowed. 

“I just miss spending time with you alone.”

“You miss having my eyes on just you.” Xie Lian smiled, and he placed his other hand on Hua Cheng’s cheek as well, then squeezed. “I’m sorry. You give me so much, and in return I made my San Lang feel unloved.” 

“You’ve given me more than enough.”

Xie Lian shook his head. “Poor Jiahao. She’s a lonely ghost who has clearly been through so much, and she just wants to stay by the side of someone who loves her.” He glanced down at the cat, who had already dozed off. “Maybe I like her so much because she reminds me of someone else.” 

Hua Cheng’s mouth dropped open, and then he pursed his lips. “Gege…” 

“But I hate that you’ve felt neglected, San Lang,” he continued. “I’ll try to be more conscious of this so I can take proper care of both of you.” 

The other man shook his head. “Jiahao makes you happy. I’m glad you brought her back, gege.” 

“Mhmmm,” Xie Lian replied, “but I don’t want any of my happiness to come at my San Lang’s expense. We’re married. We exist to make each other happy. It goes both ways.”

Hua Cheng nodded, then after a few seconds, spoke up again. “Can we have Yin Yu take her some nights?” 

Xie Lian laughed again, beautiful. “Yes, and we can do whatever San Lang wants on those nights.” 

“What about tonight?” he asked, and he leaned forward, attempting to ignore the cat between them so he could whisper in his husband’s ear. Xie Lian pressed a playful kiss to Hua Cheng’s cheek, interrupting his attempt at seduction.

“Not tonight. I’m not moving Jiahao when she’s already fallen asleep.” 

Hua Cheng would have to look forward to tomorrow, but, he thought, that was fine. They had endless tomorrows. 

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 31

Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board!

Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note.

A short update this time :) Please enjoy!

I couldn't tell you why if I had to, but people have always told me, You're mature for your age.

It wasn't that I didn't appreciate the sentiment — Whatever it was — because at the very least, I could always tell it was supposed to be a compliment. It's just that I don't think I ever understood what I was doing that was so unusual it deserved a compliment, in the same way that most things that deserve compliments are unusual. I was never particularly smart, or pleasant to look at, or good at much of anything except, maybe, starting fights whenever they suited me. No, I was dumb, sour-looking, and bad at almost everything.

It was when our neighbour Betty told me the same thing that I finally realized why I hated hearing it so much.

Merle was right about you, The fat-faced lady smiled to me as I helped her hang her wet laundry in the sun to dry, her kids' laughter like echoes in the distance, their bicycle bells jabs to the heart. Sometimes I wish my little ones were more like you.

I remember watching the two kids in the dirty side-mirror of her small car, wishing I was more like them. But Merle had bragged to Betty that morning about how much I loved to help with chores, that I was mature for my age, that I didn't want to play.

It was as if I'd done something wrong without even knowing it.

I liked watching cartoon animals sing on TV. I liked doing my hair in the mirror and messing it up. I liked collecting sticks.

How could I have been mature?

Maybe it was because I never cried when I got beat?

It never mattered any — I didn't have a choice. It was already decided that I was, mature for my age.

Thank you, princess, Merle would croon to me, You're a good girl. You ain't like them other shitheads, is ya?

No, Merle, I'd reply, so many times that I ended up believing it, Never.

Walking in front of Glenn on our way back to the cell block, I sneak a glance at Carl at my side, catching his guilty expression.

I wonder what I did to deserve that rank, or if I ever even did?

Glenn takes the keys outta his pocket and unlocks the door for us. As it creaks open, I realize that I prolly shouldn't humour that line of thinking right now, because Lori is waiting for us in the cell hall as we step inside, gasping when she notices us.

"Oh, my God," She exclaims, spooking some of the others into turning their heads. "What hap—?"

"They wanted to find the infirmary," Glenn tells her before she can even ask. "Found them trapped in a room."

"What?" She looks from him, to us. "Are you crazy?"

We ain't supposed to respond that, but I'm guessing the answer is, Yes. 

"What made you think that was a good idea?"

"All things considered," Glenn admits, shrugging a shoulder as he passes the duffel bag to her, watching as she unzippers it. Inside, there's pill bottles and bandages piled high, making for an impressive sight. "We made out alright. Got just about everything we needed."

Maggie approaches us as Lori stammers before sighing, "It's hard to be very pleased with this, knowing how you got it."

"He's alright?" Glenn asks Maggie.

Nodding sullenly and looking at the bag in Lori's grasp, she asks, "Is this from the infirmary?"

"Yeah," Carl answers defiantly, "Me and Harley went. We had to."

Lori sighs, "We appreciate that—"

"Then get off my back."

"Carl," Glenn scolds him harshly. "Don't talk to her like that."

"Don't worry about it." Flustered, Lori brushes him off and nudges Carl's shoulder. "Just go wait for your father. Both of you."

We're so fucked, I think to myself as Carl lets out a begrudging huff and spins on his heels, stomping off in the direction of the dinner hall. With one last guilt-ridden glance at Glenn, I turn and follow the boy through the gate, unsure if I wish we had not gotten caught, or if we had just not gone at all. I sit next to him on one of the benches, with nothing else to look at except for the single door across from us.

An awkward silence settles in as Carl takes off his hat and sets it in his lap, fiddling with the brim.

"Sorry about before." He looks up at me, regret swimming in his sky-coloured eyes. "With the walker. I should've killed it."

It weren't exactly the best part of my day, but I don't blame him for it.

"It's okay."

"Not really," He insists, putting his hat back on. "Glenn was right. If he wasn't there—..."

I watch as he glances at something over my shoulder — Herschel's cell.

"I-I just didn't have a clear shot," He continues, meeting my gaze again. "Its head was so close to yours. I didn't wanna accidentally sh—"

"Okay," I interrupt him. "I'd be mad at'cha if ya did that."

I kinda need my head.

He pauses for a moment, before seeming to forgive himself, smiling a little. "Anyway. I just wanted to say that, before— Y'know."

Before our Dads get back.

"You make it sound like we're 'bouta die," I joke.

He shrugs fully, as if to say, You never know.

I'm counting the stains on my boot when the door opens.

"Food's here," T-Dog calls out with a toothy grin on his face, peeking out from behind the cardboard boxes in his grasp.

Carl and I stay quiet as Glenn and Lori come out from the cell hall to greet him and Rick, asking them where they found so much food. According to a very happy T, we got canned beef, canned corn, and even canned cans, all thanks to a deal they made with the prisoners, who I suppose have accepted by now that money ain't the way to bargain no more. They didn't look like the deal-making sort, but I know they don't have to be. It must've been that in exchange for some of their food, Rick didn't hang them all from a rafter somewhere. 

As T-Dog heads into the cell hall with the boxes, Rick places the two big bags of dried corn on the table.

Sparing us a short glance, he asks Lori, "Any change?"

"Bleeding is under control and no fever," The woman tells him, tucking her hair behind her ear with a blood-stained hand, and hesitating before she adds in a lower tone of voice, "But his breath is labored, his pulse is way down, and he hasn’t opened his eyes yet."

Rick opens his mouth to reply, but she cuts him off.

"And that isn't even the worst of it," She says coldly, nodding in our direction. "Guess what happened while you were gone?"

Just tell him already, I sigh to myself, wanting the band-aid to be ripped off already. Carol had the nerve to call us dramatic.

He frowns. "What?"

"They snuck out," Glenn admits, putting his hands on his hips. I watch Rick's expression morph from concern into something sharper, and more like cold anger. "Slipped right past us while we had our backs turned. Wanted to find the infirmary and get supplies."

"Nobody was hurt, thank God," Lori quickly interjects. "But this is something that affects all of us."

"Just thought you'd wanna know," Glenn adds.

Without even saying anything in reply, Rick calls out T-Dog's name, ordering him to go keep an eye on the prisoners.

"Tell Daryl to get in here," He adds in passing.

"Oh, God," I groan, but not quietly enough.

He agrees, "'Oh, God,' is right."

When my Dad appears in the doorway, approaching us with a frown on his face, all I want to do is grab ones of them spoons from the table nearby and start digging a grave for myself. Rick doesn't waste any time telling him what's going on, and I know I just said I wanted all of this to be over with already, but I take that back. My Dad's body seems to flood with anger as if it were just more blood in his veins.

"You did what?" He snarls at us, his lips curling into thin lines around his teeth, loud enough to make us flinch.

"There's far more pressin' matters for us to worry about right now," Rick lectures us, leaning back against the table opposite us and crossing his arms over his sweaty chest, "Than chasing after the two of you, 'cause you wanna go around playin' superheroes."

"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me," Dad grumbles as his outburst wears off, turning to pace around in the background.

"I shouldn't even be wastin' my breath on this," He says.

"Then don't," I quip. "We get it."

We all have a role, or whatever it was that Herschel said to us before his role almost killed him, anyway.

"No, I don't think you do." He argues, looking back and forth between me and Carl. "I'on think you get it at all."

"We put ourselves in danger," Carl says boredly.

"When you were specifically told not to," He pointedly adds, as my Dad sits down on the bench behind him, lacing his fingers in front of his mouth, glaring at us over his dirty knuckles. "I got T in the other room babysittin' the prisoners right now. I got a cell block to clear out, so that I can keep y'all safe in here; y'all don't have to sleep with your eyes open anymore. I'm not havin' tea and biscuits with 'em."

"We didn't think you were." Carl says convincingly. "We know this isn't a game. We know it's hard work."

"Hard work?" Dad interjects, pointing to the cell hall. "Look at that stump on Herschel's leg and tell me it's hard work."

The boy falters a little. "Okay. Okay, it's not hard work. It's—..."

"It's life or death."

I couldn't feel worse about what happened to Herschel — In fact, I feel partly responsible for it all just by the simple fact I weren't there to help — but to tell the truth, I couldn't give less of a shit that it's life or death out there. Why the Hell should I?

"What?" I can't stop myself from sassing, "So, it's fine if Herschel dies, but not us?"

"Harley, who here do you know is fine with Herschel dyin'?" Rick asks to make me feel stupid. "Maggie? Beth? Me?"

"Nobody, but— Y'all let him go wit'chu in the first place!"

"He's capable."

"So am I," I retort. "And don't talk to me 'bout, 'You're only nine,' because every one'a y'all have messed up at some point, too!"

"I'm not saying we haven't," He placates sternly. "We mess up all the time. But when push comes to shove, could you take me down?"

"Yes," I say without thinking, because that question makes no sense.

"Really? You could knock me on my ass?"

"Wanna find out?"

"Hey," My Dad grits. "Watch yer mouth."

"Because that's what you're gonna be face to face with when you're squarin' up to a walker, Harley. You got your knife. Your gun. You know how to take 'em down when they're behind a fence or twenty yards away. But at the end of the day, you ain't even pushin' four and a half feet yet, and you know as well as I do they'd eat you alive out there, no matter how tough you think you are. No matter how strong."

I hate that he's right. I sure couldn't take down that walker that had me by the arm before.

"Hell." He lets out a little laugh. "I've known full-grown men that thought the same thing."

"But I'm mature for my age," I say even though it means nothing, because even if it don't feel like it, I know it must be true.

Dad frowns deeply. "Who told you that?"

"Merle," I admit easily. "And Betty, and Mrs Kannard, and Dennis' Momma, and even Uncle Kyle. They all said it."

"Baby," He sighs harshly, always faltering at the mention of his brother. "You're just a kid. You ain't mature for nothin', alright?"

"So they was all lyin', then?"

"Yes. Yes, that's what people say to kids who ain't allowed to be kids," He explains without confusion, battling with his own impatience. "That's what they say so's they can boss ya around and make ya feel bad for cryin' after they make ya cry. S'just nonsense."

"It's not," I tell him. "It's 'cause I ain't like other kids. I'm— I'm tough. So's Carl. That's why."

"You're tough," He agrees, "But you ain't no different. You're just as dumb as any other kid I've ever met. Just as innocent."

Funny how when I'm bragging about how mature I am, I feel my smallest. I'm a phoney.

I guess it was all just another one of Merle's lies, then.

"I know you wanna help. I think it's really admirable of you. It shows you care; you have courage. It don't change the fact that these are your lives we're talking about here," Rick says softly after a long pause. "And I'm not gonna explain to you why that's important."

Embarrassed, I resume counting the stains on my boot because at least with this, there's a simple answer. I think he was right. I didn't get it. I ain't even sure I do now. It's all so confusing that it's makin' my head hurt like a sore thumb. What I learnt is that I'm important, but I'm not important enough to make a difference. I'm tough, but I'm also dumb and innocent, and for some reason, even though I love Herschel like he's my grandpa, and he's the reason so many of us haven't lost our minds yet, his life is more expendable than ours.

All I want to be is what people think I am. Merle thought I was mature. Carl thinks I'm helpful. Dad thinks I'm tough. I can't control what they think about me, but I can prove 'em right. If I's what I thought I was, I'd just be a useless girl, and I couldn't bare it.

"I'm going to assume the message was made clear." He says. "We can talk more later, alright?"

This ain't what I signed up for when I said yes to Carl.

As Rick pushes himself off the table, my Dad jokes, "Seems like you're always talkin' more later, Grimes."

"Tell me about it." He muses tiredly. "I need to go speak to Lori and then we can head out."

"Sure."

As he walks away, Dad scratches at his temple and considers me and Carl, before he drops his hand.

"That was fuckin' stupid, sneakin' off like that." He says plainly, like he's telling us the sky's blue. "You get that, right?"

"Yeah," We both say.

"I'm gonna throw y'all to the walkers if it ever happens again, ain't that right?"

"Yeah," We say again.

He slowly nods to himself. "Good. 'Cause I mean it. They like little kids the best."

Against my own will, I'm suddenly scrunching my nose at him and smiling. "No, they don't, Dad."

"Sure they do. They told me."

Carl clearly doesn't buy it. "Walkers can't talk, Daryl."

"That's what they want you to think," He says ominously, grabbing his crossbow and standing from the bench. "Tell ya what — We gon' be gone a while, but when we get back, I'mma be pickin' off some of them walkers in the courtyard. Need me some volunteers."

"Me," I quickly stick my hand up like I'm in school again. "I'll do it."

"And me," Carl nods.

"Okay," Dad lilts as I lower my hand. "But only if you're free."

"We're free," I confirm. Anything is better'un washin' dishes. "We're super free. Free-est we ever been."

His mouth twitches up into an amused smirk. "Alright, then."

Rick marches back into the dinner hall, stuffing a glock in the back of his pants line and nodding toward the door. "C'mon. We're up."

"Stay your asses in the cell block this time," He warns us before slinging his crossbow over his shoulder and following after him.

The door clatters shut.

I let out a big breath.

"We're alive," Carl says, shocked.

Not wanting to jinx it, I stand from the bench and we head back into the cell hall together.

End Notes.

The phrase, "You're mature for your age," in my opinion, is almost never a good thing. Or even true!

As a kid who was told this all the time growing up, I know that it's mainly because of people mistaking trauma in children for maturity. I wanted to reflect my experiences in Harley's. I make a point try not to project any of my own feelings or opinions onto characters because I want them to stay authentic, but I felt like it would be plausible that she went through the same thing as I did.

Hope you enjoyed this short chapter!

@poetoflawed

[piccioneceleste]

When the Doctor Belonged to Her

As the Doctor and Rose settle back into the TARDIS following their trip to New Earth, Rose can't seem to shake her feelings for him. Feelings that have only intensified since he regenerated. Little does she know, the Doctor is feeling very much the same way about her.

The ongoings of the Doctor and Rose's relationship between episodes of series two.

Chapter 4

It didn’t take the Doctor and Rose long to forget that they’d agreed to try to keep their distance whilst Mickey was onboard. The pull they each felt was impossible to ignore. The Doctor reached for Rose’s hand automatically as they walked, his arm would wrap around her whenever she was sat beside him, and they looked at each other with such love in their eyes it was impossible not to notice. They may not have kissed or gone to bed together, but as far as Mickey was concerned, they may as well have. There was no denying how they felt about one another.

In fact, that very morning, the reason they ended up in a parallel universe in the first place was because they’d almost forgotten Mickey was there. They were too busy cosied up on the jump seat, reminiscing about an adventure they’d been on for which Mickey hadn’t been present.

“It’s just you and him isn’t it?” Mickey had said, and Rose couldn’t deny it.

She closed the TARDIS doors on him now, trying not to let her tears become sobs. Mickey, her lovely Mickey who loved her so much he’d do anything for her, was gone. Stuck in a parallel universe forever. She didn’t have much right to cry, she knew. They hadn’t been together for a long time, and she hadn’t treated him as well as he had deserved, but it was painful to see him go nonetheless. They’d known each other since they were kids, been through the struggle of growing up poor, fatherless, and looked down on by the rest of society together. As adults, they’d been through even more and done things those who had looked down on them would never have thought them capable of. Through it all, Mickey had been there, or at least waiting for her at home. And now he was gone forever.

“You ok?” the Doctor looked over to where she stood, still in her waitress outfit, back against the closed TARDIS doors.

She just nodded.

“Well we’re safely out of the parallel universe, everything’s up and running again,” he told her.

She nodded again. “That’s good,” she said quietly. “I think I’m just gonna go to bed, is that ok?”

“Oh - yeah. That’s fine. Of course.” He gave her a sad smile as he watched her cross the console room, looking so distraught it broke his heart. All he wanted to do was hold her, make her feel better, but he knew that wasn’t what she needed right now.

Even though she was so upset about Mickey, the jealousy he had felt previously had dissipated. He couldn’t begrudge her this; he knew how it felt to lose someone you care about. Her feelings were understandable and she needed to feel them, but he knew that in her own time she would feel better and she would come to him. Things would go back to normal, to back before he had messed it all up, trying to be noble by inviting Mickey aboard. It would go back to being just the two of them. He and his Rose, together in the TARDIS, just as it should be. Keep Reading:

[justallihere]

THANK YOUUUUUU😭💕🥹🫶 this week has been so terrible and I literally squealed when the chapter was posted and told everyone in my house not to speak to me for 4 hours. Loved this chapter sm 😭 wish I could erase my memory and start the fic over again

I was one of the people asking when Cat would appear again and I’m so happy Violet verbally bitch slapped her and we should’ve gotten more of this in canon

Violet falling asleep in the library 😭 she couldn’t sleep in the bed by herself I’m gonna scream

What was Xadens unreadable expression about when she was untangling herself from the blanket? What’s he thinking in that moment?

Garrick being so afraid of Violet is literally the funniest thing to me considering he’s bigger than Xaden 😭

I wonder if Xaden feels some type of way now that Violet is pretty much on good terms with/forgiven everyone except him and Brennan. I’m sure he understands why he deserves her anger but feelings aren’t rational and he’s possessive af

Can’t wait for the heist omggg. This version of Cam is hilarious and such a little shit I just know he’s gonna cause problems and Violet will actually have to step in and protect him from Xaden😭

Lastly I love iron squad sm. Them acting cold to Liam is nothing tbh because at least they liked him. Xaden, honey, you got a big storm coming.

Thank you so much!!! I hope your week gets better 🩷🩷

Xaden is feeling so many different things right now. He really didn’t want to invite Violet on this little expedition, so most of it is that he’s warring with himself internally about actually doing it and the potential danger it puts her (both of them, really) in. Also taking care of Violet in the little ways and touching her is pretty ingrained with him, so he’s having to remind himself that he can’t interact with her like he normally would and he’s not a fan lol

Garrick is probably the character with the most respect for Violet and he is the one who constantly sees beyond her fragile exterior to what’s underneath. He’s never for a moment forgotten what she’s capable of, and that just because she seems nice doesn’t mean she can’t kill him easily. He’s a general; his job is to evaluate people for their usefulness on a battlefield or to gauge how much of a threat they are. He knows they’re lucky Violet is on their side

Xaden would never begrudge Violet having friends or people on her side. Would he love to just tie her to his side forever? Yeah, but he wants her to be safe and cared for too. If he can’t do it, at least people he trusts can help with that. He’s also got enough of an ego that he knows it means she cares for him more/differently than the other so that’s good for him I guess lol

I love Cam 😭 and the squad 😭 they’re my babies

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Pomegranate Ink: XXIV

Series Synopsis: Unable to heal but willing to fight, with a fiancé in Kyoto and a last name that looms over everything you do, you accept an offer to study at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. What you did not know was that your salvation and your ruination alike would soon join you at the school, neatly wrapped in the form of a boy followed by death.

Chapter Synopsis: You must deal with the Zenins in order to be able to recommend your classmates for well-deserved promotions.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.3k

Content Warnings: angst, misogyny, naoya zenin, forbidden relationships, canon-typical violence, character death, original characters included

A/N: you all know what the next chapter is 😔

“You really think they’re ready for that kind of designation?” Todo said. You and him were sitting across from one another in some cafe or another, each sipping on your own drinks. You nodded.

“Gojo agrees. He’s the one who mentioned it, actually, and of course he would never force me to give a recommendation if I didn’t believe it was earned, but in my opinion, those seven have definitely earned it,” you said.

“The Zenins will have something to say about it,” Todo said.

“Since when have either of us ever cared about what the Zenins say?” you said, arching a brow at him. Todo chuckled, taking a bite out of the pastry he had ordered and chewing contemplatively.

“That’s true,” he said. “Alright, then. I’ll trust your judgment as always. When should we go?”

“Later,” you said. “The thought of going to headquarters right now is giving me a migraine. Besides, I have some errands to run and things to do in the meanwhile; I just wanted to check in with you and make sure that you were on board with the idea.”

“What would you have done if I wasn’t?” Todo said.

“I don’t really know. Gojo couldn’t give his recommendation as he’s a teacher, and Yuta’s overseas, so he couldn’t, either. I suppose we might’ve had to pay Mei Mei or tried to convince Nanami, but I’m pretty sure Nanami regrets giving us his recommendation, so I doubt he’d do it again,” you said.

“What, does he think we’re weak or something?” Todo said, clearly fired up at the perceived insult. Immediately, you shook your head.

“No, not at all. He acknowledges our strength — it’s just that he feels bad putting so much responsibility on the shoulders of two children, or at least that’s the vibe I was getting,” you said.

“That does make a bit more sense, but he’s being optimistic if he thinks childhood excludes us from the reality of this world,” he said.

“It’s his viewpoint, so I won’t try to argue for or against it,” you said. “Worst case, we would’ve called Kaito.”

Todo made a face. “Good thing it didn’t come to that.”

Kaito Hinode was Tullia’s cousin, and the reason she had even come to Japan in the first place. Although he was definitely handsome, and talented enough as a sorcerer, those two qualities were about all he had going for him. He was widely known throughout jujutsu society for being air-headed and scatterbrained, and he was reckless to boot, always somehow ending up in your family’s manor getting healed. Though he would definitely give his recommendation if you asked, the higher ups usually did not take him very seriously despite allowing him to be a Grade 1 sorcerer — in fact, the only reason it had been alright that he had been one of the ones to recommend you and Todo was because the other was the levelheaded Nanami, who even the higher ups had a begrudging respect for.

“Exactly,” you said. “It’s for the best that you agreed to it, especially because now it won’t just seem like favoritism or Gojo and I just promoting the people we like for no reason.”

“I don’t think the higher ups would’ve thought that either way. Like it or not, recommending your friends for Grade 1 status puts them in more danger, and you aren’t the kind of person that would do that unless you were absolutely sure they could handle it. Maybe they wouldn’t put it past Gojo, but everyone knows how much you love your friends,” Todo said.

“That’s true enough,” you said.

“What errands are you running today, then?” Todo said. You drew up a mental list of the things you had to do before you responded, already annoyed just at the thought of some of them.

“First, I have to visit the Zenin clan,” you said.

“What? Why would you ever put yourself through that?” he said. You gave him a look.

“You know that they have to be made aware of Maki and Megumi getting promoted, right? It’s better if I go than you, so don’t worry. I’m used to how they operate, so I’ll make sure there isn’t an issue with it. It’ll be more like a formal notice than a request for permission,” you said. Todo frowned.

“Just be careful, and don’t hesitate to call me for help if you need it. I’m not really doing anything much today, so I’ll be there in a flash if I hear that they’re bothering you,” he said.

“Thanks, Todo. It shouldn’t be a problem; the Zenins know to tread carefully around me. Naoya’s suspension was only lifted recently, and they’re all aware of the fact that I have the Kamos, L/Ns, and Gojos on my side,” you said. “It wouldn’t be to their advantage to outright hurt me. Now, I’m sure they’ll argue about what I’m going to tell them, but that’s to be expected.”

“I always forget that my rival is a child of nepotism,” Todo said. “Or maybe it’s that I purposefully try to not think about it. It’s the most boring thing about you, you know.”

“I don’t know if calling an inherited technique ‘nepotism’ is exactly right, but you could look at it that way, sure,” you said. “Anyways, after dealing with the Zenins, I’m going to go get some new curtains for my room. I’m bored with the ones I have right now.”

“I’d offer to help with that, too, but I doubt you’d want my help with interior design,” Todo said. “Even if I am really skilled at it.”

“Right, I think I’m good, but thanks for the offer,” you said. You actually didn’t doubt that Todo had an eye for interior design, as he seemed like the type who would, but you had this sense that your tastes differed in some ways, so it’d probably be for the best if you left him behind this time.

“Since you have so much to do, you should probably get going, huh?” he said. “Like I told you, I’ll keep my phone on. The instant you call, I’ll be there.”

“Thank you, Todo,” you said. “I promise that if I need something while I’m at the Zenin manor, you’ll be the third person I reach out to.”

“The third?” he said, scandalized. You placed your hands on his shoulders.

“The first would obviously be Gojo, and the second would be Noritoshi, both of whom would be much better suited to dealing with clan politics than you. If they’re both busy, then I’ll be certain to ring you,” you said. He knocked your hands away with a huff.

“I see how it is,” he said.

“Don’t be too offended. I like you better for not being born a clan heir,” you said.

“Your attempts to save face are not working,” he said.

“Maybe I should leave before I shove my foot further into my mouth, then,” you said. “See you around. I'll text you to come pick me up when it’s time to go to headquarters.”

“See you then, Y/N,” he said.

The Zenin mansion was a technically beautiful building. You had to admit this much, even though you hated the clan and everything they stood for — they had the aesthetic of a wealthy family down. They were not as extravagant as the Gojos, who had everything in excess, but neither were they as traditional and austere as the Kamos, who adhered to the thoughts and practices of their forebears rather strictly. It was something in between, a kind of class that was borne from a mixture of opulence and convention.

The gate did not squeal at all when you opened it, stepping into the courtyard of the massive home. Soft pink flowers dusted from a towering tree, the petals dancing in the breeze and giving an ethereal quality to the atmosphere. Somewhere, someone was playing the piano, and it was the most beautiful song you had ever heard, a mournful tune that floated out through an open window and tangled with the blossoms as they fell.

“Y/N L/N,” a stern voice said. You blinked, breaking out of your daze and finding yourself face to face with a man you knew to be Ogi Zenin — as in, the father of your best friend, Maki. “What business do you have here?”

“I come as a courtesy to the Zenins. However, my business is with Naobito, not you,” you said. Ogi did not seem like he was inclined to believe you, crossing his arms.

“Naobito is the head of the Zenin clan. He does not have the time nor the will to deal with a L/N grunt like you,” he said.

“L/N grunt?” you repeated. “It’s ironic of you to call me that when I’m a Grade 1 sorcerer, and the girl who brought someone back to life. In fact, I’d actually argue that I’m exactly the sort of person that Naobito would want to deal with.”

“Whether you’ve done all of that or not is irrelevant. You’re still a nobody in your clan, and nobodies don’t have the status required to meet with clan heads,” he said, moving to close the door on your face. “Is that all?”

“Wait!” you said. If you didn’t get this audience with Naobito, then you wouldn’t be able to recommend Maki and Megumi. It was one of those ridiculous rules that was stopping the promotion you were trying so desperately to give, and maybe Ogi understood why you were there, maybe that was why he was behaving in this way, but you refused to back down. The Zenins had ruined Maki’s life enough already, and you would not let them continue on in such a manner. “The piano. Take me to the person who is playing the piano.”

“The piano? Are you certain?” Ogi said, and now he seemed apprehensive in a way he had not before.

“Yes,” you said. “I know this piece; it is a difficult one, and yet they play it flawlessly. I want to give them my compliments.”

Ogi furrowed his brow, but he exhaled heavily, beckoning you in and bidding you follow him. You did so at once, not wanting to squander the opportunity you had been given. It was your hope that whoever was playing the piano would be a bit more agreeable than Ogi and would at least take you to Naobito, who you could then argue with until he accepted your words.

“Don’t think that this will go how you want it to,” Ogi warned as you reached the room where the music was originating from. “I know what you’re planning, but it won’t work.”

“I’m not planning anything,” you said. “You can just think of me as a music lover.”

Ogi slid the door open. “Tell that to him.”

The song abruptly stopped, and your eyebrows shot up involuntarily when you saw who had been playing. He looked confused, standing up as if to reprimand whoever had interrupted him, but when he saw you standing beside Ogi, a sly smirk formed on his face, his fox-like eyes gleaming.

“Well, well, well,” Naoya said, crossing his arms. “To what do I owe the pleasure of the L/N girl paying a visit to my study?”

“She wanted to pay you her compliments for your musical skill,” Ogi said, clearly amused at your obvious horror. This was, quite literally, the absolutely worst way things could have gone. You had been planning on avoiding Naoya for the entire visit, but yet here you were, standing at the doorway of his study, with him as your only hope at getting to meet Naobito Zenin.

“Is that so?” Naoya said, curling his index finger at you. “Well, you can hardly praise me from there, can you? Come inside, little L/N. You can leave us, uncle. I’d like to hear these compliments alone.”

“Certainly,” Ogi said, shutting the door behind you with a finality as you stepped inside with all the mechanical jerkiness of a wind-up toy. Naoya sat back down on the stool, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, peering up at you as if he were some kind of pillar of innocence.

“So, then? I’m excited. Did you really like my piano playing that much?” he said.

“You’re certainly better at piano than sorcery,” you said through gritted teeth. “Though that’s not really saying a lot.”

“You are so beautiful, and yet you say such crude things,” Naoya said, sighing and leaning back against the window. “It’s such a shame. I’d like you more if you kept your mouth shut more often.”

“I’m not exactly here to please you. I have to meet your father,” you said.

“And here I thought you were so fond of me for saving you after that snake curse almost killed you,” he said sardonically. “It’s not a surprise that you’re not here for me. I didn’t think you would be.”

All semblance of the gentler facade vanished without a trace, and he became the Naoya you were accustomed to — harsh, brash, arrogant, blunt, and rude. You scowled at him. He scowled back, though it was infuriatingly mocking instead of angry, like he found your irritation entertaining.

“You’re still proud of yourself for that?” you said.

“I consider it my greatest achievement,” he shot back. “I’ve thought about making that picture my home screen so I can be reminded of it every day.”

“You’re a freak,” you said.

“And you’re a girl,” he said.

“That’s not an insult, so I don’t know why you’ve framed it as one,” you said.

“The fact that you don’t realize it’s an insult only further proves your simplicity,” he said.

“Will you take me to meet your father or not?” you said. Naoya pretended to contemplate this, hemming and hawing like he hadn’t made a decision before you even asked the question.

“No,” he said. “After all, what’s in it for me? Unless you can offer me something worthwhile in exchange, that is, because if you can, then I’ll definitely oblige.”

“What do you want?” you said. For him to be making that kind of request suggested that he already had some kind of payment in mind, and furthermore, knowing Naoya, that payment wasn’t something you’d really want to give him.

“I want to marry you,” he said. “And no, it’s not because I like you, so don’t get the wrong idea in your head. On the whole, I think you’re far too stubborn and don’t accept your place in society, so you’d likely make a shitty wife, but at the end of the day, I want to be the next head of the Zenin clan, and for me to do that, to beat out the rest of my family for the title, I need something big by my side. Something like the backing of the L/Ns. Something like a wife who’s brought a man back to life.”

“Even if I would agree to that kind of an unfair exchange — which, by the way, I wouldn’t — who I marry isn’t up to me to decide. You must’ve forgotten, but I’m already engaged to Noritoshi, so I can’t just say yes to this kind of proposal and be done with the affair. I wouldn’t dare incur the wrath of the Kamos like that,” you said.

“The Zenins would protect you. You forget that the Kamos need the L/Ns in order to stay relevant, just like the L/Ns need the Kamos in order to elevate their status. You’re the key to it all, Y/N, the one who can shift the balance between the clans,” he said. It was the first time he had ever said your name. You hoped he would never say it again. Even if being referred to as the L/N girl was degrading, your name was your own, something that you were loath to share with someone like him.

“I’m not some kind of key,” you said. “I’m just an ordinary sorcerer. I don’t know why the clans are so invested in what I do or who I marry. Bringing someone back to life was a one-time thing, and even though I am so talented with Composition, it’s reliant on somebody else’s power, so I’d say it barely even counts. Besides, it’s not a guarantee that any children I have will inherit Dissection and Composition from me, so I don’t know why any of you think that that’s a certainty.”

“It’s not a certainty, but there’s definitely a high chance that they will,” Naoya said. “Look, those are my terms. Say you’ll marry me, and I’ll let you meet my father. It’s the only chance you’ll get to talk to him, so make a decision quickly and be done with it.”

“What do you think Gojo will say if he finds out about this?” you said. Mentioning Gojo’s name was a surefire way to get the clans off your back when they were irritating you too much — though they didn’t love him, they had to respect him, as he was the sole representative of the Gojo clan and also the strongest sorcerer of the time.

“He might not be pleased, but haven’t you noticed that despite being under his wing, you’re still engaged to Noritoshi? Do you think he’d do anything if that engagement was transferred to me, instead?” he said.

“Yes, because he knows I don’t like you,” you said. “Everyone knows it. You think the higher ups won’t be suspicious that you’re marrying a girl that got you suspended from sorcery? It won’t ensure your place as clan head. It’ll just make you look like an idiot.”

“Fine, then,” he said. “Don’t marry me. Do something else for me in return.”

“What?” you said, trying not to sound too eager. Almost anything was better than marriage to Naoya; though it was definitely a beneficial union for him, it was the opposite for you. If you had to marry someone in one of the Big Three clans, then you were perfectly happy with Noritoshi, who was content with letting you do as you pleased and actually treated you like an equal and friend instead of a servant.

“Come listen to me play the piano again someday,” he said. “And actually say something heartfelt about it when you do.”

You were sure that in the meantime, he’d try his very best to convince your parents to let you marry him instead of Noritoshi, citing this future meeting as proof that you liked him, too. But this was not a big deal for you — you’d protest vehemently if your parents tried to dissolve your engagement with Noritoshi, and if they went ahead with it regardless, then you really would run away to live with Gojo. Anyways, the L/Ns were a passive clan, so they likely wouldn’t go back on an agreement with the Kamos for fear of a retaliation that they could not handle.

“Sure,” you said. “You should probably practice a bit more if you want what I say to be kind, though.”

“You just want to have the last word,” Naoya observed. “I’m the best pianist in the Zenin clan.”

He was right, but you weren’t about to tell him that. Unfortunately, you had never heard someone play the piano with as much skill as him, so there wasn’t much to critique in that area, but you would rather die than say something nice to Naoya Zenin, so you didn’t mention that, either.

“Now that you’ve gotten your promise of payment, take me to your father,” you said. Naoya stood gamely, offering you his arm. You sneered at it in disgust, and he rolled his eyes before lowering it.

“I suppose that that would be expecting too much out of you. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay three steps behind me. I don’t know what the L/Ns have taught you, but in the Zenin household, that’s what’s customary for women, and you’re no exception,” he said.

You suppressed the urge to imitate his smarmy words and way of speaking, deciding that there was no point in it when you had already just barely convinced him to give you an audience with his father. Instead, you made sure to stomp your feet as you stayed the ‘customary three paces’ behind him, sounding quite a bit like a petulant child but having no other way to express your disdain for the arrangement.

“Here we are,” Naoya said. “I’ll see you soon, little L/N.”

“Not too soon,” you said, shouldering past him so that you could make your way into the room where Naobito Zenin was reclining, downing something alcoholic that spilled past the corners of his mouth and dripped onto the floor. The scent of his drink filled the room, and for an entire minute, you stood in front of him and waited for him to put it down and notice your presence.

“Who let you in here?” he said after a bit, using the back of his hand to wipe at his face and gazing up at you groggily, blinking slowly and squinting like the light from the window behind you was too harsh. “Huh? Y/N L/N? How’d you come in?”

“That’s not what you should be concerned with. Rather, it is the purpose of my visit that is of import. Have you guessed it yet?” you said. Naobito coughed. You did not flinch.

“You want to promote that girl,” he said.

“Maki,” you said. “That’s correct. Today, in the evening, I will be one of the two sorcerers giving her and Megumi their initial recommendations. The rules dictate that you be made aware of both.”

“Megumi Fushiguro, eh? That’s fine. He has the Ten Shadows, so it’s a wonder it took so long for him to get the recommendations in the first place,” Naobito said.

“You’re going to try and stop me from recommending Maki though, aren’t you?” you guessed.

“How’d you find another Grade 1 willing to recommend her? She’s not particularly strong, so why would she get promoted in the first place?” he said.

“You weren’t there for the most recent exchange event, so I’ll forgive you for your ignorance, but the truth is that Maki’s gone toe to toe with a special grade curse already. Even if she didn’t win, just being able to fight back against something of that magnitude is clear evidence that she’s deserving of the status,” you said.

“She doesn’t even have a cursed technique,” Naobito said. You exhaled, pinching the bridge of your nose to ward off your coming headache. This was why you hated dealing with the higher ups — they were the most ridiculously traditional people to ever exist on the face of the earth.

“I didn’t want to do this, but since you insist on being difficult, I’ll remind you: Maki is my best friend, and she is Satoru Gojo’s pupil. Consequently, she has the support of the L/Ns and the Gojos. Do you think that continuing to block her promotion will end up well for you? At the end of the day, no matter how self-sufficient the Zenins are, none of them can heal. You can isolate yourselves if you choose, but without the help of the L/Ns or Shoko Ieri, all of you will eventually die in the war against curses,” you said.

“And do you speak for the L/Ns, girl?” Naobito said. “They don’t even respect you. You think that some ‘administrative delay’ stopped them from coming during the exchange event? Don’t be ridiculous. The Kamo boy was injured, so there’s not a soul alive that would’ve stopped them from going to that school if they wanted to.”

“What?” you said, your blood going cold. Naobito wheezed out a laugh.

“You are naive, aren’t you? Your father was the one who said that the L/Ns wouldn’t come to help,” he said.

“Why would he do that?” you said. Naobito shrugged lazily, tossing the now empty pitcher at the wall. It shattered with a deafening crash, clay shards flying everywhere. To punctuate it, Naobito burped.

“I dunno. I’ve never understood the ways of you L/Ns. You’d have to ask him yourself,” he said.

“I don’t have the time to go to the manor just to talk to him,” you said. “I have things to do. Sorcerers to recommend.”

“You’re still going on about that?” Naobito said. “Fine. I give you my permission. Go ahead and recommend Maki. It’s not like you’ll be the one supervising her, anyways. I’ll ensure it’s only ever members of my clan that take her on the missions; see if she becomes a Grade 1 then!”

“She’ll prove you wrong,” you said. “Do you understand that? She’s stronger than you realize. She’ll become a Grade 1 sorcerer in spite of what you’re doing here.”

“You both make a foolish pair,” he said. “Two girls that think they can face the clans and win.”

“Maybe I’ll never be anything more than a puppet,” you allowed. “But not her. She’s the one who will break free from all of this. She’s the one who will take you down.”

“Maki Zenin has all the strength of a flyhead,” Naobito said.

“Then I wonder how weak that must make you,” you said with a bow. “Good day, sir. Thank you for your compliance. I will report to the higher ups at once.”

Todo pulled up to the department store you were shopping for curtains at in good time. He took your bags from you and put them in the trunk, and then he opened the door to the passenger seat before ensuring you were buckled up and your phone was connected to the Bluetooth radio so you could play music. Only then did he begin to drive towards the jujutsu headquarters, singing along to whatever songs you put on in his surprisingly melodic voice.

“By the way, Todo, are you really sure you’re okay with this?” you said. He paused mid-high-note, giving you a confused look.

“Of course I am! I want my brother to get the recognition he deserves,” he said. “And it’ll be fun to accompany him on his missions. Getting the chance to watch him continue to learn and improve, taking part in the improvement…it’ll be a rush for sure!”

“Huh? Wait, Todo, don’t you remember—”

“I know what you’re going to say,” he said, cutting you off. “There’s a chance I might not be the one who’s assigned as his supervisor. Well, let me tell you something here and now: Yuji Itadori and I are meant to be together! He is more than just my best friend, he is my brother, and that’s a bond you’ll never understand. Us being together on our missions…why, it’s just destiny!”

“Um, actually, it’s not. Like I was saying, don’t you remember that recommenders can’t also be supervisors? That’s why Nanami and Kaito weren’t able to supervise us on our missions, and why Naoya had to step in at one point — due to the lack of Grade 1 sorcerers as a whole. We won’t be able to accompany any of them on missions, at least not on ones directly related to their promotions,” you said.

Todo slammed on the brakes, which prompted several honks from the cars behind him that had obviously not been expecting the abrupt stop.

“What?”

Walking through jujutsu headquarters with Todo beside you reminded you of the summertime, of the many missions you had had to take in order to reach full Grade 1 status. It was nostalgic in a way, and then as you walked towards the main office, you remembered what it had been like when Nanami and Kaito had given you their recommendations. Elbowing Todo, who was still grieving the news that he couldn’t supervise Itadori, you grinned up at him.

“Can you believe it? Not so long ago, we were the ones getting recommended,” you said.

“The start of our rivalry, huh? Well, I guess that was the exchange event, but I’d argue that being recommended at the same time cemented it,” he said, cheering up slightly. You weren’t sure if the setting sun was making the memories softer, but for some reason, you felt particularly fond at the moment, thinking back to those times.

“Now we’re the ones giving recommendations,” you said. “It’s crazy how far we’ve come. It’s only been about a year or so since I even became a sorcerer, and now I’m a Grade 1. You know, before joining the school, I was really unhappy.”

“You were?” he said.

“Of course I was. I was considered the failure of my clan, a girl who couldn’t even heal a papercut. I spent my time locked away in my room, told that the only thing I could ever amount to was a dutiful wife for a clan head. But what kind of an existence is that? Becoming a sorcerer was the first time I did something for myself. I took control of my life, and look at where that’s landed me! I can use Composition now, I’ve even revived someone with it, and I’m a first class sorcerer, as well,” you said. “I didn’t realize how wonderful it could be to be my own person, but now I’m so glad I got that chance.”

“I’m glad, too,” Todo said. “After all, I’d never be as strong as I am now without your advice and our rivalry to push me forwards!”

“You know what? I don’t even want to know what you mean when you refer to the advice I give you. I think I’ll never understand it, but I’m fine with that,” you said, finally giving up for good on trying to comprehend Todo’s method. “Let’s go and deal with some dusty old men now, shall we?”

“After you,” he said, opening the door and motioning for you to enter. Once, you would’ve been apprehensive, but now you walked in with confidence, your chin held high and your back straight, your strides even and measured. You were meant to be there. You weren’t an imposter. You were deserving of your place in this society.

“Y/N L/N and Aoi Todo,” Principal Gakuganji said. “The two of you understand better than anyone what it means to be Grade 1 sorcerers. Yet you still believe you should go ahead with this?”

“Yes,” Todo said from beside you, no longer his goofy self but every bit the proud and strong sorcerer that one would expect someone of his appointment to be. “We believe we should.”

“The Zenins will never allow her to be promoted,” Principal Gakuganji said. You smiled politely at him, though your every word had daggers behind it when you spoke.

“I already received permission from Naobito Zenin, so that’s not a problem. They’re fine with us giving her and Megumi our recommendations,” you said. “You can’t argue with this, sir. You saw them at the event, and you heard about their performances against the special grade curse that hijacked the team challenge. All of them deserve the promotion.”

“Grade 1 sorcerers are top of the line. They are the peak of sorcery, bar the special grades of course. You understand that?” Principal Gakuganji stressed. You and Todo exchanged looks before nodding. “They are meant to be the leaders amongst other sorcerers. Think over that carefully, and then repeat what you just said to me.”

“There’s no need to think about it,” you said.

“Absolutely none,” Todo agreed.

“Maki Zenin,” you began. “Elakshi Sakhare. Tullia Ferraro. Panda.”

“Nobara Kugisaki. Megumi Fushiguro,” Todo added, “and my brother, Itadori Yuji.”

“These are the seven that I, by my name as Y/N L/N —”

“And I, by my name as Aoi Todo —”

“Recommend for grade 1 sorcerer status.”

[oldestenemy]

the deathless, the undying, and the unwilling diving - part 7

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Duncan Grimwater and his classmates—almost friends—half-a-professor—watch as the Wizard gets bodily ripped out of their battle placement and thrown the full length of the hall.

He doesn’t know who is screaming and who isn’t.

He doesn’t know why he fights off the urge to recoil when the sound of the wizard’s skull hitting stone rings out.

He doesn’t know how it’s even possible to get ripped out of a dueling ring in the first place.

He is really really sick of not knowing what’s going on.

But there isn’t time to be angry, there isn’t time to feel anything because they are so close and none of them can risk losing this.

“They’re not moving.” Marla has managed to keep it almost completely together this whole time—which is no small feat and Duncan knows it, like him she masks a lot of her feelings with curiosity and confidence and a large dash of crushing-it-down. But she is staring at the wizard’s body on the ground by the doorway and the hand outstretched towards her spell cards is shaking.

Penny and Malorn aren’t faring much better. Sharing the horror-hollow look they’d both had in Nidavellir. Like they were aware of something that everyone else was missing.

It doesn’t matter.

“They’ll be fine.” Duncan is pretty sure of that, forbidden magic and backlash be damned, the Spiral probably wasn’t done with them yet. “Just focus, all of you.”

Maybe he’s imagining it, but even the shadow of Malistaire across the ring is no longer looking at his opponents. He’s looking at the wizard. Crumpled and motionless on the ground.

“Ready?” Penny’s voice is wavering a little, but she’s looking expectantly at Duncan for confirmation this round can end it. He nods back at her.

It will be enough.

All of them watch and wait as the spell impacts.

The room shakes.

The dragon retreats back away from the gaping hole in the ceiling, vanishing into the dark.

And Malistaire Drake, wrapped in ink-dark shadow, begins to shimmer and shift into something that looks more and more like the man that three of them remember, that all of them idolized on some level.

Duncan can see it as his vision clears.

His words are still angry, but it is a broken, desperate sort of anger.

And Duncan turns away, walking towards the wizard’s body.

He doesn’t want to do this.

Doesn’t want to waste the fleeting time he will have.

He wants to do literally anything else.

But the wizard is unconscious on the ground and the fight is over and they are—again—showing no sign of recovering alone from the amount of Shadow magic they expended.

“Duncan—”

He brushes past Malorn in silence, lifting the Shadow Point from where it lay some feet from where the wizard was thrown.

If they can do it so can I.

If they can do it—

It scrapes the stone like chalk, he’s pretty sure the others are talking, probably to Malistaire, he isn’t listening. He wants to be listening. He wants to be back there but something about this whole awful situation won’t let him. One placement. One circle. Enough to heal. As much as he hates admitting it, the wizard deserves to see this through with the rest of them. They are the reason he gets this closure. Despite everything, despite being the reason Malistaire was dead in the first place—he can’t begrudge them this.

“Duncan—what are—” Malorn is back and Duncan really wishes he would just use the time he’s got instead of getting in the way. But he’s never really known anything else, so it’s hardly a surprise.

“—I’m doing what you said I should, Ashthorn—I’m thinking about someone who isn’t me.” Duncan spits back. He presses the blade down into the center of the circle and steps in, pulling out a single card, and it’s nothing special, it’s just a Fairy, just a treasure card. But they’d been so adamant about not hurting anyone else to heal themself—at least, they had been that night.

He half expects it not to work.

But there is a burst of violet light and a sudden rush of frigid cold that feels nothinglike how Ice magic is cold, nothing like how Death can be cold, this is cold as in devoid of warmth, of heat, of anything. So cold it feels like his blood is solidifying in his veins, like there should be a horrid crackling popping sound as he moves.

The card holds.

It casts.

It casts and the wizard is stirring and as the circle shudders and blinks out, Duncan drops to his knees because he physically can’t hold himself up.

It feels like his lungs are full of water suddenly.

Is he crying?

Why is he crying?

He can’t breathe.

~*~

The wizard feels like they’ve been hit by a bus.

Not that they’ve ever been hit by a bus.

But they’re pretty sure this is what it would feel like.

Everything hurts, sharp and immediate and hurt feels like too delicate of a word but they don’t have a better one because it’s so all encompassing that if someone asked they wouldn’t be able to pinpoint the pain, just that it was there and intense.

They hear the ending twinkle of the Fairy spell.

But…

They got thrown out of the ring.

And they’re pretty sure you can’t drag an unconscious combatant into a dueling circle and have it activate. They had expected to wake up elsewhere, or maybe here but with the awful taste of potion in their mouth—

There is a clatter and their eyes snap open, they watch the Shadow Point drop out of Duncan’s grip as he hits his hands and knees. On the ground under him is the faint outline of a hand drawn placement.

In the quiet, they can hear the soft dripping of liquid onto stone.

The wizard pushes forward, rolls up onto their own knees with a groan as it sends pain sparking throughout every moving muscle. They reach out a hand, they reach out and Duncan flinches back but they keep going, tilt his face up enough that they can see and—

—and there is starlight running down his cheeks.

“It’s freezing,” he sounds like he’s choking.

The wizard knows the feeling.

Remembers the Eclipse Tower.

But they can’t siphon this out of him, can’t help contain it, they are already running on empty and—

“If I may,” The wizard can’t help the jolt that goes through them at the sound of Malistaire Drake’s voice. At the sight of him, shimmering blue like they had seen at age fourteen atop the Great Spyre. The other three Death students aren’t far off, Penny is hugging Marla and Malorn is nearby looking like he maybe tried to stop…whatever Duncan was attempting. And nearest of all are Malistaire and Sylvia. Glowing and no longer tinged by Shadow or rage. “I can return the excess Shadow harmlessly to the void between worlds.”

The wizard can only stare.

They don’t know what to say.

What do you say to the man you killed?

Killed because you were told you had to.

Because you had no other choice.

To the man who had to die because he had not been allowed to grieve.

“Professor Drake?” They are saved the trouble by Duncan pushing unsteadily to his feet. Eyes wide and still running inky darkness across his face. “I—”

The wizard wonders what it’s like for all of them, not just Duncan—though they do wonder about him especially, about his searching for Malistaire after the school’s demise, about his disbelief when they had first told him all the trouble brewing in Wizard City had been Malistaire’s doing—to be faced with the person they lost so abruptly, the one who went from teacher and mentor to a villain they never saw.

To become another group disallowed to process, to grieve.

“Surrender the Shadow to me, as I have surrendered my rage.” Every word makes the wizard’s head spin as they watch Duncan take the hand of his former professor. Was this what he was like? Before? Softer than his brother, gentler.

It’s hard to reconcile.

But they can face those thoughts later.

They watch the streaks of Shadow dry against Duncan’s cheeks. His hand passes through Malistaire’s, no longer solid enough to touch.

And Malistaire looks to them, eyes clear and sharp in a way they have not seen outside of their brief journey to the past. “I release you from the binding of Kan Davasi, though you may not have finished our duel, I surrender my fear and my rage at the things I believed wrongfully taken from me.” There is a power to the words, like a cord snapping inside their head. “I do this, for my love. For my brother. For the memory I leave to my students.” There is a pause, a tightening of hand on staff. “And even for you, Wizard. After everything, even for you.”

Even for you.

It swims through their head.

Swirls like the stars.

What are they meant to do with this?

Why had they come here?

A weight does feel as though it is lifting, somewhere, somehow.

They can’t speak.

Malistaire keeps going, clasping one hand with Sylvia’s as he looks across the group once more.

“Though the scar of our conflicts may take time to heal. I ask you to take what you have learned here and spread a mercy I could not throughout the Spiral. We will not meet again.”

“I’m sorry.” It’s quiet and small and it’s the only thing waiting on their tongue. And he looks at them like Cyrus does when they’re particularly distraught. When he knows there is nothing to be done.

“As am I.”

Read the whole series here <3

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

random evening thoughts about zheng and his mother

one of zheng's meatiest character connections in the series is with his mom, imo. kingdom really did something special with those two because while bi ki's treatment of her son is inexcusable, it's also (much to my initial surprise) made clear that she's meant to be a character we have sympathy for. zheng is traumatized by her treatment of him and knows that they will never have a good relationship, and he also knows that she will never love him. and while he has every right to resent his mother for everything she's done to him, he understands how much she suffered because of his birth - which she never wanted - and has empathy for her. like it must be a double whammy for zheng, because bi ki loves the children she had with lao ai. she shows that she would be willing to give her life for them if she needed to. this is undeniable proof, right before zheng's eyes, that bi ki IS capable of loving her children - and yet she can't love him, yet she only has hatred for him. but, crucially, zheng understands that his mother had agency in the birth of her children with lao ai, while she had no such agency in giving birth to him. that's why, as hard as it must be to accept that his own mother will never love him, he doesn't begrudge her for it.

and interestingly, bi ki doesn't try to excuse herself either. she makes her hatred of zheng clear and she makes it obvious that she blames him - or rather his birth - for her shitty situation in the state of zhao, but she never acts like she has the moral high ground over him, or that he actively chose to ruin her life and therefore deserves her loathing and abuse. she's never apologetic to zheng and she never regrets that she treated him so horribly, but she doesn't act self-righteous about it either. and i think their ending is nice closure for both of them. there's no way that they can ever make up or truly be parent and child with each other, but they've at least accepted and tied off the loose ends between them.

not to mention, i actually really love how hara wrote bi ki. like in some ways it still falls into very typical "man writing a promiscuous female character" tropes (for example, all the fanservice she's used for), but the narrative still treats her as someone who's ultimately meant to be pitied. it's a far more complex depiction of a female character who is genuinely a terrible, abusive mother to her son, and who turns to sex to distract herself from her trauma, than i thought i would get from a male author. imo, bi ki is not slut-shamed and punished for her promiscuity in the way i would have expected from a seinen manga. unfortunately, though, the fandom is still misogynistic as hell towards her, vastly more so than the actual story is.

regardless, i absolutely adore how, in the end, even though she initiated a coup and tried to kill him, zheng still treats his mother with compassion and respect. and this isn't some sanctimonious "i will be better to you than you were to me because i'm a better person than you" schtick. zheng does not think that, because he knows that his mother suffered in a unique way that he, for all his own (also unique) suffering, did not. and he truly understands that his birth, which bi ki didn't even want, was ultimately what sentenced her to a life of misery and ostracization and years of trauma and hardship. his desire to ease his mother's pain, even though he knows she hates him, is genuine. at the same time it's not a shallow, hamfisted "you should forgive your abusive parents bc they're human too!1!!1" message, either. i do think that the story indicates that zheng sincerely forgives his mother, but the focus is not and has never been on him giving her "forgiveness" for her abuse of him. and nor is this forgiveness lauded by the narrative as some grand indication of his kindness and generosity and how much of a Good Person he is - because it would have been just as valid and understandable of him to not forgive her. he would have still been a good person if he didn't forgive her. zheng's forgiveness itself is neutral in the story; a choice that he made and had the right to make, but if he had chosen differently, he rightfully wouldn't have been condemned for it, either. rather, instead of forgiveness, the narrative focus is on the two of them finding closure from each other and the part that they played in each other's lives, and acknowledging that yes, bi ki is an abusive mother, but that doesn't negate the fact that she's suffered. and while they will never be close, zheng knows what his mother has been through, and he actively chooses, at every turn, to have compassion for her.

all that to say, their final scene together, when zheng asks her to take care of herself, to not let herself waste away - wow. i have feelings. let me go stew in my feelings.

[fanficapologist]

Well, this certainly was an emotional rollercoaster hahahahaha Half the time i was reading it, I was switching between frustration, sadness, and confusion. Let’s unpack~

I think it’s impossible to not feel betrayed like Maera does because it feels as if their entire relationship was built on a lie. At least, that’s what I feel. Plus I also feel pressed because the audacity of him to ask Lord Warren to leave her alone and yet he’d lain with Alys, I mean, I get the setting and how men’s indiscretions are always turned a blind eye to, but it still irks me.

But at the same time, I can’t help but feel a sort of begrudging admiration because his actions show the lengths he was willing to go to, just to secure Maera. And the line “I would have set this world ablaze if it meant I could have you” certainly rings true. I mean, our boy did put his money where his mouth is. Still, his methods are questionable, considering his seed took root and now Alys is also pregnant- per Helaena’s prophecy. It’s not something you can just “forget about” because the evidence is there staring you in the face and it’s also undeniable and while I am pissed at that I am not mad at the child because I can’t really fault it now. Which also makes it more frustrating.

On the other hand, I am pleased that Maera kept her wits about her and asked Aemond for space, had she immediately forgiven him or jumped into his arms, I think she’d be hot and cold and have random outbursts. I’d also be ready to throw a fit hahaha

Finally, I’d like to talk about Ebrion. The dragon mirrors her emotional turmoil and I am hoping whilst she ices out Aemond, she gets to bond with the dragon and properly claim him. I think it’d be lovely if she had a bit of respite from all the drama happening and just escape from it all, quite literally. Lord knows she certainly deserves it.

Oooh while I’m waiting for the next chapter, I think I’m going to reread the entire thing and see if I missed anything!! Bahahaha

You’ve hit the nail on the head, that’s what I was going for!

The audacity of the men in this universe is just 🤦🏻‍♀️ and while I love that he literally went to the ends of the earth to have her, YOU CANT JUST GO KILLING YOUR GIRLFRIENDS EXTENDED FAMILY THROUGH A WITCH SO YOU CAN MARRY HER, ITS GENERALLY FROWNED UPON

After everything I think I would need space too before I killed him 🤣 I feel so bad for Maera she’s vulnerable, pregnant and everything she thought she had known has just been shattered.

My girl is going to see her dragon 💙

Also as a writer, I also go back and see if I’ve missed anything cos it’s easy to get lost after over 200k of your own words. I tend to write something down in an early chapter then store it in a separate document to come back to later on but you never know 🤣

Thanks again for your support 🖤

[starry-mist]

S4e11 thoughts:

I can appreciate what the episode is trying to do. It's a very obvious homage to James Bond. I just feel like it tries too hard.

We have Bond (Charlie), Bond Girl (Trina), Moneypenny (Sarah), Q (Jesse), M (Joe), and an actual character named M who gets the very obvious line about MI-6 just in case the audience has somehow missed that THIS IS JUST A JAMES BOND STORY DONE HUDSON & REX STYLE.

Of all the places they could have chosen, they went with Hamilton? Seriously? I would have gone with Toronto. I know the whole trick was to have Rex jump through the O in the Hamilton sign, but I can confirm that Toronto has one of those two, with three O options...maybe a triple jump?

However, as I'm writing this, I'm remembering that they actually didn't film all that many scenes in Hamilton itself. The interior shots (both the Hall of Heroes and the fancy restaurant) were both filmed at The Rooms in St. John's. The absence of Toronto's recognizable skyline would have been pretty obvious with those huge windows. Hamilton's scenery isn't all that distinctive, and parts of it could resemble St. John's if you squint (hilly in some areas, and close to a large body of water.)

Charlie and Sarah in fancy dress but in separate places is a crime. I said what I said.

The introduction of Michael worked in this episode, the "she's not just that into you" vibes did not. It was a little too quick to hit that so hard. But given Andrew Bushell likely had limited availability, I'll chalk it up to them needing to move that story along within the time they had him.

Also the very obvious Sarah hiding Michael from the team... *cough* Charlie *cough*...it becomes even more obvious in episode 12, but anyway. Has apparently met her other friends, but she hasn't told her parents about him, and he's yet to meet the coworkers who are basically family...this was when I started to think our lovely Plot Device was toast.

When Joe asks Jesse about the report on the Iris Cross case, I feel the tiniest tease of season continuity, and I'm totally imagining that Jesse and Sarah share a quick glance and headcanoning that they covered for Charlie after that case and just go with it, okay?

Also, Joe. Quit shitting on Jesse. We're supposed to have passed that phase.

Trina. Your flirting skills suck.

(Charlie, so do yours.)

Look, irritating as I found it at the time, I am not going to begrudge Charlie a little fling, nor will I hold it against Sarah to be stepping into the dating world. These two have each been (presumably) single for a while. They deserve a little action. (Obviously I'd have preferred that action to be with each other, but...for now, let them have their fun.)

I expected Michael to be taller, blonder, and with just a hint of scruff. But seriously, track the development of his facial hair over his few appearances. There's a definite Charlie-esque trajectory.

I had always fixated on there being some sort of reason why the camera panned down to Sarah's phone as she puts it in her purse, but I could never figure out why it was important. Tonight I finally realized it's because she was checking for a message from Charlie. Duh.

To this day I can’t watch the scene where Charlie “pumps Rex’s stomach.” Cool that Sherri Davis is there, though, maybe to keep Diesel comfortable?

The contrast between Charlie losing his shit, and Rex basically being like “quit it, dumbass, I saved the day," as he casually trots back in after the bomb goes off amuses me.

And finally, on the subject of the awkward mess that is that ending kiss with Trina...Rex is judging you, Charlie. That whine says it all.

I'm still trying to manifest a "Charlie actually got Trina pregnant, then she turns up dead and he finds out he has a kid and oooh drama" storyline, but I feel like this isn't that kind of show. Might work in a fic someday though.

Anyway, I guess the episodes I like less somehow get the novel-length posts...Objectively, this is actually a pretty good episode, it just doesn't do it for me.

[seyaryminamoto]

These latest chapters have been pure brilliance. Azula stealing Rei was also really funny. Azula should someday invent the Avatar world's version of Child Protective Services, I know its not quite the same thing here, but near enough. I'd fallen behind so reading all the latest chapies in two sittings was a pleasure. I even had to remember I had a legit account here, I almost messaged as an anon again. Well, now for one of my usual random questions. What's your top 5 favorite OCs to write?

X'D glad you've enjoyed the chaos! While Part 3 starts out in such a heavy way, I feel like it hits its stride pretty quickly (probably because I really didn't want to drag out the hopeless misery any longer than necessary...). Rei provided a wonderful change of pace in Azula's story, the impact she's had on Azula is always lots of fun to write, and the development of that bond never fails to make me happy. I went out of my way to make a meme about it, some time ago...

Azula creating a Child Protective Services system sounds like something no one in the world would imagine Azula would do, not even Azula herself... and yet it sounds like a legitimate possibility as things stand x'D

As for your question... favorite OCs? Ooh boy...

Well, I think Rei would be #1 right now. She's just gold without even knowing it. I don't know how she won over my heart as fast as she did, but she just did. That's her secret superpower, I suspect. She's a really good remedy for all the hardships we've been dealing with, and giving Azula another unique bond with a character is always great <3

Xin Long is probably #2, though writing him as of late makes my heart hurt for obvious reasons... but he was always crazy fun to write. Writing his draconic monologues cracked me up every time, he's wonderfully chaotic and straightforward, writing this dork was always gratifying.

Might be sad that he'd be so low, but our #3 is Rui Shi... oh, Rui Shi. Don't we all miss our good man Rui Shi. *wipes tear*

I'll bestow #4 to Kino and I hope he takes the spot with pride, he's really fun to write too. It can be tricky sometimes to choose what to do with him, I really don't want Kino to feel redundant, or too comic relief, but we'll give him more chances to shine in the future for sure. He's great at easing up many heavy atmospheres, gotta love our reckless Fire Nation army deserter for that.

... I'm gonna go on an impulsive one right now and give an answer that might sound really weird right now to close up my top 5: my #5 is Anorak. Yep. That's who. Why? I think it will become clear relatively soon... though not too soon. To be 100% honest, I didn't even think I'd care about this character remotely as much as I've grown to... but a plot twist I devised for him recently has changed things, big time. I have a surprisingly large soft spot in my heart for this guy, crazy as it might be.

As for runner-ups... I feel bad for leaving him out of a top 5, but Renkai probably would have been right after Anorak, at least! The Priestess of the Flames is also an important one to mention because, as much as she's not a character we've seen often... she's basically one of my old OCs from my original stories, repurposed for Gladiator xD so I have a soft spot for her too and always enjoy writing her. I also reeeeally love Mei Xun, she's a very interesting character to work with. Naturally, all of Azula's guards deserve credit here, they're such a loveable group even though I didn't really set out with the intent of making them loveable x'D Seethus is also quite interesting to write, but unfortunately Ozai isn't giving him enough material to work with lately. More things to begrudge him for, I guess (?)

Anyway, hope that's a decent list :D