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nellasbookplanet · 2 months

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Book recs: black science fiction

As february and black history month nears its end, if you're a reader let's not forget to read and appreciate books by black authors the rest of the year as well! If you're a sci-fi fan like me, perhaps this list can help find some good books to sink your teeth into.

Bleak dystopias, high tech space adventures, alien monsters, alternate dimensions, mash-ups of sci-fi and fantasy - this list features a little bit of everything for genre fiction fans!

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

Lagoon by Nnedi Okorafor

Something massive and alien crashes into the ocean off the coast of Nigeria. Three people, a marine biologist, a rapper, and a soldier, find themselves at the center of this presence, attempting to shepherd an alien ambassador as chaos spreads in the city. A strange novel that mixes the supernatural with the alien, shifts between many different POVs, and gives a one of a kind look at a possible first contact.

Nubia: The Awakening (Nubia series) by Omar Epps & Clarence A. Hayes

Young adult. Three teens living in the slums of an enviromentally ravaged New York find that something powerful is awakening within them. They’re all children of refugees of Nubia, a utopian African island nation that sank as the climate worsened, and realize now that their parents have been hiding aspects of their heritage from them. But as they come into their own, someone seeks to use their abilities to his own ends, against their own people.

The Scourge Between Stars by Ness Brown

Novella. After having failed at establishing a new colony, starship Calypso fights to make it back to Earth. Acting captain Jacklyn Albright is already struggling against the threats of interstellar space and impending starvation when the ship throws her a new danger: something is hiding on the ship, picking off her crew one by one in bloody, gruesome ways. A quick, excellent read if you want some good Alien vibes.

Dawn (Xenogenesis trilogy) by Octavia E. Butler*

After a devestating war leaves humanity on the brink of extinction, survivor Lilith finds herself waking up naked and alone in a strange room. She’s been rescued by the Oankali, who have arrived just in time to save the human race. But there’s a price to survival, and it might be humanity itself. Absolutely fucked up I love it I once had to drop the book mid read to stare at the ceiling and exclaim in horror at what was going on. Includes darker examinations of agency and consent, so enter with caution.

Midnight Robber by Nalo Hopkinson*

Utterly unique in world-building, story, and prose, Midnight Robber follows young Tan-Tan and her father, inhabitants of the Carribean-colonized planet of Toussaint. When her father commits a terrible crime, he’s exiled to a parallel version of the same planet, home to strange aliens and other human exiles. Tan-Tan, not wanting to lose her father, follows with him. Trapped on this new planet, he becomes her worst nightmare. Enter this book with caution, as it contains graphic child sexual abuse.

Rosewater (The Wormwood trilogy) by Tade Thompson

In Nigeria lies Rosewater, a city bordering on a strange, alien biodome. Its motives are unknown, but it’s having an undeniable effect on the surrounding life. Kaaro, former criminal and current psychic agent for the government, is one of the people changed by it. When other psychics like him begin getting killed, Kaaro must take it upon himself to find out the truth about the biodome and its intentions.

Do You Dream of Terra-Two? by Temi Oh

Young adult. A century ago, an astronomer discovered a possibly Earth-like planet. Now, a team of veteran astronauts and carefully chosen teenagers are preparing to embark on a twenty-three year trip to get there. But space is dangerous, and the team has no one to rely on but each other if - or when - something goes wrong. An introspective slowburn of a story, this focuses more on character work than action.

The Best of All Possible Worlds by Karen Lord

After the planet Sadira is left uninhabitable, its few survivors are forced to move to a new world. On Cygnus Beta, they work to rebuild their society alongside their distant relatives of the planet, while trying to preserve what remains of their culture. Focused less on hard science or action, The Best of All Possible Worlds is more about culture, romance and the ethics and practicalities of telepathy.

Mirage (Mirage duology) by Somaiya Daud

Young adult. Eighteen-year-old Amani lives on an isolated moon under the oppressive occupation of the Valthek empire. When Amani is abducted, she finds herself someplace wholly unexpected: the royal palace. As it turns out, she's nearly identical to the half-Valthek, and widely hated, princess Maram, who is in need of a body double. If Amani ever wants to make it back home or see her people freed from oppression, she will have to play her role as princess perfectly. While sci-fi, this one more has the vibe of a fantasy.

An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon

Life on the lower decks of the generation ship HSS Matilda is hard for Aster, an outcast even among outcasts, trying to survive in a system not dissimilar to the old antebellum South. The ship’s leaders have imposed harsh restrictions on their darker skinned people, using them as an oppressed work force as they travel toward their supposed Promised Land. But as Aster finds a link between the death of the ship’s sovereign and the suicide of her own mother, she realizes there may be a way off the ship.

Where It Rains in Color by Denise Crittendon

The planet Swazembi is a utopia of color and beauty, the most beautiful of all its citizens being the Rare Indigo. Lileala was just named Rare Indigo, but her strict yet pampered life gets upended when her beautiful skin is struck by a mysterious sickness, leaving it covered in scars and scabs. Meanwhile, voices start to whisper in Lileala's mind, bringing to the surface a past long forgotten involving her entire society.

Eacaping Exodus (Escaping Exodus duology) by Nicky Drayden

Seske is the heir to the leader of a clan living inside a gigantic, spacefaring beast, of which they frequently need to catch a new one to reside in as their presence slowly kills the beast from the inside. While I found the ending rushed with regards to plot and character, the worldbuilding is very fresh and the overall plot of survival and class struggle an interesting one. It’s also sapphic!

Chain-Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah*

In a near future America, inmates on death row or with life sentences in private prisons can choose to participate in death matches for entertainment. If they survive long enough - a rare case indeed - they regain their freedom. Among these prisoners are Loretta Thurwar and Hamara "Hurricane Staxxx" Stacker, partners behind the scenes and close to the deadline of a possible release - if only they can survive for long enough. As the game continues to be stacked against them and protests mount outside, two women fight for love, freedom, and their own humanity. Chain-Gang All-Stars is bleak and unflinching as well as genuinely hopeful in its portrayal of a dark but all to real possible future.

Parable of the Sower (Earthseed duology) by Octavia E. Butler*

In a bleak future, Lauren Olamina lives with her family in a gated community, one of few still safe places in a time of chaos. When her community falls, Lauren is forced on the run. As she makes her way toward possible safety, she picks up a following of other refugees, and sows the seeds of a new ideology which may one day be the saviour of mankind. Very bleak and scarily realistic, Parable of the Sower will make you both fear for mankind and regain your hope for humanity.

Binti (Binti trilogy) by Nnedi Okorafor

Young adult novella. Binti is the first of the Himba people to be accepted into the prestigious Oomza University, the finest place of higher learning in all the galaxy. But as she embarks on her interstellar journey, the unthinkable happens: her ship is attacked by the terrifying Meduse, an alien race at war with Oomza University.

War Girls (War Girls duology) by Tochi Onyebuchi

In an enviromentally fraught future, the Nigerian civil war has flared back up, utilizing cybernetics and mechs to enhance its soldiers. Two sisters, by bond if not by blood, are separated and end up on differing sides of the struggle. Brutal and dark, with themes of dehumanization of soldiers through cybernetics that turn them into weapons, and the effect and trauma this has on them.

The Space Between Worlds (The Space Between Worlds duology) by Micaiah Johnson

Multiverse travel is finally possible, but there’s a catch: No one can visit a world where their counterpart is still alive. Enter Cara, whose parallel selves happen to be exceptionally good at dying. As such she has a very special job in traveling to these worlds, hoping to keep her position long enough to gain citizenship in the walled-off Wiley City, away from the wastes where she grew up. But her job is dangerous, especially when she gets on the tracks of a secret that threatens the entire multiverse. Really cool worldbuilding and characters, also featuring a sapphic lead!

The Fifth Season (The Broken Eart trilogy) by N.K. Jemisin*

In a world regularly torn apart by natural disasters, a big one finally strikes and society as we know it falls, leaving people floundering to survive in a post apocalyptic world, its secrets and past to be slowly revealed. We get to follow a mother as she races through this world to find and save her missing daughter. While mostly fantasy in genre, this series does have some sci-fi flavor, and is genuinely some of the best books I've ever read, please read them.

The Women Could Fly by Megan Giddings*

In an alternate version of our present, the witch hunt never ended. Women are constantly watched and expected to marry young so their husbands can keep an eye on them. When she was fourteen, Josephine's mother disappeared, leveling suspicions at both mother and daughter of possible witchcraft. Now, nearly a decade and a half later, Jo, in trying to finally accept her missing mother as dead, decides to follow up on a set of seemingly nonsensical instructions left in her will. Features a bisexual lead!

The Prey of Gods by Nicky Drayden

South African-set scifi featuring gods ancient and new, robots finding sentience, dik-diks, and a gay teen with mind control abilities. An ancient goddess seeks to return to her true power no matter how many humans she has to sacrifice to get there. A little bit all over the place but very creative and fresh.

The Summer Prince by Alaya Dawn Johnson*

Young adult. Young artist June Costa lives in Palmares Tres, a beautiful, matriarchal city relying heavily on tradition, one of which is the Summer King. The most recent Summer King is Enki, a bold boy and fellow artist. With him at her side, June seeks to finally find fame and recognition through her art, breaking through the generational divide of her home. But growing close to Enki is dangerous, because he, like all Summer Kings, is destined to die.

The Blood Trials (The Blood Gifted duology) by N.E. Davenport

After Ikenna's grandfather is assasinated, she is convinced that only a member of the Praetorian guard, elite soldiers, could’ve killed him. Seeking to uncover his killer, Ikenna enrolls in a dangerous trial to join the Praetorians which only a quarter of applicants survive. For Ikenna, the stakes are even higher, as she's hiding forbidden blood magic which could cost her her life. Mix of fantasy and sci-fi. While I didn’t super vibe with this one, I suspect fans of action packed romantasy will enjoy it.

Babel-17 by Samuel R. Delany

1960s classic. Rydra Wong is a space captain, linguist and poet who is set on learning to understand Babel-17, a language which is humanity's only clue at the enemy in an interstaller war. But Babel-17 is more than just a language, and studying it may change Rydra forever.

Pet (Pet duology) by Akwaeke Emezi

Young adult novella. Jam lives in a utopian future that has been freed of monsters and the systems which created and upheld them. But then she meets Pet, a dangerous creature claiming to be hunting a monster still among them, prepared to stop at nothing to find them. While I personally found the word-building in Pet lacking, it deftly handles dark subjects of what makes a human a monster.

Bonus AKA I haven’t read these yet but they seem really cool

Lion's Blood by Steven Barnes

Alternate history in which Africans colonized South America while vikings colonized the North. The vikings sell abducted Celts and Franks as slaves to the South, one of which is eleven-years-old Irish boy Aidan O'Dere, who was just bought by a Southern plantation owner.

The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow

Young adult dystopia. Ellie lives in a future where humanity is under the control of the alien Ilori. All art is forbidden, but Ellie keeps a secret library; when one of her books disappears, she fears discovery and execution. M0Rr1S, born in a lab and raised to be emotionless, finds her library, and though he should deliver her for execution, he finds himself obsessed with human music. Together the two embark on a roadtrip which may save humanity.

Womb City by Tlotlo Tsamaase

Lelah lives in future Botswana, but despite money and fame she finds herself in an unhappy marriage, her body controlled via microchip by her husband. After burying the body of an accidental hit and run, Lelah's life gets worse when the ghost of her victim returns to enact bloody vengeance.

Orleans by Sherri L. Smith

Young adult. Fen de la Guerre, living in a quarantined Gulf Coast left devestated by storms and sickness, is forced on the run with a newborn after her tribe is attacked. Hoping to get the child to safety, Fen seeks to get to the other side of the wall, she teams up with a scientist from the outside the quarantine zone.

Everfair by Nisi Shawl

A neo-victorian alternate history, in which a part of Congo was kept safe from colonisation, becoming Everfair, a safe haven for both the people of Congo and former slaves returning from America. Here they must struggle to keep this home safe for them all.

The Splinter in the Sky by Kemi Ashing-Giwa

Space opera. Enitan just wants to live a quiet life in the aftermath of a failed war of conquest, but when her lover is killed and her sister kidnapped, she's forced to leave her plans behind to save her sister.

Honorary mentions AKA these didn't really work for me but maybe you guys will like them: The City We Became (Great Cities duology) by N.K. Jemisin, The Lesson by Cadwell Turnbull, The A.I. Who Loved Me by Alyssa Cole

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makingqueerhistory · 7 months

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Spooky Queer Books

Since spooky season is starting, I thought I would share a list of my favourite queer books that are great for this time of year.

Some of these links are affiliate links.

It Came from the Closet: Queer Reflections on Horror

Joe Vallese

Horror movies hold a complicated space in the hearts of the queer community: historically misogynist, and often homo- and transphobic, the genre has also been inadvertently feminist and open to subversive readings. Common tropes--such as the circumspect and resilient "final girl," body possession, costumed villains, secret identities, and things that lurk in the closet--spark moments of eerie familiarity and affective connection. Still, viewers often remain tasked with reading themselves into beloved films, seeking out characters and set pieces that speak to, mirror, and parallel the unique ways queerness encounters the world.It Came from the Closet features twenty-five essays by writers speaking to this relationship, through connections both empowering and oppressive. From Carmen Maria Machado on Jennifer's Body, Jude Ellison S. Doyle on In My Skin, Addie Tsai on Dead Ringers, and many more, these conversations convey the rich reciprocity between queerness and horror.

Into the Drowning Deep

Mira Grant

The ocean is home to many myths, But some are deadly... Seven years ago the Atargatis set off on a voyage to the Mariana Trench to film a mockumentary bringing to life ancient sea creatures of legend. It was lost at sea with all hands. Some have called it a hoax; others have called it a tragedy. Now a new crew has been assembled. But this time they're not out to entertain. Some seek to validate their life's work. Some seek the greatest hunt of all. Some seek the truth. But for the ambitious young scientist Victoria Stewart this is a voyage to uncover the fate of the sister she lost. Whatever the truth may be, it will only be found below the waves. But the secrets of the deep come with a price.

The Devouring Gray

C. L. Herman

After her sister's death, seventeen-year-old Violet Saunders finds herself dragged to Four Paths, New York. Violet may be a newcomer, but she soon learns her mother isn't: They belong to one of the revered founding families of the town, where stone bells hang above every doorway and danger lurks in the depths of the woods. Justin Hawthorne's bloodline has protected Four Paths for generations from the Gray--a lifeless dimension that imprisons a brutal monster. After Justin fails to inherit his family's powers, his mother is determined to keep this humiliation a secret. But Justin can't let go of the future he was promised and the town he swore to protect. Ever since Harper Carlisle lost her hand to an accident that left her stranded in the Gray for days, she has vowed revenge on the person who abandoned her: Justin Hawthorne. There are ripples of dissent in Four Paths, and Harper seizes an opportunity to take down the Hawthornes and change her destiny--to what extent, even she doesn't yet know. The Gray is growing stronger every day, and its victims are piling up. When Violet accidentally unleashes the monster, all three must band together with the other Founders to unearth the dark truths behind their families' abilities...before the Gray devours them all.

Tell Me I'm Worthless

Alison Rumfitt

Three years ago, Alice spent one night in an abandoned house with her friends, Ila and Hannah. Since then, Alice's life has spiraled. She lives a haunted existence, selling videos of herself for money, going to parties she hates, drinking herself to sleep. Memories of that night torment Alice, but when Ila asks her to return to the House, to go past the KEEP OUT sign and over the sick earth where teenagers dare each other to venture, Alice knows she must go. Together, Alice and Ila must face the horrors that happened there, must pull themselves apart from the inside out, put their differences aside, and try to rescue Hannah, whom the House has chosen to make its own. Cutting, disruptive, and darkly funny, Tell Me I'm Worthless is a vital work of trans fiction that examines the devastating effects of trauma and how fascism makes us destroy ourselves and each other.

#queer #lgbt #transgender #queer books #lgbt books #book recommendations #queer history

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a-very-tired-jew · 29 days

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You're not as informed as you think, and age does play a factor.

This is going to ruffle some feathers, but it needs to be said. You're not as informed on the I/P Conflict and the history of the region as you think, and age plays a major factor. Hell, you're not as informed on a lot of topics as you think. I want you to think about what you were doing 5 years ago. Were you still running around on the playground? Were you making dioramas for a science class? Were you in high school worried about being a first year? Were you just starting to pick out colleges or deciding to even go? Did you ever call a teacher by their first name? Now, there is a line that we hear thrown about that people don't fully mature till they're 25. While this is bupkis and misrepresents the research, it is true that the brain does not stop developing till sometime in the mid to late 20s. In fact, the brains of undergraduates age 18-22 and their respective thought patterns more closely resemble high schoolers than they do mid 20s and above. So what does this mean in the course of the I/P conflict? For one thing, this is your first incident. Your first I/P war. Those of us in our 30s and above have seen a good number of them at this point. I even remember when the use of child suicide bombers became a standard method for Hamas and other terrorist groups during the Second Intifada. As such, many of us are used to the manipulation that we see in this particular region. We're used to seeing antisemitism be dismissed and well intentioned people be manipulated. Many of us are just tired because you're going through the same shit we did at your age and we look back and go "oh, we were severely misinformed". Because this is your first, you're super passionate about it, but that passion can be manipulated. Second, you're not as smart or well informed as you think you are. This has to do with the age and maturation thing mentioned above. While 25 is an arbitrary number, there are some milestones that happen by then. By 25 you have had enough life experience to really start piecing together your education, your life experiences, your world experiences, and your respective beliefs into a coherent way of approaching topics. Hopefully by that age you're less likely to have the emotional outburst in response to a subject (think about the stereotypical slamming the door teenager behavior, many of us did that and we cringe thinking about it) and more likely to approach something in a levelheaded and informed manner. Unfortunately there is some research that shows evidence that Gen Z and Millenials are susceptible to propaganda and misinformation, with the former exhibiting behavior akin to Boomers. So keep that in mind that none of us are safe for misinformation, but some generations are worse than others. Now, who am I to say this to you? Some of you are quite mad right at the moment. Some of you have strived to be seen as well informed young adults or to be taken seriously, and in some cases you are. However...

I'm in my 30s and I have been teaching at the college level for a decade and some change now. By no means am I an expert, but I have enough experience to say something. The ages I teach are 18+, meaning I've had students that are typical fresh high school grads and students that are in their 50s. Myself and my colleagues have heard repeatedly from students the "I'm an adult, I know what I'm doing" line to only watch that 18-22 y.o. student fail miserably or come crying to us later. I have personally watched students go through the stages of grief as they realized in my classes that their pet science activism is not what they thought, but they've wrapped so much of their identity around it. You're still learning, and thinking you know more just because you read something online is an issue. You're also still growing and developing as a person. Recognize that you can be manipulated. Recognize that you can be wrong. Recognize your own inherent biases. Then do better.

#jumblr #leftist #activism #leftist antisemitism #israel #palestine

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wheresarizona · 9 months

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Bluebonnet

summary: Is Joel Miller your friend? No. You’re not even sure if he actually likes you or just puts up with you because of his kid. Then he kicks some guy's ass in a bar for getting handsy with you, and you’re starting to think maybe he might like you a little…

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Grumpy Joel Miller, Protective Joel Miller, Soft Joel Miller, age gap (unspecified but reader was born before the outbreak), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, oral sex (f + m receiving), 69 position, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, spit mention, slight breeding kink, Joel has a big dick, Joel being kinda a dick, a random guy harassing you then getting beat up by Joel, canon typical violence, icing Joel’s knuckles, feelings confessions, Ellie being Ellie and the star of the show, AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and their relationship is still good)

pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader

word count: 5.5k+

a/n: Literally, a scene in this woke me up from dead sleep at five in the goddamn morning, and I spent thirty minutes plotting the whole one shot while barely awake. This fic was very spur of the moment that I wrote in less than two days, so it’s unbeta’d. All mistakes are my own. Please be horny about Joel protecting you with me.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Masterlist

Is Joel Miller your friend?

No.

Are you on friendly terms?

You thought so.

Joel isn’t the most social of fellas—he’s basically a feral cat that wants to be left alone.

If you aren’t friends with him, then how did you become the regular occupant of the seat across from his in the Jackson mess hall every breakfast and dinner?

The answer is simple: Ellie.

It all started months ago when you first got to Jackson and met the teen after being assigned to a job rotation with her. She was so excited about finding out you lived in Texas for many years before the world went to hell she invited you to eat dinner with her so you could meet someone, and that’s how you were introduced to Austin-native Joel Miller.

He’s a bit older than you, never smiles, and isn’t much of a talker but still polite enough to answer a question if you ask it, even if it’s more of a grumble at the start of the day. With Ellie, though, it was different. He talked to her, and his voice was like coming home after a long day and settling in on the couch—that familiar Texan accent making you feel all warm and comfy, his words wrapping around you like a tight blanket and taking you back to a time when things were good and safe.

The morning after the first dinner, Ellie had called you over to sit with them for breakfast, and again that evening, little bits of conversation happening between bites as you got a grasp on what the relationship was between this young girl and man—it was clearly father-daughter in nature even if she didn’t call him ‘dad,’ and you savored every word she wheedled out of him.

It got to the point where the teenager didn’t have to beckon you over, and you just knew to set your food down in the seat in front of Joel to eat with them, always smiling at Ellie giving him so much shit, chatting with them or more the young girl, with Joel occasionally offering clipped anecdotes, and you trying not to acknowledge his handsomeness—you weren’t sure if he even liked you or if he was just putting up with you for the sake of his kid.

He does have a lovely voice and is very attractive with those expressive chocolate-colored eyes that sometimes soften when he looks at his daughter; you could imagine his grey hair would be soft to the touch, and it’s obvious those full lips of his are kissable. Honestly, it’s surprising he’s not seeing anyone that you know of or Ellie is aware of, with how damn pretty he is.

His broad shoulders and how his flannels stretch over his chest.

His neck.

God, he’s sure nice to look at.

And Ellie is a great kid who trusted you, coming to you anytime she needed advice or wanted to talk about something, and you were happy to be there for her.

The breakfast and dinner routine had been going on for so long that even though Joel didn’t talk at length to you, you’d managed to learn quite a bit about him from questions he’d answer or conversations he had with his kid or brother in front of you. He definitely knew a lot about you, too.

Now, back to why you’re not sure if he likes you.

That morning when you went to breakfast, you were running on autopilot—piled your plate with food, grabbed your cup of shitty coffee that made you want to cry with how much you missed Starbucks, and set it all down in your usual spot, where you started to eat.

When your brain finally began working, that’s when you realized it was abnormally quiet at your table, and you looked up to realize Ellie wasn’t there—it was just Joel. He must have seen some kind of look on your face since he grumbled out she was with a friend. Then when you asked if he wanted you to sit somewhere else, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he told you no before going back to eating in silence.

That put a point in the maybe he wasn’t just putting up with you for the sake of his daughter column and made you smile a little the rest of the meal.

She wasn’t at dinner either.

This had you standing near your seat, chewing on your lip, debating on sitting elsewhere until Joel sighed loudly, setting down his fork to tell you in a tone that brokered no room for argument to sit, so you did.

After a few bites, you almost choked to death when he asked how your day was.

There was actual back and forth between just the two of you, and you were in heaven at how much he was speaking, another point going toward he might like you.

Those interactions had you feeling really hopeful, and you were excited for breakfast the next day, wondering if he’d try to talk to you more.

It’s been over half a year since you arrived in town, and you have managed to make some friends, who you knew for sure were your friends, and also closer to your age. When a couple of them asked if you wanted to get a drink that night and play some pool, you happily agreed.

The place is practically empty when you arrive.

Standing at the bar, chatting with your friend Mathias as you wait for the bartender to make your drinks, you can feel someone staring at you. Doing a quick glance of the room has your stomach dropping and is the reason you’re pretty fucking sure Joel doesn’t care for you; he’s sitting across the room at a table in the corner, glaring at you—not just glaring, if looks could kill you’d be deader than dead he looks so pissed off, and you’re about to go find out what his problem is when two things happen:

Mathias excuses himself to the restroom, and some man you’ve never seen, let alone spoken to, gets your attention on your other side.

“Hey.” The interloper squeezes your arm, which makes your head turn toward him, shaking him off.

“Don’t touch me,” you reply.

There’s nothing special about the guy—he’s probably younger than you, has floppy blonde hair, and a clean-shaven face, but something in his eyes made you feel uneasy.

“My apologies,” he says, putting up his hands placatingly. “This is my first night here, and I’m just trying to make a new friend. Have a drink with me.”

“Welcome to Jackson, and no, thank you, I’m here with friends.”

“I’m sure they won’t mind if you have one drink with me.” His voice goes lower, “We could have some real fun together.” He has the audacity to grab your ass, and you step out of his reach.

“I said don’t fucking touch me.”

The bartender has gone into the back, Mathias is nowhere in sight, and your other friend is in another room where the pool table is with the jukebox playing.

Something flashes in his eyes, and it has your heart pounding.

“Don’t be like that. Just one drink,” he says, coming closer.

You are readying to fight the bastard when all of a sudden, someone is grabbing his collar, and you see a fist connect with his face in a sickening crunch that makes you gasp.

Joel yanks the guy in front of him.

“She said not to fuckin’ touch her,” he grits through his teeth. “And that she didn’t wanna have a drink with you.”

“I’m sorry,” the other man wheezes, blood oozing from his clearly broken nose. “I’ll leave.”

“Yes, you fuckin’ will—after I teach you some fuckin’ manners.”

With that, he punches him again and again and again.

You’re no damsel in distress—you’ve survived the fucking apocalypse for the last twenty years practically alone and could easily fight your way out of dangerous situations. But having someone stand up for you and protect you? It’s really doing it for you, except you’re genuinely worried Joel will murder this man, so you move toward him.

“Stop, Joel!” you shout, pushing on his shoulder, and he does immediately, his eyes meeting yours. “He’ll leave; toss him out. Please, Joel. Don’t kill him.”

His chest rises and falls as he pants, nodding his head once before hauling the groaning man to the door and throwing him out. The bartender chose that moment to come back, as well as your friend.

There was a worried expression on Mathias’ face. “Is everything okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you answer. The drinks are sitting on the bartop, and you gesture toward them. “I’ve got something to do, so take those for me, okay?”

Confusion is etched on his brow. “Okay…?” He strategically picks up the three glasses and heads for the other room with the pool table.

Your attention moves to the man behind the bar. “Hey, can I get some ice in a rag?”

“Sure thing,” he replies, going to the block and using the ice pick.

Joel didn’t return to you. Instead, he went back to his table like the last however many minutes didn’t happen, and it makes you sigh.

His mixed signals have you so confused you’re ready to just get it all out in the open.

The bartender hands you some ice wrapped in a towel, and you walk over to Joel, having to drag the seat across from his around so you’re next to him, seeing his right hand shaking around his glass with bloodied knuckles.

He won’t even look at you.

“Give me your hand,” you order him.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Give me your fucking hand.”

“No.”

“Stop being a stubborn asshole, and let me ice your fucking knuckles.”

“I said I’m fine.”

He won’t give you his hand, so you do the next best thing and press the ice against them while they hold his drink, Joel hissing at the coldness.

His head turns to glare at you.

“Don’t give me that look.” You glare right back. “I’m helping you.”

“I don’t need your help,” he practically spits out.

Taking a deep breath, you ready yourself for what you’re going to say.

“We had a nice dinner,” you tell him.

His eyebrows furrow.

“What?”

“We had a nice dinner with just the two of us where we talked—you didn’t smile, but it was the most you’ve ever said to me, and this morning, you let me eat with you. You’re not a people person, and I wasn’t sure if you liked me all that much, but our meals today made me think you might. Then tonight you were glaring at me—”

“When was I glarin’ at you?” he interrupts.

“Before that creep started getting handsy.”

“Oh, I wasn’t lookin’ at you…” His eyes dart away.

You’re confused.

“There’s like no one here. Who were you looking at?”

He sighs loudly. “Your boyfriend,” he mumbles.

“Huh?”

“Your boyfriend—the guy you’re here with.”

“Oh, Mathias? I’m not his type, and he’s already in a relationship. I don’t have a boyfriend or a girlfriend, or a partner—I’m not seeing anyone. You should know this.”

“Oh.”

“Okay, so you weren’t glaring at me, you were glaring at my non-existent boyfriend, and then you came in hot like some knight in shining armor and beat the shit out of that asshole for doing me wrong. Sooo, you maybe like me?”

He looked at you with a squinted gaze, like the answer was obvious.

“I more than maybe like you,” he replies.

That has your eyes widening.

“Wait, in the romantic or platonic sense?”

“There’s no point in talkin’ about this,” he sighs, looking down at the amber liquid in his cup.

“Um, yes, there is because if I have a shot at breaking off a piece of this Kit Kat bar, I’d like to take it.”

His gaze met yours, and you could see the hope swirling in the dark pools.

“In the, uh, romantic or platonic sense?”

Smiling, you answer, “Romantic—I’ve basically been crushing on you since I met you. We’ve known each other for months, almost a year. You’re such a good father to Ellie, a hard worker around town, and you let some random person sit with you during your meals—”

It takes your breath away when he smiles softly and talks when you pause, “You’re not some random person, and I would’ve been stupid to turn away such a beautiful woman.”

“Oh, god, you’re hot and charming.” He chuckles, and your heart picks up in pace. “How are you making me like you more?”

“I don’t know, Blue.”

“Blue?”

“As in Bluebonnet.”

Which was Texas’ state flower and makes you feel so soft at how sweet the nickname is.

“I love it.”

The smile falls from his face.

“You, uh, don’t mind my age?” He scratches at his mustache.

Ellie had made you very aware of how old Joel was.

“No? I think you’re extremely attractive. Does the age difference bother you?”

“No.” He shakes his head.

“What now?” you ask.

“Jesus, it’s been so fuckin’ long,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I guess I’ll court you—take you on a proper date.”

“Second option, that’s more immediate, and we can go with your plan tomorrow.”

He looks at you.

“Yeah?”

“Is Ellie home tonight?”

His eyebrows dip together.

“Yeah?”

Smirking, you say, “Okay, so why don’t we go back to my place, and I properly thank you for what you did tonight.”

You see his throat bob as he swallows, his voice going deeper when he asks, “How do you wanna thank me?”

A smile pulls up on your lips, moving forward to whisper in his good ear, “I was thinking I’d suck your dick.” His breath stutters. “Then have you fuck me however you want.” That makes him groan, and you grin.

His hand moves out from under the ice and up to cradle your face, along with the other, when his body turns, making you look him in the eyes.

“I was stupid for leavin’ you alone ‘cause I assumed you wouldn’t want anythin’ to do with someone as old as me.”

You snort. “Uh, yeah. You went a little hard with the leaving me alone, but I’ll forgive you if you kiss me right now.”

No other words are said. His mouth crushes against yours, swallowing your surprised sound as he kisses you hard. Your fingers end up tangling in his grey waves of hair, your heart hammering in your chest and pulsing at the apex of your thighs. It’s obvious he hasn’t kissed in a while, and you’re in the same boat, both of you figuring things out until there’s a rhythm, and things are heating up with a slip of your tongue into his mouth to slide along his. The need inside you builds and builds until your lungs start to ache for oxygen, and you break apart, his nose nuzzling yours as you both pant with a smile on your lips.

“Let’s go,” he says, and you don’t have to be told twice.

He washed his hands before you left the bar, so it wasn’t obvious he’d just been in a fight.

Having Joel lead you through town is like having a big, scary dog on a leash with how people get out of his way. It’s a little surprising he even knows where you live when you find yourself walking through your front gate.

“How—”

“Ellie,” he answers before you even ask the question, his feet stomping up the two porch steps and you following. “She’s free to hang out with whoever and go wherever. I just ask she tells me where she’ll be.”

“That’s very ‘cool dad’ of you.”

You’re standing at the front door, him out of your way.

“She’s not allowed to leave Jackson without me. If I tell her to stay away from someone, she stays away from them. I expect her to be a model citizen and do the jobs she’s required to do. Unless we talked beforehand, she must be home in time for breakfast and dinner.”

“So, today, you knew it’d just be the two of us?”

“She asked last night to stay at Cat’s house.” That’s Ellie’s best friend. “They’re staying over at our place tonight.”

“Probably won’t even notice you’re missing then,” you say with a smile. The door’s unlocked, and you push it open before turning to grab Joel by the collar, pulling him in for a kiss as he walks you backward into the house with his arms wrapping around your back.

It’s a tangle of tongues, a clash of teeth, one of Joel’s hands moving to massage your breast while your fingers worked open the buttons on his shirt, him shrugging it off by the time you make it to your bedroom door you led him to. Once inside, he strips you first, spending quite a bit of time licking and sucking on your tits when they’re bared and stopping you when you try to work open his pants, learning he’s really fucking strong when he easily tosses you onto the middle of the bed.

Quickly, you’re sitting up on your knees, and you get a good look at the sizable bulge at the front of his jeans; Joel standing there with his hands on his hips, staring at your body with a hungry gaze, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. Scars are littering the golden expanse of skin on his front and arms of varying sizes, a newer one you spot on his lower torso, all of them telling you he’s fought like hell to make it to this point.

Shuffling forward, you’re tired of waiting, your hands going to the button on the front of his pants. Joel’s palm engulfs yours to stop you, his head tilting down to meet your confused eyes.

“You don’t need to suck my dick for what I did,” he says.

“Okay. What if I just want to suck your dick for the hell of it?”

His lips tip up in a crooked smile, and you’re enjoying seeing his different smiles.

“Then have at it, but I wanna lick your pussy until you come on my tongue.”

You suck in a breath, your cunt clenching hard around nothing.

“If you can get me off with your mouth, you’re not gonna be able to get rid of me.”

His eyebrow arches. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. You’ll be stuck with me.”

There’d been enough talking, so you deftly popped open the button and pulled down the zipper, grabbing the waistband to tug his jeans down his thighs. You’re pleasantly surprised he goes commando, and then you get a good look at his hard cock, and it’s glorious.

He’s thick, long, with a nice curve upwards, and you’re wondering if you’ll be able to fit him in your mouth—you’re definitely up for the challenge, licking your lips at the thought. Your fingers don’t even wrap all the way around him when you take him in hand, giving him a few quick strokes.

“Wait,” he says, stopping your movements.

“What?” you ask, looking up at him.

“Hold on,” is all he replies, getting his pants the rest of the way down, kicking them off, and removing his socks. Walking around the side of your queen size bed, you’re turning in place to follow his movements as he gets on the mattress with a groan and the springs squeaking as he moves to the middle, his legs on either side of you, grabbing one of your pillows to put under his head that he lifts to look at you. “Sit on my face.” It’s an order, and he pats his chest to show you he means it.

“I thought I was giving you a blow job…?” You point at his dick resting against his stomach.

“You are,” he replies. “We’re doin’ both. Now, get up here,” he orders again, his face grumpy, patting his chest once more.

“Sheesh,” you say, moving over his leg and up the bed, thankful you showered before you went out. “You’re really bossy when you’re horny.”

When you’re within reach, he replies, “I’ll show you fuckin’ bossy,” and he puts his strength to work again, grunting while hauling you onto him with your back to his head and legs along his sides. His hand lands on the side of your ass in a sharp slap that makes you gasp, feeling the wetness between your legs, coating your inner thighs. “I’m eatin’ this pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he says, positioning you over his face, his hand giving your asscheek another hard spank causing you to clench. “And you’re gonna wrap that gorgeous fuckin’ mouth around my cock.”

You can’t respond because all train of thought leaves your brain when his mouth latches onto your cunt, feeling him groan into your sensitive skin, the sensations making your toes curl, and fire erupt in your center.

“Oh my god, Joel,” you moan. “It’s so good. It’s so fucking good.”

It takes a deep breath for you to focus on your task, spitting on your hand before grasping his hard dick in your palm, the tip red and shiny with his arousal, lowering your face to take him into your mouth. He’s salty on your tongue, your jaw open as wide as it will go as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head, stroking the considerable amount that won’t fit.

His hands have a firm grip on your hips, pulling you farther down on his face, and you’re really worried he’s going to suffocate while he eats you out like a man starving. Pleasure in winding in your belly, tighter and tighter, with how he’s licking at your folds, your eyes rolling back in your head when he sucks your sensitive little clit between his lips.

He’s really going to make you come, and it feels so fucking good you’re having a hard time sucking his cock, so lost in what he’s doing to you—saliva is dripping out of your mouth and down his shaft, making your hand slide easily along him while you have half a mind to suckle on the head of him.

You hit your breaking point suddenly, the coil inside you snapping, your body tensing up as you come with a loud moan, euphoria spreading out from your core. Joel groans into your cunt, his tongue pushing inside your sopping entrance to taste your release straight from the source, his hands grabbing handfuls of your ass and squeezing hard.

He must get his fill because he moves you off his face, hearing him take a deep breath.

“My good fuckin’ girl,” he says through panted breaths, rubbing your hips, his words causing a shiver to move down your spine. “Am I stuck with you?”

You’d given up on blowing him, your forehead resting against his thigh.

“Yeah,” you slur, sounding drunk. “How are you single?” It’s been a while since you’ve had that good of an orgasm.

He sighs and taps your hip. “Turn around, baby.”

Doing your best to turn, Joel helps you, getting you to straddle over his lower torso, your hands finding their place on his warm, flushed chest, seeing the grey hairs of his beard shining with your arousal and his lips frowning.

“Like you said earlier,” he says. “I’m not a people person.”

Your eyebrows knit together.

“I’m people…”

“No, you’re not. You’re my Texas Bluebonnet—my Blue.” His large palm comes up to stroke your cheek.

You’re wondering something. “Why did you talk to me at dinner?”

A sheepish look comes over his face. “‘Cause we were alone, and I didn’t have to worry about Ellie teasin’ me in front of you about my crush.”

“She knows?”

He grimaces. “Suspects. Since there’s only three people on this godforsaken planet I like, and you’re one of them.”

“And I’m the only one who’s not family—oh, that’s obvious.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, how do you want me?”

He looks confused. “Huh?”

“I said you can fuck me however you want,” you answer, sliding your hands up his pecs. “How do you want me, babe?”

When he smiles this time, you get a glimpse of his teeth. “Ride me.”

His answer has you grinning. “Cowgirl, like a true Texan.”

“I just love your tits,” he says, his big hands palming them.

“Good to know,” you reply with a wink.

Sitting up on your knees, you scoot back to get over his hips. His dick is still wet with your spit when you grab it and slide it through your folds before positioning him at your entrance.

There are nerves swirling in your belly, your eyes landing on his dark ones as you slowly start to drop down, seeing his mouth fall open with a gasp, his hands grabbing onto your thighs. You knew there’d be a stretch, but he’s bordering on uncomfortable in how your walls have to expand for his size, feeling the slight burn. When you finally bottom out, you’re beyond full—you’ve never felt fuller, and it takes your breath away.

“Jesus Christ,” his words are said through his teeth, his eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t move.”

His hard cock is throbbing inside you.

“Been a while?”

“Yeah.”

“Same. You’re so fucking big I’m gonna be sore after this.”

His dick jerks as he groans, “Don’t say that.”

“Damn, you’re that close?” you ask, soothingly stroking your hands over his chest.

You watch as his eyes blink open, the grumpy expression you’re used to appearing on his face.

“Don’t make fun of me.” He slaps your ass. “I haven’t fucked in a long time, and now I’m inside the perfect pussy—you’d be strugglin’ too if you were me.”

“I’m not making fun of you, Joel.” You lean forward to cup his cheek, feeling prickling stubble under your palm. “I think it’s hot. Like, you have no idea how flattered I’d be if I made you come right away—talk about an ego boost.”

He doesn’t look convinced, his eyes narrowing.

“Are you just sayin’ that to make me feel better?”

“Nope.” To prove your point, you sit up, bracing yourself with your hands on his chest as you start circling your hips.

His mouth goes slack, his eyes widening, a choked noise pulling from his throat that makes you smirk. “Fuck,” he pants. There’s sweat beading on his forehead, his cheeks a rosy pink. “You fit me like a fuckin’ glove.”

You’re slowly building into an up-and-down motion, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock rubbing against spots you didn’t know existed, sparks of pleasure igniting in your center as you throw your head back.

He must get a hold of himself because both of his hands come down on each of your asscheeks in loud, resounding smacks before he’s gripping them to help you move.

Looking down at him, there’s concentration on his brow.

“Your tight little pussy is takin’ me so fuckin’ well,” he says, hearing the wet sounds where you’re joined. “You love how I stretch you open?”

“Yes,” you moan.

You’re moving a little faster, moving up, and falling down a little harder, making the fire in your belly get hotter and hotter.

“Lean down.”

Doing as he says, your hands are on either side of his head while he continues helping you ride him. He lifts his face to pull a pebbled nipple between his lips, and the pleasure shoots straight to your pussy, making you gasp and more arousal spill around his length.

He laves at one bud, then the other as you work yourself up, the new angle allowing the coarse hairs at the base of his cock to rub deliciously against your clit, and you know you’re close.

Joel is groaning loudly, clearly in heaven, with his dick inside you and his mouth on your tits.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” he says around your hard nipple. “You gonna let me feel you squeeze my dick? Let me fuckin’ have it. Be a good fuckin’ girl and give it to me.”

It’s all too much, everything coming to a head as you fall over the edge with a cry of his name, clenching so hard around him, you’ve stopped moving with his cock buried to the root, pleasure radiating through your body.

Joel’s breathing hard under you, and you don’t sound any better while you come down from your high.

His arms suddenly hug you close to him, and you squeak in surprise when he flips you onto your back with his dick still inside you and his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs. Lips find yours in a searing kiss, moaning as you taste yourself, welcoming his tongue when it slips into your mouth to tangle with your own.

He starts moving to chase his high, his thrusts hard and fast.

The bedsprings are squeaking loudly, the headboard banging into the wall, hearing the wet suck of your pussy taking his cock and your muffled moans paired with his muffled groans. There’s no mistaking what’s happening in this bedroom, and you just hope your neighbors don’t complain in the morning.

Your fingers have threaded into his hair, your bodies sweaty, his lips leave yours, opening your eyes to see his face screwed up like he’s in pain.

“Where do you want it?” he grits out.

If he’s asking, then he knows the risk.

“Inside.”

He opens his eyes wide. “Are you sure?”

It is a rare thing to want these days.

“Yes.”

His pace speeds up, grunting as he pistons into you, resting his head in the crook of your neck, feeling his hot breaths.

“You can fuckin’ have it,” he grunts. “Fuck you full of me—milk me fuckin’ dry. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

You know he’s close when his thrusts get jerky, then he’s pushing in hard one last time with a guttural groan, feeling the hot spurts of his come filling you, his hips continuing to roll until they finally come to a complete stop. It’s obvious he’s wrung out with how he practically collapses on top of you, but you welcome the weight, pushing your fingers into his hair and scratching at his scalp, which receives appreciative hums.

Minutes pass that neither of you speaks.

“‘M sorry,” the words are murmured into your neck.

“For what?” you softly ask.

“Makin’ you think I didn’t like you.”

“It’s kinda my fault, too. I mean, I am aware you don’t like people but you’ve eaten two meals a day with me for almost a year, so obviously you must like me somewhat.”

His head comes up with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips frowning.

“I like you more than somewhat.”

You smile. His hair is a mess, and you go about combing your fingers through it as you say, “Yes, I know that now. You like me.”

“I do.”

“And I like you.”

“Good.”

“I said you’re stuck with me, so can this be more than a one-time thing?”

His eyes squint in that same way where he thinks something is obvious.

“What?" he says. "I’m not lettin’ you go anywhere. You’re mine—my Blue.”

“Good. ‘Cause you’re mine, too.”

He kisses you passionately, and you lose yourself in it for a second until a thought has your eyes flying open and you pushing his face away.

“What?” he asks, bewildered.

“How are you going to tell Ellie?”

“Shit. Uh, we can sit her down tomorrow night—”

“No, this is a conversation you need to have with her alone.”

He winces. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow night after dinner...”

Is Joel Miller your boyfriend?

He absolutely hates you giving him that label, grumbling he prefers partner, but yes, he is your boyfriend.

Did Joel sneak out of your house in the early morning hours to his own so Ellie wouldn’t know he was gone all night?

Also, yes.

It’s the morning after, and you’re trying to act normal, ignoring how nervous you feel and the soreness between your legs as you sit down in your usual spot in front of Joel with your plate of breakfast. He’s changed into clean clothes and looks like he hasn’t slept, sipping on one of the two cups of shitty coffee in front of him, Ellie next to him already digging into some oatmeal with her spoon, which makes you realize—

“Ah, fuck,” you say, both of them looking at you. “I forgot to grab a fork.”

“I’ll get you one, baby,” Joel says as he sets his coffee down and starts to get up.

The three of you go completely still. Your eyes are wide, Joel’s close in regret, his cheeks turning pink, and Ellie looks like she’s going to explode with excitement until—

“You guys FUCKED!” she shouts.

People around the mess hall turn to stare.

“Ellie,” Joel hisses, his head whipping toward her.

“Sorry, sorry,” she says in a quieter voice, the rest of the room returning to eating. “I knew it! It’s about fucking time! So when are you getting married?” She’s looking between the two of you. “You know, I’ve always wanted a mom! And a brother! I’ll settle for a sister, though. Is she moving in with us, Joel?” She’s staring at him expectantly with a grin.

Joel’s face is bright red. “I’m gettin’ the fuckin’ fork,” he grumbles as he gets up from his seat.

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clockwayswrites · 4 months

Text

Like Betta Fish Do - Part 29

WC 2500, Masterpost

A Press of the Button:

An Exclusive Interview with Jason Wayne and Danny Nightingale Following the Infamous New Years Eve Choice

By Clark Kent

“I’m going to throw up.”

I’m sure that I wasn’t supposed to overhear that; it’s not exactly an auspicious start to an interview. Here inside of Wayne Manor’s stately halls the noise of the crowd of press outside of the gate has fallen away and the words from the other side of the door are clear. The voice isn’t one that I recognize, so I place it as the young man at the center of the event: Daniel Nightingale.

“Danny, please, I’ve never liked Daniel,” he’ll introduce himself to me once I’m inside the sitting room. Jason Todd is at his boyfriend’s side, looming like an avenging angel. Or, since we’re in Gotham, a very large bat.

When I was assigned the interview, I hadn’t been sure where it would be held. As readers may know, Jason Todd hasn’t lived at the Manor since his miraculous return from the dead. There were, as he said, too many memories in the Manor for him to return. At the time he had still been struggling to overcome the unfortunate amnesia that he had suffered during his brutal abduction as a teenager.

Whatever trauma is still lingering, it’s clear that both young men are taking comfort being in the manor. The proverbial wagons have been circled inside of the family home. Even cleaned up the sitting room shows signs of a rotation cast of family keeping the pair company: a plethora of blankets, stacked board games, feel-good food, and, of all things, a plush trilobite.

As we take our seats, Danny leans unconsciously into Jason’s space like a flower to the sun. His nerves are clear in the way that his fingers fidget restlessly with the edge of his sleeves. The red sweater is far too large for him and hangs off of one thin shoulder. I have to guess that it’s Jason’s sweater and worn today for comfort. I doubt anyone could blame Danny seeking comfort wherever he can find it.

Less than a week ago Danny was abducted from the Wayne’s New Years Eve party by a Gotham villain known as Two Face. The villain came into being after Harvey Dent, a district attorney in Gotham, was traumatically exposed to a toxic chemical. (More about Two Face can be read in the article ‘A Flip of a Coin’.) Danny had been taken off site while a handful of party goers were strapped to an explosive device.

Presented with the horrifying choice between his boyfriend or his father and youngest brother, Jason had pressed the red button connected to Danny��s trap.

Danny Nightingale had been electrocuted to death.

And survived.

It’s the perfect sort of awful story to capture the attention of the public and press alike, and it’s the reason that I’m at Wayne Manor now.

Hoping to make Danny feel more settled, I start off with some pleasantries before going in with a soft question. How is he doing with all the attention that the event has been getting? It must be overwhelming.

Danny glances towards the front of the house where outside lies the front yard, the protective gate, and the press. “It is. I feel like I’m still getting used to living in a city as big as Gotham, so all of this suddenly… yeah, it’s a lot.”

Danny grew up in a much smaller city in central Illinois called Amity Park. He moved to Gotham in the late summer of last year to continue his education at Gotham University. It’s a change that he describes as good, even as overwhelming as it is.

“Gotham has been surprisingly easy to fall in love with. I can see why Gothamites are so protective of the city,” Danny explains with the first hint of a smile on his face that I’ve seen since I came through the doors.

When I ask him if he hopes to stay in Gotham long term, Danny glances at Jason and blushes faintly. “I’d like to, if I can find work. There’s a lot here worth staying for and the city is just part of that.”

The words cause the first blush I’ve seen on Jason’s cheeks since he was new to the Wayne family and a little overwhelmed himself. Clearly Jason is one of the things worth staying for.

We talk a little about how Danny likes the Wayne family. He admits that he’s still getting to know them. He’d only been introduced to most of the family at the end of last year, right before finals. Already, though, there are stories to be told about board games and good food. Beyond the Waynes, Danny has someone else very important in Gotham.

“Your sister is in town, isn’t she?” I ask. “I imagine having her here during this has been nice.”

“It is. I was actually supposed to go and see her after New Years, but obviously…” Danny clears his throat and Jason takes one of Danny’s hands in his. Danny instantly relaxes into Jason’s side. “But yeah, having her here is really nice.”

“I take it you two are close then?”

“She was my anchor growing up,” Danny says with a little smile that’s tinged with sadness. “I wish she hadn’t had to be. Now that I’m older I know how unfair that was to her, but I’m so lucky that she did. She could so easily resent me for it, but she doesn’t at all. It makes it really easy to love her.”

“Not that it’s hard,” Jason adds with a chuckle. “I think her and Dick have already made an oldest sibling club and Damian thinks both Nightingales hung the moon, I swear.”

“Speaking of Nightingale, that isn’t your original last name, is it?”

It’s been an item of note in the recent write ups on Danny that both of the siblings had changed their last name to Nightingale from their birth name of Fenton. Their parents, doctors both, still go by Fenton. In Gotham, at least, the Doctor Fentons would be described as mad scientists. The so-called ‘ectobiologists’ have made their life a study of ghosts. In Amity Park, ‘the most haunted town in America’, they’re just part of the atmosphere.

Danny sighs and glances away. “No. Jazz and I both changed our last names when we turned eighteen. Jazz had wanted me to change it and go with her when she turned eighteen, but she had this great scholarship for college and she’d taken care of me enough. I couldn’t put that on her too, so I refused to until I was eighteen.”

“So you didn’t actually emancipate yourself?”

“Nope. One day late for that. But I moved out the same day I changed my name.”

“How did your parents take that?”

A wry smile twists Danny’s lips. “They didn’t notice until months later when the lab had gotten too dirty.”

“The lab?”

“It was one of my chores to clean it; another thing that I get was messed up now that I’m older and away from there. We, um, think that it was my exposure to all those chemicals that made me a meta.”

By all accounts, Danny’s meta status is how he survived the electrocution. It’s a label that he looks slightly uncomfortable with.

“It’s not that I mind being a meta,” he’s quick to assure me. “It’s just that… what actually made me one was an accident in the lab. I was electrocuted.” He raises his left arm up. The overly large red sleeve pools down to reveal a branching network of faint silver scars tracing his skin. “It’s hard right now to think back to it, after what happened. I really didn’t know if I would survive… either time. I’m lucky that all I have are scars.”

“But you thought that you might survive.”

“I did,” Danny says with a little shrug. He seems almost at ease with that question, unlike Jason.

Jason has to take a moment to press a kiss to Danny’s temple.

“After the first time I was electrocuted,” Danny explains, “I became a little more resistant to electricity— little shocks and things. It’s not like I ever tested it out with anything big. I guess it was just a feeling I had.”

When I ask Danny if he’s alright to talk about the night of the party he looks stressed by the idea but still gives a little nod. As he points out, it is why I’m there.

“I was getting some fresh air,” Danny explains. He’s picking at the sweater again. “The night was really lovely, but it’s just not the sort of thing I’m used to, you know? So I just wanted a moment to gather myself. I guess… I guess they were already watching me, because they knocked me out before I even really knew they were there.

“I woke up strapped to a metal chair. They’d taken my shoes and socks off. I couldn't understand why, but then,” Danny has to pause here and take a moment. Jason pulls him closer. “Then I noticed that my feet were in water and there was a wire in the water too. The wire wasn’t live but it’s… I mean it wasn’t hard to put it all together.”

“That must have been terrifying.”

“Yeah.” Danny looks over at the windows and the gray winter day beyond them. “I didn’t know who had taken me or why. I could hear some people close, talking about waiting for a signal, but it wasn’t much. When my eyes adjusted I could see a camera on a tripod and a laptop. I didn’t know what was going on, not until it turned on.

“Two Face was on it. I guess you know I’m not a native Gothamite that it took me a moment to recognize him,” Danny said with a weak laugh. “He explained what he was doing.”

I ask Danny what his first thought was when hearing the plan.

“Worry for Jason. Which I know sounds insane, but I guess… I guess I had already accepted the circumstance I was in. I just didn’t want Jason to have to go through that choice.”

“And then Jason was on the screen.”

“Yeah.”

“Jason, what were you feeling at seeing Danny on the television?”

“What do you think?” Jason asks, frustration lacing through his voice. “I was pissed off. I was scared. I was… I hated myself.”

“Why?”

“Because Danny was only in that situation because he was dating a Wayne. Because he was dating me. And there he was, a few seconds from death, bleeding, and… and telling me that he loved me.”

While Danny sounds almost detached talking about it, possibly a coping mechanism, Jason sounds like every wound is still fresh. It paints a terrifying picture of what it’s like to be the one to die versus the one who presses the button.

I turn back to Danny. “You said something to Jason in the video after that. There's been a great deal of debate about your words. Do you feel alright discussing them.”

Danny nods. I read out the quote: You know what you have to do, don’t you?

“Danny, what did you mean?”

“That Jason had to press my button,” Danny says with surprising ease. It’s clear that the order was one that he still stands by.

I ask about that certainty.

Danny gives a little shrug. He tucks himself back further under Jason’s arm, but I'm certain that the move is more for Jason’s comfort. “It was me or a group of other people. That would have been enough. I would never put myself first like that, but then you add in Damian and Bruce being part of that group? I couldn’t ask Jason to choose me over his family and Jason knows I wouldn’t.”

What about the chance of survival?

“Jason and I had talked about my accident before. Death… it’s something we both get, you know? So we both knew that there could be a chance of me surviving, but there was never any guarantee.”

“Are you going on record that you told Jason to press the button, knowing it could kill you?”

“Absolutely.”

And how did that insistence make Jason feel? Right then it seems all Jason can do is curl up around Danny, as if he can shield him from the past.

“Fucking horrible. Danny just looked at the whole situation and made the choice for me. I don’t know, maybe I should think that was freeing, but I still had to press the button.”

I point out that he could have made the other choice and he just shakes his head. “And make Danny live with that? He had made his choice. He didn’t want to trade his life for theirs. I hated it, but what sort of person would I have been if I didn’t let Danny take control of his own life? I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with either choice, so at least… at least I could listen to Danny.”

So Jason had pressed the button, Danny had been electrocuted (he refused to speak on the experience), and Jason had attacked Two Face. The man had ended up with a broken jaw and fractures in the orbital rim. It was while Jason had been sobbing in his father’s arms that they had gotten the word from one of Gotham’s local heroes: Danny was still alive.

“What did I feel? Hope,” Jason said with an almost despairing laugh. “I don’t… hope and I don't do well these days, but I felt hope. I don’t know if I believed it until I was actually holding his hands.”

“I was a little out of it when they got there,” Danny admits, which seems more than fair considering everyone else would have been dead. “But I’m so grateful to Nightwing and the paramedics taking care of me and letting me see Jason before the hospital. I really… I really needed him right then.”

And now?

“I’d like to say that I’m alright, but,” Danny shrugs, “it’s a lot to go through. But I know I’ll be alright. Jason and his family are amazing and I have Jazz here. I’ll keep healing, physically and mentally, and so will Jason. I know the internet has a lot to say about it all, but I think they need to understand that this turned out the best way that it could have.”

Jason kisses Danny’s temple again with a slight smile. He seems to be in agreement with everything his boyfriend said.

“I suppose I have just one more question,” I say after a moment of looking over my notes. “Why do you call Danny ‘fish’?”

I don’t get an answer, but maybe hearing those two able to laugh so soon after such a traumatic event is better than a story.

---

AN: *flops dramatically* darlings, this chapter is finally done! Thank you to @chromatographic and @mokulule for cheer/beta reading for me. This one was really hard to write since it's out of the normal style wise for me, but it felt like the best way to tell the story right there.

I hope you enjoy it!

I no longer tag, you can subscribe at the masterpost!

#dp x dc #dead on main #like betta fish do

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treasureofmammon · 2 months

Note

How about writing demon brothers as dads headcanon?

✨️Him as a dad✨️

I was feeling uninspired, but many of you gave me great ideas when I asked. Here is Anon's adorable idea: the 7 brothers as dads!

👥️Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor + MC (gn!reader) + Second generation (gender neutral as well)

⚠️Warnings: Fluff. "Conceiving" mentioned, so there's obvious hints to s3x. Obviously, the theme is Fatherhood.

🔎These are some headcannons that I have about the 7 brothers as dads, mostly based on my own interpretation of how they act.

📝 Note: I wrote one for Mammon alone some months ago, which you can read here

✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️

✨️ Intro ✨️

You and him have been trying to have a baby for some time now, either that you have been trying to conceive or that you have been waiting for a positive answer from an adoption agency.

Now, the good news come: you are having a baby! What would you and this child/children might expect of him as a father?

💙 Lucifer 💙

• He's already a dad! In fact, he's a dad at heart. Actually, taking care of anyone is something that comes naturally to him; although it's usually quite a displeasure to babysit who he has to babysit (yes, his brothers). So when you let him know that he's gonna be a father, the man is so excited! This is something that he really looks forward to.

• His first reaction is shock. But after a few seconds of letting it sink in, he's so happy! He hugs you tight! And he might cry a little but won't let you know. —Lu-Luci, are you crying?—, he looks away and sniffs, —N-No...—.

• As a provider, Lucifer is excellent. This child has it all from birth to adulthood and even beyond!

• At first, he makes sure that the kid's room is ready to receive them and is constantly changing it as they grow up to suit their needs.

• He tries his best to enroll the child in the best kindergarten, the best elementary school, the best high school, the best college, etc. In fact, in their first years, Luci is making sure that his baby is receiving all the positive stimulation you two can provide.

• Lucifer is an avid reader as well, so he's definitely reading to the child and encouraging them to read once the child knows how.

• He has a busy schedule, but he tries his best to assist to all of the events and activities that the kid has. A school play? Man is there with a camera on! A concert? Man is there with a camera on! A dance performance? Man is there with a camera on!

• Also, at those moments, he's feeling especially proud. With a huge grin in his face and his puffed chest filled with pride, he stands up at the end of the activity and applauds enthusiastically.

• Lucifer might not initiate affectionate contact, meaning he's not going to hug anyone unless asked. Nonetheless, if the kid extends his arms to his father, he for sure is hugging the kid, picking them up, and kissing them if asked.

• The child is probably very loving, though. You have thought them to be like that because you know Luci has some small issues with showing it himself, sometimes. But he's usually happy to receive the love. For instance, Lucifer might not always say "I love you", but if the kid says so, Luci will, of course, answer "me too". Or he might not kiss this kid out of the blue, but if the kid asks or surprises Lucifer with a kiss, Luci is happy to bent down and put his cheek in front of the kid for a little goodbye, goodnight or hello kissy.

• Although he might not be very expressive with his words, he expresses his love with his actions and acts of service. Lucifer is as present as he can. Always delivering to whatever this child needs.

• He's also a jealous father. So, the teenage child or young adult will have a hard time introducing you two to their romantic partner.

💛 Mammon 💛

• Mammon will cry! —Mammon, we will be parents!—, Mammon will be shocked, but then, he'll burst in tears, especially if this is something he's been looking forward to. —Honey, are you crying?— you ask, and answering between sniffs, he will say something tsundere-like: —N-No! I just got somethin' in my eyes! Like happiness or whatever...—. You must hug him very tight!

• Mammon is definitely buying everything in the Devildom to make this kid happy, from clothes, to decor, to toys (some not even appropriate for their age, say a figurine or a remote control car that the baby won't be able to play with until years later).

• He's preparing the kid's room almost on his own (especially if you're pregnant), doing all sorts of DIY projects until he's happy with the results.

• If you're pregnant, Mammon won't leave your side. He's there all the time!, either holding your hand, helping you get up, holding your hair if you are nauseous, etc. He's a supportive partner!

• Although he's messy. Once told he'll be a father, my baby boo is buckling up for real now. He might not stop gambling or his entrepreneur mistakes, but he'll slow down and always have enough money to give to his household.

• Mammon will take every bit of model gigs that he can to provide to this child and you. Although, you're probably the main provider of the household (let's be honest).

• He will play with this kid constantly, making pillow forts, hide and seek, etc.

• Mammon is happy to cook for this kid and then feed them until they have the age to properly feed themselves. For him, doing these domestic tasks is something he truly enjoys but will never let anyone know.

• He definitely cries with every achievement this kid has, even if it's just a symbolic graduation from kindergarten, Mammon is crying. You have to constantly reassure and console him, but it's no issue, right? After all, that just shows how much he loves this kid. Mammon is too cute!

• Mammon is also as present as he can. He records or takes pictures of everything: his baby's firsts steps, his baby's birthdays, his kid's graduations, his child's performances. Everything! And he knows how to do it in a way that looks good and even artistic.

• Mammon will not always help the kid with his homework, as some things might be difficult for him, either because he has a hard time explaining himself or because at some point, the topics will get too complicated for him. But Mammon will do what he can; for example, he'll definitely help if it's something like a solar system model.

• I'm sorry, but Mammon is incapable of punishing this child. That's a you task. Nonetheless, he's always there to nod at your side. He knows you're right.

• He will make original songs for your kid.

• On that note, he'll sing lullabies at night while tucking them up in bed. He won't read them though, because he usually falls asleep before them. It's quite funny actually.

• Though he acts like a tough guy, he has a soft spot for this kid for sure. It's a side that you always knew he had, but his family and friends didn't, so it's a pleasant surprise for everyone. Lucifer is super proud of Dad Mammon but won't tell him.

• Mammon is ready to drive the child to wherever they need to go. He might find it like a drag, but he'll do it for their own safety.

• He always prepares family movie nights, cheap family outings, special dinners and more. He's very creative on this one.

• Mammon will encourage and accept his kid's desires, opinions and decisions. He's a supportive dad all the way!

• He's also a protective and jealous dad! Your teenager kid / young adult child is having a hard time introducing him to their significant other.

🧡 Leviathan 🧡

• The news take him by surprise. He knew this is something that you wanted and he, as usual, is willing to give you whatever you want, but now that it's a reality, he is a mix of nervousness and happiness.

• He has a lot of self doubts of him as a dad the first few months (even years), so you constantly have to reassure him that everything will be okay and that he will/is doing great.

• With time, he's nervousness transforms into excitement! Especially when you brought up the topic of the kid becoming a new player.

• He'll design and sew family t-shirts with "Player N.1", "Player N.2" and "Player N.3" phrases.

• If a newborn baby, the first time he sees them, he's very scared to hold them, but once you teach him how and he calms down, he looks at his child's little face and cries. You stay in silence by his side, and say nothing, letting him have his father-child moment in peace.

• Levi is a very supportive father, constantly backing up his child's decisions and actions.

• His kid is definitely very aware that bullying is wrong, except if directed to uncle Mammon. So Levi is a very proud dad when he realizes that his kid is stepping up to defend someone.

• Leviathan is definitely helping with homework, especially if artistic or crafty. He's also designing all the costumes for the school plays and dance performances.

• He has a hard time coming to parent meetings, so that's a task that you'll have to assume. Sorry. But that doesn't mean he isn't interested in what they had to say; in fact, as soon as you walk in home, he's asking about everything the teacher said.

• Levi will go to school events and activities, but it takes a lot of effort for him to do so. You have convinced him to use his Navy uniform and act as an extroverted anime Admiral. That façade actually helped him in Parents' day, when each kid had to introduce one of his parents and then the parent had to explain their job: —I- I...— *ahem* —I am the Devildom's Grand Admiral, Leviathan, Avatar of Envy...—, suddenly, a very deep and masculine voice that you and your kid have never heard comes out of Levi, explaining his job as an Admiral, part of his act as his alterego character.

• Levi does slow down with his gaming addiction. He has to, because you two need to work as a team to raise this kid well.

• Talking about gaming, Levi is pushing this hobby to his child too. He also watches anime and reads manga to/with his child since a little baby. Either they'll grow up to love it or hate it.

• Once you're able to go back to work, he stays home and takes care of everything on that side. Although he might have escaped from a task once or twice during the day to play videogames, watch anime or read manga. Once an otaku, always an otaku.

• Nonetheless, Leviathan will take decisions and act in ways that not you nor his family and friends expected. As a father, Levi will grow up in a heartbeat, without stop being himself. It's something extraordinary and wonderful to see. This actually happened to my uncle, it was so interesting.

• Finally, Levi is not a jealous father. On the contrary, he will respect his child's decision and encourage them unconditionally always. Always.

💚 Satan 💚

• —Satan, we are having a child!—. Very much like some of his brothers, he's shocked to know; but slowly, as the news sink in, he goes from shocked to complete happiness. To said the least, he's thrilled, hugging you tight and kissing you all-over your pretty face, —I love you so much, thank you kitten!—. He might tear a little, but won't even hide it. —Oh! Darling, are you crying?—, —Why, of course! I'm going to be a dad! I'm happy!—.

• Satan is definitely getting serious as soon as the news arrive. He'll get a job, probably as an scholar. And if you're not married yet, he'll marry you for sure: —I read that it's a big deal in the human realm if people have kids without getting married, so I'll propose to you anytime soon! Prepare kitten—, you sigh and answer —Honey, have you been reading human books from the XIX century again?—, —... ... ... That doesn't matter, ok? Let's get married!—. Don't worry, he'll propose to you again and in a very romantic way.

• He's also reading a lot of parenting books, like..., a lot.

• If the child is a baby (biological or not), Satan will go shopping with you to get the nursery room ready. And yes, everything is cat themed; I promise it looks adorable anyway.

• When Satan sees this child for the first time, he feels an instant connection. He'll carefully hold his baby/kid, look at their small face, and cry of happiness, completely full of love for them.

• Once the child is home (if adopted) or big enough (if biological), he's a super dad! He prepares nutritional meals, he plays stimulating games with them, he reads them all the time, and teach them all the important things. It's actually a beautiful sight to witness.

• He'll waste no opportunity to dress his adorable kid in cat themed clothes.

• Satan, as the book lover that he is, will definitely encourage reading. In fact, reading is a must in this household!

• Similar to Lucifer, Satan wants the best education for his child from start to finish. He might be a little pushy with the fact that academical success is important, which might cause tension between him and his child if the latter doesn't enjoy it or has a hard time.

• Nonetheless, Satan is always there to help with homework. He also gives great advice.

• Since Satan has some paternal figure issues, he might doubt himself from time to time, reconsidering his methods as a dad. Even if he read all the parenting books there is, like the rest of his brothers (and the entirety of parents in the world), nothing actually prepared him for parenthood. However, he has you by his side to help, talk, and give him encouragement if needed. And so, likewise, if you feel doubtful, he's there for you too.

• He's 100% in all his kid's events. He won't miss one. He doesn't like to be the one filming or taking pictures. That'd be you. Because he actually prefers to enjoy his kid's performances to the fullest without any interruptions. He feels extremely proud once the event is over.

• He's a very active dad in matters like school meetings, parents' day, festivals, sports, poetry recitals, etc.

• Like Mammon and Lucifer, he's a jealous dad. Yes, this poor child will also have a hard time introducing their partner to Satan.

• Satan would actually be an amazing dad. He will do his best to succeed in this too, trying to find the balance between a loving and a serious dad.

• Now, do you realize that this kid will be the child of Satan? You better raise him in the Devildom to avoid any unnecessary problems in the Human realm.

🩷 Asmodeus 🩷

• Asmo was not into being a dad at first. After all, that'd mean that he can't party as much as he wants. But you managed to convince him. He can't win against you. Besides, he'll give you whatever you want, whenever you want it.

• Although at first he was unsure, after realizing that he'd create something beautiful with you (a family), he was in! Especially if that means conceiving, because... well, he's the Avatar of Lust, after all.

• When you tell him the good news, Asmo is extremely excited! He hugs you and swings you around. —Oh hon! That's fantastic!—. That day turned into one of the best days of his life.

• If you're pregnant, expect Asmo to be around you all the time, making sure that you're alright. He has your back. You can count on him.

• Also, he's definitely designing the most flamboyant kid's room ever! And definitely makes his brothers arrange it for him. It's not that he can't do it himself. It's just that why would he risk damaging his beautiful hands if his brothers are all there?!

• When the kid is finally here, Asmo is excited and happy. He'll definitely cry openly and dramatically because he sincerely feels so. He has been waiting for so long!, and now his child is here, with you two. Immense love fills his chest, and tears can't stop escaping his gorgeous eyes.

• Asmo bought a huge wardrobe with the cutest and most fashionable pieces of clothes for kids!

• You thought that Asmo was not going to change diapers or clean other fluids; but, boy, were you wrong! He does! And he takes the opportunity to dress the baby up every single time, making them look more adorable than they already are. Yes, this kid has around 5 daily outfit changings.

• Obviously, Asmo is in charge of the kid's clothing.

• He's taking pictures and videos of his child ALL THE TIME!! Including selfies. He won't post them on social media, though, because you explained to him how harming that can be. Instead, he is creating an artsy digital album for the family with all these.

• Asmo is not in the school events as a simple viewer, Asmo is the school director of the plays, the choreographer, the music compositor, and/or the costumes' designer. You can bet he's there to make sure his little baby shines!

• As a father, Asmo is very open-minded, loving, and caring. And his child is definitely enjoying all of his attention.

• In fact, Asmo is always hugging your kid tight! This might become a nuisance when they grow older.

• He's also extremely supportive and maybe even a little too laid-back in certain areas. As Mammon, he won't punish this child, and being the "bad guy" will fall on you.

• Asmo is not an overprotective dad. In fact, he encourages his child to live freely, trusting that you and him have made a good job raising them.

❤️ Beelzebub ❤️

• —Beel, I want a baby!—, —Okay—. He won't even dissuade you. He'll give you whatever you want. You want a hamburger?, he'll bring hamburgers to home for you (half eaten by him, sorry). You want a fancy date?, he's taking you on a fancy date. You want a house?, he'll give you a house. You want to murder someone?, he'll do it for you! You want a baby?, he's giving you one in whatever way you want: conceiving, adopting, heck!, even stealing it from their birth parents. Of course, you won't ask him to do something that is clearly wrong. If anything, you're a positive person in his life. That's why he loves you so much.

• For Beel, family is everything, and so is this child. Although he didn't quite realize that he'd be a father until the child arrives. Of course, he's happy when you tell him the good news, but it's until he's holding the baby that it actually sinks.

• Just one look into that kid's face, and he swears that he will protect this child no matter what. Yes, he prepared the kid's room the way you wanted; yes, he saw your belly grow, took care of you and held your hand during childbirth (if you got pregnant); yes, he saw you prepare for everything, but it's until he holds his child that he realizes the precious weight that he has now. —Y/N, I'll protect you and this child with my life—, none a single second to look at another thing or person other than his kid.

• As expected, this kid is very loving with their father because Beel is a gentle giant, a huge teddy bear! They are always hugging him and playing with him.

• And Beel is definitely the type of father to give his child whatever they want.

• Beel is very expressive with his actions. He always does all sorts of things for his kid, from cooking their favorite meal to building them a tree house, from playing with them to helping them do their homework..., everything!

• One of Beel's love languages is quality time, so he'll definitely spend time with his child. Since he's a sports lover, he'll teach the kid some sports (most likely, fangoal).

• Beel is not very expressive with his words, but when needed, Beel will give his kid precious advice. Those are the very few times that your kid will remember his father's wisdom and carry his teachings into adulthood.

• Beel is very open-minded. He will trust his kid's decisions and respect their opinions, hoping you and him have done a good job raising this child.

• Beel is not a jealous father, but if necessary, he'll look into someone if he has a hunch and then talk to you if necessary.

💜 Belphegor 💜

• —Belphie, I want a child!—, an awkward silence fills the attic, a long pause while Belphie looks at you straight in the eyes —... and you chose me to be their dad?!, Nah-ah—. He definitely didn't want to be a dad, that actually didn't even cross his mind. Marry you? Without hesitation. Living together? Obviously, yes! Have pets together? Sure! But him being a dad? Don't you remember the example his dad set?

• But you'll definitely insist on this one (or maybe you'll get pregnant without planning it). Anyway, he will eventually say yes, but only if you let him be (sleep), —... then I guess it's fine. Although it seems like a lot of work but I can't really say no to you if this is something you really want, can I?—, he sighs and lays down in bed, ready to nap for the nth time.

• When the news arrives, Belphie is quite surprised. But he's happy nonetheless. He has never experienced or witnessed firsthand what raising a kid it's like, so he can't help but remember what it was like when Lilith came to life. She was such a refreshing gust of air, wonderfully candid and kind. So suddenly, Belphie is eager to take this step with you.

• If this kid is being born, Belphie suggests naming them Lilith, and you agree.

• Although he doesn't like to do physical efforts, he will prepare the kid's room with a little a lot of help from his twin brother, of course.

• Belphie is a loving father, but since he's lazy, don't expect him to do much around the house. He tries, though. It's just that his sin consumes him most of the time.

• He enjoys peaceful activities, though, like cooking and/or feeding the child, reading them books, playing some games, watching movies, and obviously, sleeping while cuddling.

• Belphie is a stay-at-home dad, so he's quite present in his child's life. But like his brother Leviathan, he'll escape his tasks once or twice a day, although to sleep.

• He might not like going outside to school events, but he always makes a huge effort to go. He watches the whole thing, proud of his kid.

• He cuddles and hugs his kid a lot. He has no reservations in that regard.

• Belphie enjoys family time a lot, especially if you invite Beel to join.

• Belphie doesn't care about anything, as long as his kid is happy, he's fine. So he isn't a jealous dad either.

✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️

[Notes: The character(s) depicted here belong to the mobile game "Obey me: shall we date" and are owned by Solmare Corporation. The text here was made by me: Treasure of Mammon, meaning this is fan-made. | GN!Reader | English is not my first language, so there might be orthographic and syntax errors. I urge you all to interact kindly with this post].

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writers-hes · 10 months

Text

since when? (a. bridgerton x reader)

You grew up with the Bridgertons and for the longest time, Anthony thought of you as a friend…since when did he look at you differently? (friends to lovers, slow burn, the Bridgertons being the best wing men, you look at him but he’s already looking at you….) helpful links: navigation | master lists | rules and guidelines | tag list | fic recs

It was no secret among the Ton that your family was a dear friend to the Bridgertons. Your mother and Violet Bridgerton have been friends since they were children. They shared paper crowns, secrets, joys, and sorrows. They got married in the same year and soon enough, your mother was helping Violet as she birthed Anthony and then Benedict. Soon, it was Violet who helped your mother as she birthed her only child, you.

The Bridgerton household has always been big and it provided your parents some comfort to know that you won’t have to grow up alone. You’d always be surrounded by the Bridgertons and you were. Many a time, the older brothers would sneak into your gardens to tease you while you played with your dolls, a picnic blanket laid on the grass as you waited for Violet to bring Daphne.

“You know, there are other games than dolls,” Colin would tease, his nose scrunching. “Anthony loves to play pall mall. Maybe you’d beat him,”

“Hey! No one can beat me,” Anthony would scold, taking a doll from your hand.

“Anthony! Give me back my doll!” you’d call and he’d run away from you, cackling evilly while his younger brothers inspected your toys curiously. When you’d grow tired, you’d sit on the porch of your house and cry until Anthony came over to you with an apologetic look on his face.

“You took my doll, Anthony! You can’t make girls cry! You can’t make your friend cry too!” you’d sob but Anthony would utter a string of apologies that you’d accept. “I’m your friend, right?”

“Of course. I’m sorry for making you cry,” he’d say. Later in the day, he’d force Benedict to give one of the servants a box of cookies for you and in the morning, he’d sneak off again to see you happily munching on them. He’d steal a piece or two of course, but as a punishment, you’d force him to stay and have a tea party with you.

When you grew older, Anthony was still playful. When he’d bring his friends over while you were having tea with Daphne, he’d pull a face and would ask “What are you doing here again? Do you not have a home?”

“I could say the same,” you shrugged. You were teenagers now and the blows just got better. “With the amount of time you spend in our house, one would think that your family hates you. Guess, I’m right,” you shrugged, the same amount of sarcasm.

“Don’t mind him,” Daphne would say, rolling her eyes. “He’s sulky whenever you’re not around,”

“He’s probably annoyed because he’a got no one to annoy, Daph,” you replied, sipping on tea. She’d smile at you and you’d smile back at the girl whom you’ve always loved as a little sister. “It’s been a while since all of us got together but I understand, of course. The boys have their education to attend to and us…well, we have pianoforte and needlework,”

“They will be coming back soon for a break,” Daphne says. “Perhaps we can all have a picnic?”

And so you all attended a picnic together. It was a summer’s day, families were setting up their own tents in the park for a lovely afternoon. It was unusual to see your family’s tent and the Bridgertons’ right beside each other.

“What is it you’re reading?” Benedict asked, when he saw you. He just got back from schooling two days ago and was back to his old antics.

“Nothing worth mentioning since you can’t read,” you replied with a smile hiding behind the book. “Gregory’s still so young but I bet he can read way better,”

“Hey!” he scolds. “If you must know, I was the best reader in my class as a young boy,”

You laughed. “How have you been, Ben?” You’ve always been softer on Ben and Colin. They’d bother you like brothers did but they never made you cry as a child.

“Same old,” he shrugs, sitting next to you. “I took art history and art as a course for my studies this year,”

“And?”

“I plan on pursuing it,” Ben says. You smiled proudly at him.

“That’s great, Benedict. My husband and I would like to commission you for a painting in the future,” you said. “When you’re famous, please give me a friendly rate!”

“You don’t even have a husband yet,” Benedict shrugged. “Besides, maybe it’ll be your husband who’s going to finance my artistic pursuits,” he hinted and you tilted your head, confused.

“I don’t have a husband…” you trailed off, making Benedict laugh as he saw the gears in your head turning.

“I jest!” he says, making you laugh.

“You are insufferable, Benedict Bridgerton!”

“You are as clueless as I am insufferable,”

It didn’t take long enough for you to make your debut and enter society. It was a big commotion inside your house but a quiet one amongst the Ton. It unnerved you because you were still young. How could your mother not see that you didn’t want to marry yet? She told you that you’d been putting it off for years; now that you were not a teenager. Two and twenty…a little too late to debut but who cared? You were the most beautiful debutante the Ton has ever seen…or at least someone thought so.

“Stop your staring, brother or flies will get inside your mouth,” Colin whispered, leaning ever so slightly to Anthony.

“I am not staring! I’m only surprised,” Anthony replied.

“Well, no one should be surprised,” Benedict added. “She’s of age and she needs to find a husband. Could you imagine? If she marries this year, we could have a little baby to bother next year. Oh, I so want to become an uncle!”

You were looking around nervously. You’ve always hated big gatherings and Lady Danbury’s ball was enormous. At the sight of your three friends, you visibly relaxed, excusing yourself from the gentlemen who approached you (quite rudely) to make a beeline towards them.

“Oh, God. I’m so glad you’re here!” you breathed.

“Lady Danbury would have our eyes for breakfast if we do not attend,” Colin replied. “You look beautiful!”

“Thank you, Colin,” you said, scrunching your nose. You weren’t unfamiliar with Colin’s compliments now and then. He never found it troublesome to say the words one needed to hear to feel comfortable, if not good.

“I was just talking about how much I want to become an uncle,” Benedict said. “Anthony doesn’t want to marry, Daphne’s too young…”

“And you’ve taken me as an unwilling volunteer of your aspirations,” you finished for him, making him chuckle.

“Well, that might be the case. Have you ever had champagne? Libations are usually free-flowing in events like these,” Benedict winked. “In fact, let’s go get champagne after we dance. Come,” he says, extending his hand toward you. You smiled brightly and accepted with your gloved hand, allowing Benedict to lead you to the dancefloor.

“Tsk tsk,” Colin chides Anthony who has not said a word since your arrival. “She’s beautiful, is she not?”

“I suppose,” he mutters before taking an exit.

Upon hearing the news that you have debuted, the girls rushed to your house to hear about last night.

“Did you meet anyone?” Daphne asked eagerly.

“No one,” you replied, seeing as Daphne deflated, you tried to brighten her spirits up. “But…it’s only the first ball. There are many other balls to attend to and bachelors to meet,”

“Are Lady Danbury’s ball as great as everyone makes it out to be?” Francesca asked. “Where are your callers?”

“It is,” you nodded. “I have not danced with anyone last night but Benedict and Colin,” you shared.

Daphne, Eloise, and Francesca were all excited for you. Daphne, mostly, who has always looked up to you as her older sister. Now that you’ve made your debut to society, it could be real. You could finally be her sister.

“And Anthony?” she asked.

“He was brooding the whole night,” you chuckled. “As he always does,”

“I hope whoever you marry is at least smart,” Eloise commented from her chair. “Someone smart enough to hold a conversation…definitely not one of my brothers,”

“Eloise!” you scolded playfully.

“What? It is true,” she shrugged, a glint in her eye.

In a few hours, Anthony comes to fetch his sister. You had been answering the younger girls’ questions patiently, keeping them entertained as you showed them your dresses for the season. Eloise was in the drawing room, drowning herself in her writing.

“Where’s Daphne and Francesca?” Anthony asked.

“Hello to you too, brother,” Eloise greeted. “They’re in Y/N’s bedchamber. She’s showing them some dresses and other things for the season,”

Anthony hummed and made a beeline for your room. It was wide open, your giggles heard in the corridor. Eloise was hot on his tails, trying to see the commotion for herself.

“I hope you’re not giving my sisters any ideas,” he says, leaning on your doorframe. In all of the years he’s known you, he’s never seen your bedchamber. His eyes were darting around quickly, taking note of your books, your table, and paraphernalia that embodied who you were.

“Anthony!” you greet. “Ow!”

He looks at you in alarm, laughing when Francesca apologizes for stepping on your shoes as you taught her how to dance.

“What are you doing, Francesca?” he asked, back straightening to walk inside but he stopped himself, afraid to cross any boundaries. It was Eloise who literally had to shove him slightly.

“It’s okay, Anthony,” you smiled. “I was teaching your sisters how to dance. I’m a great dancer, you know? I can teach you…so you won’t have to step on a poor girl’s foot while you dance,” you teased.

Three girls waited in anticipation but Anthony said nothing.

“No reply?” you asked. “It must be my lucky day, girls.”

“Not that it’s any of my concern but I’m afraid I’m a far better dancer than you’ll ever be. Perhaps, it is I who should teach you? Benedict complained all night because of your dancing,”

“He did not!”

“He did,” he teased, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “Come along, sisters. Mother wants us all for dinner,”

That night, when the three sisters were huddled in the library quietly, they all agreed how wonderful it would be to have you as a part of the family. Unbeknownst to them, their two older brothers also agree.

Anthony peeked outside the window, noticing the line of carriages on the street.

“What’s the commotion outside?” he asked, no one in particular.

“Didn’t you know? Our Y/N was the talk of the ball last night,” Benedict replied. “Such a shame you weren’t there, Anthony. She was seen making an acquaintance with a businessman. He asked if he could call on her today and her mother said yes. Her dance card was filled to the brim, I almost wasn’t able to dance with her,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he watched Anthony. He wasn’t lying, you told him all about it and showed him your dance card. You complained at how tired you were while you both danced. “Maybe we’ll have a nephew or a niece soon, hmm?”

“Can you go accompany me later, Anthony? I want to go to her and see all of these gifts!” Daphne asked. “Do you think someone gifted her a dog?”

“Ask Benedict or Colin to come with you,” he replied sourly.

“I can’t…I have a prior commitment,” Benedict lied. “with Colin,”

“Ah, yes,” Colin added. “I am ready to go to the farm, brother,”

“Come on, Anthony. You could just take me there and leave me. You can come back in a couple of hours!” Daphne begged.

Anthont relented before walking off. He didn’t see how his younger siblings smirked at each other.

Afternoon came and you were tired. You were sitting lazily on the loveseat amongst gift boxes you have yet to open. Luckily, no one gifted you with a dog.

“Y/N!” Daphne called and you smiled, fixing your posture slightly to greet her. “Your gifts! They’re so many!”

“Hello, Daphne,” you greeted. “Anthony, you’re here,”

“Daphne dragged me,” he said, taking a piece of chocolate from the box given to you by some gentleman before plopping down in front of you. “Don’t mind me.”

You looked at Daphne who shrugged.

“Do you want to open them with me?” you asked her, sitting up. “I need your help, you know and you can take whatever you might like,”

“Really?” she asked eagerly. “You’re certain? These might cost a fortune and you’re giving it away?”

“Yes,” you nod. “You can take some for Francesca, Eloise, and Hyacinth too. Besides, you’ll be helping me out. None of these would fit in my room,”

Daphne nods excitedly and picks a box from a shop she knew. She gasped as she takes out a music box with a man and a woman dancing in the middle. She turns the crank and hears a sweet melody.

“Look! The female dancer looks like you,” she says. She digs the box for anything and reads out a card. “Thank you for keeping me company and for making me feel welcomed. Sincerely, A.S..?”

“Alfred,” you told her. Anthony was secretly listening to your conversation. You were on a first name basis now? It annoyed him, he didn’t know why. “We danced last night,”

“What does he look like? Is he handsome?”

“He is!” you giggled, putting away the box that you just opened. “He looks quite intimidating and has a brusque way of speaking but he’s gentle.”

“What are the color of his eyes?” she asked.

“Gray…with hazel and blue,” you replied. “It looks like a dark blue from afar but when you’re closer, you’ll see specks of other colors too,”

“I wish to meet him,”

“Daphne!” Anthony scolded after listening.

“Sorry,” she apologized, a frown on her face.

“It’s okay,” you assured. “You can meet him some other time.”

The Ton fully believed that you were courting. Sightings of you and Alfred around London had been common. You’d have your hands wrapped around his arm while your maid trailed behind. People were so sure that you were courting. How could they not? He was always calling on you or has been seen dancing with you multiple times. It didn’t help that Alfred only danced with you during balls. It didn’t help at all.

“Y/N has been spending so much time with that Alfred lately,” Colin remarked. “They’re always huddled by the dance floor, laughing among themselves. If they weren’t dancing, you’d be certain that they’d be together,”

Colin looked at Benedict discreetly. Daphne and her sisters watched Anthony.

“Maybe there will be a nephew or a niece after all,” Anthony replied with a strained voice. His throat ached as he suppressed an emotion that bubbled in his chest.

The Bridgertons could not be any more wrong. On your first meeting with Alfred, he admitted that he had a girl he loved back home. He hasn’t told her yet, still building his business to fully support her. He only attended this social season to expand his business and had made your acquaintance because your father invested a sum in his business. You both agreed to keep a ruse that you were courting. You weren’t looking to marry and he didn’t want any mamas vulturing him.

He’d been successful in gathering investors. He told you all about his travels and about the woman he left home. He said that they’d visit you sometime soon. Meanwhile, you showed him to London’s high society. You told your father to invite him to his club. He liked dancing and had thought of you as a suitable dance partner. Your parents never minded. The more you spent time with Alfred, the more suitors you had. You’d never know exactly why but Alfred has been telling everyone that you were warm, comforting, and kind.

One afternoon, you were seen with Alfred again, not knowing that the Bridgertons were there in the park too. It was nothing formal. Alfred showed up at your door, asking if you had any plans this afternoon. You said no and asked if you’d like to accompany him to the park. He’ll be leaving in a few days and wanted to spend more time with you before he left.

Anthont watched from the tent as you passed by. You were so consumed with some joke that you didn’t notice the tent.

“Is that Y/N and Sir Alfred?” Daphne asked. “He’s as handsome as she described him! Franscesca, look! I’m going to say hello,” she declared before gathering herself. Anthony ran after his sister who was more than excited to be introduced to the man who had occupied your time. Maybe it was Daphne but maybe it was because he needed to know but either way, he followed.

“Y/N!” Daphne called and you stopped, smiling widely as Daphne neared. You also threw a quick smile towards Anthony.

“Hello, Daphne,” you greeted. “I didn’t know you were here. Had I known, I would have dropped by,”

“It’s alright. I just wanted to say hello to you and…”

Your eyebrows rose and you chuckled.

“Alfred,” your friend introduced himself. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Bridgerton. Y/N has talked so greatly about you. Good afternoon, Viscount Bridgerton,” he greeted and Anthony returned the greeting.

“Alfie—Alfred, you’ve yet to meet the others,” you smiled up at him. Anthony’s heart clenched. Alfie?

“Hey! I told you to stop calling me that,” he chastised playfully. “It ruins my reputation,”

“I apologize, sir Alfie,” you teased. “Anyhow, this is Daphne and Anthony. They’ve been my friends since we were children. They’re like my siblings,”

Alfred’s eyebrows shot up. Maybe to all of them…but that label was disliked by someone. He was looking at him right now.

“Would it be a bother if I introduced Alfred to the rest of the family?” you asked. Daphne shook her head, taking your hand immediately to bring you to their tent, Alfred and Anthony in tow.

“Y/N’s here!” Daphne announced. “She brought Sir Alfred with her,”

“Sorry for the intrusion, everyone,” you apologized. Anthony was about to say that it wasn’t a bother at all. He saw how his siblings’ faces lit up when they saw you. “Everyone, meet sir Alfred. Alfred, meet everyone,”

Everyone introduced themselves. Alfred was charming and perfect for you. Anthony could see that and it made him uncomfortable. He’d been denying the fact for so long and he will continue to do so.

“Alfred is very favorable, is he not?” Violet commented when you both left. You had to go attend an opera show with Alfred for the evening. “Such a handsome man who seems to care deeply for our Y/N. Do you think they’ll be engaged soon?”

“I believe someone else is perfect for our Y/N,” Benedict spoke. “Alfred may be as you described him, mother but I see nothing but friendship between the two of them. Trust me,”

The simple bracelet dangling on your arm made Anthony question Benedict. You told Daphne that you weren’t feeling well today because Alfred left last night. As a parting gift, he gave you a bracelet with a simple pendant. Daphne recalled how puffy your eyes were when she visited. It was obvious that you both held each other dearly. You were just too sad to see him go.

Anthony took it upon himself to light your spirits up again. After a morning of appeasing your callers, Anthony put it upon himself to sit by the garden seen right outside of your drawing room. You knew he was there, he always liked to sit by the swings. You walked towards him and he looked up.

“Why are you here?” you asked.

“I’ve noticed how sad you’ve been since your…Sir Alfred left London,” he said. “So, I thought…why must I let you suffer any longer? Let’s have tea in that place you like. I’ll pay for everything,”

“What happened to Anthony Bridgerton?” you asked and he chuckled.

“We’ve been friends way before we learned how to walk. Besides, banter gets boring, don’t you agree?” he asked, extending his arm for you to take. “You know what? I’ll even listen to you. Just for a day,”

“You will?” you asked, attaching your hand on his arm. “Wait—my maid—“

“It’s okay. Everything has been taken care of,” he said. “Let’s go,”

The Bridgerton carriage waited for you both and he let you in. The ride to the town square was quiet. If anyone understood your plight, it was Anthony. Besides, who would he tell? The gossip papers? Certainly not.

Sitting across from him in a secluded table in the tea shop with finger food and tea before you, you decided to speak.

“Alfred and I weren’t courting,” you confessed, sipping your tea. Anthony feels the constriction in his chest loosen. As if he hadn’t been breathing properly before your confession.

“Pardon?” he asked, setting down the cucumber sandwich that he was eating. “You’re not courting? Then…what about your dances? Everyone was waiting for the two of you to wed. You do know that you aren’t fooling me, right?”

You chuckled.

“He has a sweetheart back home,” you said and Anthony’s hands clenched. How could someone like Alfred fool you? “It’s not like that…before you declare war. Listen to me, alright?”

“Alright,”

“He and I thought of a ruse that we’re courting. I don’t want to be married yet, Anthony. You know more than anyone that I’m in no rush. He didn’t want to be surrounded by debutantes and mothers who asked him for a dance. He was only here to expand his business by looking for more investors,” you said coolly. You looked at Anthony’s furrowed brows. “I know I should have told you but we both agreed to keep it between us. The fewer people involved, the more effective. He and I are friends and nothing but,”

“What about the music box and your bracelet?” he asked. He wanted to take the words back if he could. It showed that he paid attention and it bothered him.

“Oh…” you stuttered, looking away. “The music box was a gift from him. A gift for agreeing with everything. The bracelet…well, it’s the same. It’s a parting gift for our friendship. We both have the same bracelet with the same gem. I was sad to see him leave but more than anything, I’m looking forward to his next return with the woman he loves. Did you know he’s going to confess his feelings? If everything goes well, he'll ask her hand for marriage.” you said and Anthony knew that it was the truth. Your eyes sparkled as you talked about Alfred’s possible marriage.

“It’s what I want for myself,” you spoke. “I want to marry under those circumstances and not because of practicality or…whatever it is. I am expected to marry someone with a rank…someone from a good family. I am an only child but I do not want to be restricted by my responsibilities,”

“I see,” was his pensive reply. “We haven’t danced yet. Did you know that?”

“I am well aware,” you acknowledged. “The last ball will be soon. Would you care for a dance, Viscount Bridgerton?”

“I would,”

Anthony went home that day humming.

Violet was alarmed…he has never seen Anthony so carefree since Edmund’s tragic death. His brothers were amused and his sisters were confused. They were all so used to a brooding Anthony.

“Anthony, is everything alright?” Violet Bridgerton asked. Anthony halts his step, sitting on his own chair.

“Of course,” he says. “It’s a wonderful day, is it not?”

“I suppose so,” his mother replies. “Would you like some tea before dinner? I can make you a cup,”

“It’s quite alright, mother. Y/N and I just had tea,” he shrugged. Daphne’s piano stopped playing and Anthony could feel eyes on him.

“You and who?” Benedict asked.

“Y/N and I,” Anthony replied. “Why are you all looking at me? Is something the matter?”

“No but usually you’d ask me to come—“ Daphne stops as her mother looks at her pointedly. Anthony was in good spirits and it is therefore favorable for everyone if his good mood persists.

“Of course, dear sister but remember, she and I are good friends. I just decided to ask her to spend the afternoon with after Sir Alfred’s departure,” Anthony replied. They didn’t know what he knew.

“Such a shame,” Eloise added. “I thought for sure they’ll be married by the end of the season,”

“What?” Anthony asked, an edge in his voice. Violet’s eyes rolled, annoyed that Eloise might have ruined Anthony’s mood. “Why must she marry him? There are other bachelors in London who suit her better,” he says. “Besides, they are friends,”

“What about the bracelet he gave her? Did you know he has the same one?” Daphne asked.

“Would you rather her marry somebody from outside London and see her rarely or marry someone close and see her often?” Anthony asked. Everyone stayed silent, it seemed as though the Viscount himself hadn't realized his feelings. “Exactly. Anyhow, thank you for your interrogation. I will be in my study to oversee some matters,”

He says, kissing his mother’s head before walking off.

“If that is what Y/N can do to Anthony, I would really want her to be married to him,” Francesca says, earning a few nods from her siblings.

The last ball of the season came and Anthony was dressed in his best clothes. He went to his barber before going to the tailor to have his clothes altered perfectly. He was in the ballroom, awaiting your arrival. Before leaving that afternoon, you both agreed to look your best.

Your mother soon comes with you behind her. You were donned in Anthony’s favorite color, butterflies and flowers embroidered in the dress. Jewels were in place, your hair falling in all the right places. Anthony thought that you looked ethereal.

He waited until you saw him, eyes brightening. He smiled, walking towards you. He forgot his brothers who stood behind him. He’d love nothing more than to have your first and last dances.

“Anthony,” you greeted. He takes your hand and kisses your gloved hands.

“You look beautiful,” he says.

“Does that mean I’m not beautiful on a regular day?” you teased. “You look just as handsome, Anthony,”

“Shall we dance?” he asked and you nodded, allowing him to escort you to the dance floor. Anthony looks into your eyes as lilting music starts. Soft murmurs in the crowd fade away. It’s the first time he’s seen you so, so close. There was a faint smile playing on your lips and he found himself smiling too. “Do you remember, when we were younger, our dance teachers would pair us together?”

“And I remember being the better dancer,” you boasted. “Is this how you teach?”

“No,” he replied, finding his hand on your hip, the feeling of the fabric soft against his skin. “I concede. You are the superior dancer,”

You beamed. Anthony thought that he’d let himself lose in your arguments to see you smile like that again.

“Maybe I should teach you…so you wouldn’t have to embarrass yourself in front of other debutantes,” you offered.

“Why should I learn how to dance with others when I’m perfectly fine with my dance partner?” Anthony asked. “It’s just…one, two, step. Remember?”

“Of course, I do,” you replied. “I remember Miss Rutherford scolding you for stepping on my toes,”

Anthony laughed. “You will never let that down, will you?”

“Of course not. Banter may get boring but I find it most pleasurable to see you agitated,” you replied. “Do I…agitate you?” you asked, swallowing thickly. Anthony could feel your breath on his face.

“You do,” he replied. “Is that good?”

“Very,”

“How was your dance?” Benedict asked. “Did you all know that he and Y/N danced last night? Laughing among themselves?”

“You did?” Francesca asked, excited.

“He left us when he saw her. I think Anthony forgot that he was supposed to be with his brothers,” Colin teased.

“I don’t see the matter,” Anthony replied, swallowing his breakfast. “You have both danced with Y/N. I did too. We are friends,”

“Of course,” Colin replied. “Only…you had your eyes glued on her last night. You shared your last dance together. Mother had to separate the two of you beside the refreshments table because you were too busy giggling among yourselves,”

“I for one would love it if Y/N became a part of our family,” Eloise remarked.

“Isn’t she already a part of it? We all grew up together. Why is everyone acting absurd?” Anthony asked but he knew. He couldn’t stop thinking about you these days. Last night, he tossed and turned in his bed because he couldn’t stop his heart fluttering from the recent events. He remembered the relief he felt when you told him about your ruse with Alfred. He remembered how much he enjoyed his banter with you over the years…most especially recently. He has always seen you as a friend. Since when has he looked at you in a different light? His mouth ran dry, gulping the cold water to calm his nerves. Was this true?

“I would like to visit Y/N,” Daphne announced and Anthony sputtered. He coughs to clear his throat. “Would you accompany me, Anthony?”

“I could not,” he lied. How would he react if he saw you unbothered? How would he react if he saw you again? “I have matters to attend to. Ask Benedict or Colin to take you instead,”

Anthony sat in his office doing nothing but nursing the tumultuous beating of his heart. Since when did I think of her like this? Why is she so beautiful? Would she still accept me despite our shared banter?

Later in the afternoon, Anthony found himself pacing in their garden. He was so tempted to go over to your garden but he knew that Daphne would be there with you. He looked at the gate that separated you to him. Oh, how he wanted nothing more than to have that demolished.

“You’re looking too pensive for my liking,” Violet Bridgerton says, looking at her first born with concern. “I hope you know that your siblings only like to tease,”

“I know but…what if they were right?” Anthony revealed. Violet’s eyebrows shot up. Sure, she noticed how different Anthony seemed to be these days but she never could have expected it to come from him so easily.

“If that’s how you feel, why not tell her?”

“She told me she has no wish to get married,” he says. He then told his mother about the ruse that you had with Alfred. How you both fooled everyone in London.

“Well, Benedict’s right all along,” Violet says. “But you’re both still so young, Anthony. You have so much time and I want you to spend this time on what makes you happy.”

“What if I fail?” he asked with a weak voice. Violet was reminded of Anthony as a child, when he used to voice his insecurities. There was something so beautiful about a child seeking his mother.

“At least you tried,” she said. “It would hurt more if you’re left all your life wondering what could have happened if you tried,”

The weeks that transpired after the social season could be described as irregular. You were thinking of better words to say but it was hard. Anthony was kinder and would purposely seek out your company on slower days. Over the course of a few weeks, Anthony had accompanied you to the theater. He spent time with you at the museum. He stayed at your house to share a meal with your family. The banter was there and it was still enjoyable but you couldn’t deny the fact that the new Anthony was way more favorable. You were now in the Bridgerton home after being invited by the siblings for a meal in the garden. The weather was amazing and Anthony had just installed beautiful lamps that illuminated the garden.

“I would like you to be my sister, Y/N,” Francesca announced after helping her choose a bow. She settled with a peach-colored bow that went beautifully with her hair. You chuckled, brushing off her comment.

“Are we not like sisters already?” you asked, tying the bow perfectly around a lock of hair.

“We are…but it would be better if you lived with us,” she said. “Or visited us more,”

“I’m sorry if you’ve been feeling neglected,” you told her honestly, your hand caressing her hair gently. “But now that the social season is over, we can see each other more.”

“You promise?” she asked.

“Of course. Daphne, Eloise, and you could all come visit me at home. We’ll have the night all to ourselves in my bedroom. I’ll prepare your favorite sweets and we can just talk the whole night. How does that sound?” you asked, your heart warming when Francesca beams at you.

“I’ll have to ask Anthony but I would love to!” she says. “I would have to go to Daphne and Eloise to tell them. Thank you for fixing my hair!”

You sat back on the couch afterwards, enjoying a moment of peace and quiet. You were thinking of all the preparations you might have to do when they do decide to visit. Your eyes darted to a sound and watched the Viscount sit down beside you. While he settled, you closed your eyes. The social season was tiring and it was hard to find rest sometimes.

“You haven’t been here for an hour. Why do I hear Fransesca talking to Daphne and Eloise about a possible visit?” he asked, closing his eyes to rest. He’s been cooped up in his study for hours to oversee the estate.

“She’s right. Maybe not soon, though,” you replied, voice soft. “I’m so tired.”

“Me too,” he says and no words were spoken. The noise outside the house was forgotten now. Your and his even breathing both lulled you to sleep and it was your mothers who found you and Anthony’s heads leaning on each other, just like you did when you were kids.

Anthony has been occupying all of the spaces inside your head recently. Sometimes, you were scared that your mind was projecting him because he’d always be there. You’d walk in the hallways and hear him laughing with you father. You’d be in town with your maid and he’s there, inviting you for gelato. You’d go home with a faint smile playing on your lips before reminding yourself that it was Anthony.

“Miss, the Viscount Bridgerton is here to see you,” your maid says. She took note of how you immediately smiled. “He’s been here…a lot,” she teased.

“We are friends, Mary. Of course, he’d be here,” you told her. “Besides, we grew up together,”

“Of course…but…”

“What?” you asked, fixing the tendrils of hair on your face. “Do I look alright?”

“Since when did you think about how you looked in front of Viscount Bridgerton?” she teased, laughing when your mouth was open agape. She had a point. “If it’s any consolation, you look amazing. I’m sure the Viscount would think you look amazing…if he doesn’t already,”

Confusing feelings that you nursed plagued you. Every now and then, you’d feel flustered when you felt his eyes on you. It was funny, really but what’s funnier was how everyone seemed to know but the two of you. Nothing escapes anyone, especially Lady Danbury who, along with the Bridgertons, visited your house for dinner.

You were all over the table, quiet as you heard murmurs from everyone. Your mother was talking to her friends while your father talked to Benedict and Colin about their travels. It seemed as though the only people who weren’t speaking were you and Anthony. You looked around the dining table, trying to listen in on all kinds of conversations when your eyes landed on the Viscount. He was already looking at you, a teasing smile on his face and you felt your cheeks warm. You looked away quickly, sipping on your lemonade, never noticing that his eyes were still glued on you.

“You both have to do something about those children of yours,” Lady Danbury commented, her eyebrow raised expectantly. “Do you think they’re fooling anyone at all? I’ve seen how they stole glances from one another. It was not subtle,”

“I know,” Violet agreed. “I’ve seen Anthony look at her. Really, all his siblings seem to know too,”

“Y/N is the same,” your mother added. “She’s always off to run with Anthony. Have you noticed?”

Meanwhile, you were all in the garden. Benedict and Eloise were huddled together in the swings while you were laying on the picnic blanket. You didn’t care if it seemed appropriate. They were the Bridgertons, they never minded. You were looking up at the stars when Anthony blocked the view. A mischievous idea pops inside your head and you extended your arm upwards.

“Anthony, will you help me up?”

Anthony takes your hand but before he helps you, you pulled him down, sending him flat on the space beside you.

“You’re dead!” he exclaims as you run away from him.

“Benedict, help me!” you called, as you increase your speed.

“Don’t you dare, brother,” Anthony threatens, running after you. His heart fills with warmth when he heard your boisterous laugh. You were so carefree and so joyful.

Your screams rang through the garden when Anthony’s arms wrap around your waist. You looked at him, laughing.

“You really shouldn’t be doing that,” he scolds, tickling your sides. “Stop squirming! That’s your punishment!” he laughed, tickling you more. Suddenly, you both stopped, noticing the close proximity between the two of you. Your faces were inches away from each other and you both looked away, coughing. Unknown to you two, his siblings were smiling in amusement.

“Eloise!” you called. “Didn’t you want me to help you with something? Let us go,”

Anthony could only watch while you scurry off with Eloise and his sisters somewhere.

“Scandalous, is it not, brother?” Colin teased which earned him a light shove from the Viscount. His siblings watched him follow you with amusement. Someone has to do something about the two of you.

“What was that?” Eloise asked you when you reached your bedroom.

“Was what?” you feigned innocence. Daphne was with the two of you, sitting on your bed with her eyebrow raised.

“Everybody saw that,” Daphne said. “You know, it’s no harm to tell us about how you feel towards Anthony. The attraction is so obvious!”

“I agree with Daphne,” Eloise added. “While I do think that marriage is a trap, I fully support you marrying into our family. You’re good to us and Daphne’s right. There’s attraction there,”

“Since when did you girls know about attraction?” you mused. “You lot are still young,”

“Seems like we’re less clueless than you are,” Francesca teased, making thr girls giggle.

“Anthony is agitating,” you relent. “He’s kind and playful,”

“What is it that you look for in a husband?” Daphne asked, playing with a dainty necklace that you gifted her before.

“Someone kind and well, I’d love it if it feels like we’ve known each other forever. Sometimes, you get that feeling, you know? Like you’ve known them for a lifetime and everything just falls into place.” you said. “Someone who understands…someone patient. I’d like to marry someone who can make me laugh. I’d like to have a big family and marry someone coming from one…oh, dear,” you muttered. You were describing Anthony Bridgerton.

“That sounds a lot like…”

“Anthony!” Daphne gasped, seeing the man on your doorway. “What are you doing here?”

“Mother is looking for you girls,” he says, looking expectantly at his sisters.

“Anthony, you always ruin the fun!” Eloise glared. “We were having girl talk, if you weren’t aware,”

“It’s alright, Eloise,” Daphne says. “Let us go and let them have a moment of privacy,”

Eloise could only scowl at Anthony while Daphne ushers her out. Anthony breathes a sigh of relief as he looks ar you for permission.

“May I?”

“Of course, Anthony.” you smiled. “Come in. Did you need anything?”

Anthont doesn’t answer. Instead, he locks the door behind him. You gape as he walked nearer, until you were face to face. You were close again and you could feel him.

“Is something the matter?” you asked softly. “Would you tell me?”

“I heard what you told my sisters,” he replied, his voice just as soft. “Is it true? That the man you’re looking for sounds exactly like me?”

“Anthony—“

“If you must know, I feel the same.” he said. “I’ve been putting these emotions away from me because you once said that you were in no rush to get married. I thought that if I waited for you long enough, then you’d want to be married to me but I cannot wait any longer. Did you know how miserable I was when I thought that you and Sir Alfred were courting? I set it off for you but I am a selfish man and I cannot wait any longer. So tell me, is it true?”

You felt your throat constrict when Anthony’s gaze drops on your lips. Should you kiss him right now to convey your emotions?

“It is,” you replied. “But I’ve been keeping my emotions at bay because I feel the same,”

Anthony beams.

“Say it,” he whispers. “Say what you feel.”

“I love you, Anthony,” you replied. Anthony takes your head and kisses you deeply. You felt every emotion there is; inching your face closer to the roughness of his calloused hand. He moves away slowly and lays you down on your bed; him crawling on top of you to attach his lips on yours again.

“I love you too,” he mumbles softly, kissing the soft skin under your ear. Anthony would’ve liked it better if he could hear the soft whimpers that came from you. He trails down to your neck, and then the hemline of your chest. “I love you…so much. Tell me you love me,”

“I love you,” you whine.

“If you let me, I’d still want to court you properly and formally. Will you let me?” he whispered.

“We’re way past courting if you’re kissing me like this,”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Never.”

(If you know who Alfred is based off of, comment to get a follow from me…u deserve it)

cc: @screechingdreamercollectorsblog @pink-lemo @lana-isabelle @evelyn3000 @simran1111 @marrilly @jemimah-b99 @goldeng1rl8 @lovely-him @wreckedsymphony @silvermistt @rexit-mo @chazubagi @freyathehuntress @flourishandblotts-inc @ @bellaiscool @rayodesol97 @munsonology @miyababbby @jesslexi1170

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton fanfic #fluff #oneshot #one shot #imagine

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lightwing-s · 10 months

Text

𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐲| 𝐣. 𝐭.

pairing: arkham knight!jason todd x female!reader warnings: angst, violence, domestic abuse word count: 2,4k summary: gotham pulls you down, jason pulls you harder. a/n: after reading the arkham knight comic i found myself obsessed and wrote this some time ago while in between finals. there will be a part 2, so wait for it soon ♡ ⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

A long time ago, someone I knew, someone I loved, told me something I would never forget: Gotham has powers over its people. Just like gravity, pulling you down, making it hard for you to leave.

At that point, I didn't understand. But as time went by, it all became clear.

I wanted to leave. And I tried to. So many damned times, almost on a daily basis. And yet, here I am. Still in this goddamn place.

But he also told me, on that same day, that although the gravity field was heavy, I could be stronger. That I was stronger. I could push it away, get out of here. What doesn’t kill you makes you a hell of a lot stronger, Y/n.

It all started on a Thursday night. I was given the day off on Friday, and like every reckless young adult, I had decided to spend my night getting drunk with my so-called friends at a bar, just around the corner of the street he once owned. Even if it’d been years, I could never not remember him everytime I walked by.

But that time, for the first time in forever, it didn’t cross my mind. I had missed it. I had… forgotten. It would be days later when the guilt started eating me up. How could I’ve forgotten him? How did I suddenly stop caring?

We were having fun, dancing around, chatting, and having drinks. Having many drinks. I must have drunk double my weight in alcohol, yet somehow still managed to stand on my two feet. My boyfriend, almost as drunk as me, hung out with his friends not paying me much attention. I guess he didn’t care that it was my birthday, but I guess even I forgot about that. It had been years since I last cared for it, nothing making much sense celebrating once he was gone.

I was looking for a toilet, stumbling my way around the crowded place while my bladder made it harder to walk around.

And that’s when I felt it. The eyes on me. Like an eagle’s fixed on its prey. A sniper aiming at it’s target. I never understood when books and movies talked about this feeling until I felt it myself. My hair stood on end, the air suddenly thickening around me, my heart beat gaining pace.

Something I could never, even in the wildest of my dreams, ever have imagined. I thought, maybe, I was making it all up, like some kind of drunken hallucination. Or that finally the terrors of Gotham had gone so up my head that I started seeing things. Things that weren’t real. Things that, at least, weren’t supposed to be.

Yet, there he was. Like a ghost. Clad in a red hoodie, staring straight at me through the dirty, fogged up glass window. The guy I thought I had seen the last of when I was still a just dumb teenager.

Even though he stood so far away from me, I could see his gloomy semblance. His tired eyes, still bright blue as I had always remembered. But once our eyes met, all that pain and melancholy went away, as his face softened, and his eyes held the same sparkle in them as years ago. It could never be someone else, I would recognize my Robin whenever and wherever I saw him.

“Jason?” I whispered to myself, or at least I thought I had as I would later be informed I had drawn many eyes to me at that moment. But I didn’t care. He was here. It was all that mattered.

I had forgotten everything. Everyone. I stormed out of that crowded bar and ran into the streets. Into his arms. Arms that embraced me, tightly, like I was the last good thing on this Earth. Like I was his own life, threatening to slip away at any moment. And for the first time in ages, I felt at home.

My boyfriend didn’t like the way I’d left that night. Well, my ex boyfriend. I couldn’t pull up with his shit anymore. Not with him being back.

After our embrace, Jason didn’t want to stay in the street for too long, at the time I didn’t know why, so I just went away with him. God knew where he was taking me, but I trusted him with my life like I always did. All I remember are the city lights flying past us, as we rushed through the streets hand in hand. His ever so sweet tone as we made our first stop under the lights of Old Wayne Tower. How he treated me, how he paid attention. His tender touch, his breath meeting mine, the scarred skin of his face as I caressed his cheek, and his soft lips against mine.

It was just me and him, the world getting blurry around us, reality and dreams blending together for a moment. And from then on, nothing else mattered. It was us against the world.

He took me home, or where I thought his home was then. He dragged me by the hand, swerving through the crowds, pushing through people, but never loosening his hold.

“I’m not gonna lose you again, Y/n.” he looked back to tell me, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, as I tried to fix his hold. His smile blinded me to everything else but him. He was all I could see. Nothing else.

He led me through an alley to an abandoned diner, and dragging me inside, he took me to a secret door. I must have been too dumbfounded, mind too foggy, still too drunk, as I don’t remember our way up to his room. I just remember standing there, in the almost emptiness of the dark room, filled only with a bed and a desk, a picture of us as teenagers sitting on top of it. I was feeling uneasy, but yet safe.

“I thought you were dead.” I told him, voice cracking and tears flooding my eyes. “I went to your memorial”

“I know… I know it must all be too confusing to you.” he said, holding my face in his large hands, thumbs wiping the tears that had dared to fall down my cheeks. “You will understand. Soon. I just can’t explain it right now.”

Resting his forehead on mine, he took a moment to breathe. Breathe in my scent, breathe in the quiet. His eyes were closed, but when he opened them they bore deep into mine, not giving me a single chance to look away. Not that I would, no. I was already trapped in his gravity field, pushing me down, trapping me deeper, harder than I would imagine.

“Do you trust me, Yn?” he asked, voice nothing more than a whisper. I could not reply, I didn’t know why. “Do I scare you? With my scars. With how I returned?”

All I did was shake my head no. I wasn’t scared. I would never be scared of Jason Todd. My Robin, my whole world, my safety net ready to catch me whenever I fall. And how I had fallen, so many times. And I had fallen again.

“Good girl.” he said, leaning down once more to give me a kiss on the nose. “Good, good girl. I knew you would never forget about me, because I never forgot about you.”

I was fifteen when I met Jason. Sad and lonely, walking down the streets of Gotham like there was nothing better in the world for me to do. And at that time, I really didn’t.

It was getting darker, the sun lowering down on the horizon. The loud music blasting in my ears, probably some angst pop punk tunes I was into back then, and still secretly listen to till this day, distracting me from my surroundings, making me feel like the only one in the world, when a loud scream took me off my dreamland.

“Didn’t you hear a thing?” asked this tall and dark haired boy. Removing one of my earplugs, and without any words, my confused eyes asked him 'what'. “That guy over there,” he pointed behind his back to a shadow taking the corner onto the next street. “… he was trying to rob you.”

I remember turning back swiftly, causing a sting of pain on my neck, and finding my backpack slightly open. Checking it out, I found nothing was missing and thanked him for the warning.

“You go down here every day, right? I’ve noticed you walking past here for a while. Always around the same time.”

“I live just a few minutes down.” I told him, not noticing the little hint at an obsession in his tone.

“Can I walk you home?” he offered, cheeks slightly tainted red. “It’s a bit dangerous around here at this time.”

“Won’t it be dangerous for you too?” I questioned innocently. Oh, silly me.

“I can handle myself around here.”

From then on, he walked me home every night. He also walked me to school, and also spent every free time we had walking aimlessly around the neighbourhood, pretending our lives were great for those few couple hours we had together.

He became my shield from the world. My best friend. My white knight. He took my mind away from my family and how shitty they were. With him I was happy for a few moments, until he dropped me two houses from mine, so no one would see us, so my dad wouldn’t get mad, and I had to return to the rash, sad reality that was my daily life.

One morning, Jason came to pick me up, but instead of finding me at our regular spot, he found me at my door, wearing the same clothes as the day before, laying my head on my backpack, trying to shield the cold away with a single denim jacket and failing miserably as my body shivered intensely. On my lip, a deep cut, and a soft purple mark decorated my left eye.

“Y/n?” He shook my body, waking me up tenderly. “What did he do?”

His voice was the complete opposite of his touch, though, covered in anger. He knew who had done that, he didn’t know why, but knew it wasn’t enough reason. There was never enough reason. He knew the culprit and he’d make him regret it. As much as I tried to, I couldn’t stop him, a pattern I would later find out would repeat itself countless times. He was too strong for me to push him away.

He aggressively knocked on my door, pushed my mom out of the way once she opened it, and searched the house for my father, the one person I hated the most in my life, and whom he hated just as much. He found him in his office, hitting the door closed behind him. Me and my mother didn’t know what to do. We just stood and waited, as we heard screams and the sound of things breaking inside the room. Her bruised hands holding firmly onto mine.

When the door reopened a few moments later, all I could see was Jason’s sore knuckles as he rushed out the house, pulling me by the wrist with. I didn’t know then, or perhaps I did, but that was the moment I fell in love with Jason Todd.

I wouldn’t see my dad till weeks later, when he returned home from the hospital. And that was also the last time I saw him, as he kicked me out for “hanging around with the wrong people”. My mom was devastated, but I didn't care. I was finally free.

A family friend took me in, and Jason continued to walk me home and everywhere else. He would visit me every night. We would often share my bed, as we quietly and secretly, made our love physical, real. As we made us into our reality. Up until he went away.

The first time Jason was taken from me had me broken into little pieces. I thought it would take long till I saw him again, but soon I received a letter from a police officer.

In it, he told me he was put into a new school as part of this new troubled kids program. For several months, I read him raving about his new school, the new opportunities, and how he finally had a chance at a brighter future.

I was happy for him, truly. But I couldn’t help the small knot forming in my throat from both jealousy and from just how much I missed him.

Until one day, he knocked on my door, ready to take me to school as we did before, just this time not on foot.

Getting used to Jason as a multi millionaire’s ward wasn’t easy, and I could sense him drifting away with each passing day. He wasn’t the same Jason I knew, even though he hadn’t changed even a bit with me. He just had a new life. A double one I came to know of one night when he climbed up my window.

His visits became regular, and as much as I felt Jason slipping away, Robin was still mine.

And then he was taken from me again. That time, for good. And I was never the same.

All those years, Gotham’s gravity field kept pulling me further and further down, as much as I tried to escape it. Jason’s words echoed in my head, but I knew I couldn’t be strong enough to break away. So I stayed in this city, working low paying jobs, getting around with the wrong kind of people. Trying to make my way through this tumultuous situation that never seemed to get better.

But now, laying naked in Jason’s room, covered only by the thin cotton sheets of his bed, feeling sore and exhausted, feeling cared for and complete, a whole new sense of belonging, of excitement and hope filled me to the brim. I felt unstoppable beside him, like everything would finally settle into place, allowing me to quit this gravity field for good.

Gotham’s gravity is strong, but Jason’s is a lot stronger. And I would learn it the hard way.

taglist: @igotanidea

#trying things out with a smaller font #tell me if you like this or the normal one better #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #arkham knight #arkham knight imagine #arkham knight x reader #jason todd angst #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd scenarios #jason todd fanfiction

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maochira · 1 year

Text

"Now we're throwing paper planes into the sky, knowing they will crash and burn."

Tags: middle sibling Itoshi!gn!reader, angst, hurt no comfort, listen to this song while reading for the extra pain❤️, all characters are in their early-mid 20s, reader isn't a soccer player

I recommend reading part 1 and part 2 first

Requests open. Itoshi sibling masterlist and regular masterlist

It's something they should have noticed earlier. Really, way earlier.

And when the reality hit them, they knew it was their fault.

All of you have moved out of your parents' home by now. You were the last one to do so, that was two years ago. You can count on one hand how many times you've seen your brothers in this time, while you can't even count the times you thought of your brothers and missed them, the times you've attempted to reach out, and the times they've ignored you.

Whenever you met them, it was either all about soccer or you would get treated as if you were still a young teenager. Even by Rin. Rin, who is a year younger than you. And Sae, who treated Rin appropriately for his age, but treated you so differently.

You even tried addressing your problems to them, but they'd either ignore you or talked you down in the "We're your brothers, we know what's best for you"-way.

Their behaviour, and the way they treated, ignored and abandoned you, but especially their ignorance, all of those things are what made you realize you should stop reaching out to them, for the sake of your own mental health. And as much as it hurt you, it's exactly what you did. It was painful, but it would be worth sparing you the ongoing pain of being ignored or treated like a teenager all the time.

As time passed on, you found joy in other things in life, making you forget about your brothers most of the time. But when you did think about them, you would always hopelessly wonder if they will ever notice the way they treated you was wrong.

And then, they did realize.

It was Sae's birthday party. He had invited you, but not Rin, due to their still ongoing rivalry. But when you didn't come, Sae started texting and calling you over and over. But you ignored all the calls and texts. Until you've had enough and straight up blocked him.

Something about this flipped a switch in Sae's brain. As he saw his chat history with you on his phone, he saw all the messages he left unanswered. It made his mind travel to the last few times he met you and how annoyed you were at some of the things he said towards you.

And then he remembered that one time you tried telling him how uncomfortable you were with the way he treated you.

At his realization, he called Rin, which he usually never did. Even in their early adulthood, their rivalry was still going on. But this was so important, he just had to talk to Rin about it.

Rin was confused why Sae would call him, but picked up anyways. When he heard Sae's reason for calling him, his heart almost dropped.

Because it was Sae's birthday party, they didn't get to talk for long. But they did on the next day. But Sae didn't get to properly enjoy the party anyways.

The next day, Sae and Rin had a long phone call in the afternoon, only talking about you. They don't remember ever having a conversation as serious as this one.

And the realization of how wrongly they treated you is painful for both of them. They might still have their rivalry going on, but you're their sibling, and they want to fix what they've caused.

But you're unresponsive to all their calls and messages.

Did they really lose you?

#bllk #blue lock #blue lock irn #blue lock sae #sae itoshi #itoshi sae #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x reader #rin itoshi #itoshi rin #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock scenarios #bllk scenarios

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lestappenforever · 23 days

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My ask is maybe a bit silly, and would probably go in 'sanity check' category. It is about Max, and how he is perceived. If I understand correctly, it is said he is mad max, bad guy, aggressive… and similar. Now, I know teenagers are sometimes a bit crazy, and from what I read he was actually very badly treated by freaking adults, fellow drivers, when he first joined F1, so maybe then he was a bit aggressive, and it would be even understandable… but still it is difficult to even imagine that. Because Max I see (I am only following racing since last year) is nice, soft, funny, polite guy, still more looking like an innocent kid than an adult, even appearing naïve (unlike the sweet, adorable devil that is Charles!), and obviously so nice towards rookies (Oliver and Liam-who himself said it). So am I delusional and see what is not there or for some reason he is so vilified (I guess most coming probably from jealousy and Netflix crap…). Oh and one additional observation, he always looks so much softer and somehow cuddlier and cuter on photos from his streaming at home… What do you think? One final observation, then I will shut up  Sometimes it seems to me that all the Lestappen moments and specila connection maybe come from the fact that when Charles came to F1 Max finally had kinda his person there. Because he went form father abuse to fellow drivers abuse, but when Charles came to F1, he had someone he could have a real relationship with, even if they fought and were a bit sulky almost teenagers still in the beginning, they got over it as they grow up. But Charles is his genuinely healthy, good, fun, friendly relationship. Having spent time as kids growing up of course also deepens the bond and friendship, but also mutual respect and understanding each other’s qualities. I don’t know if explained it well enough… P.S. I LOVE your fics!!!!

Hi anon, and thank you so much for this ask! I don't think it's a silly ask at all.

All these "Mad Max", being too aggressive, being mean claims etc. stem from two things:

1. When Max made it into F1 almost 10(!) years ago, he was 17(!!) years old. He was a kid — a literal child. And he was a cocky, arrogant little shit at that, as any kid would be making their debut in such a prestigious sport at such a young age.

2. Max haters who will hate him forever, no matter what, no matter why. They don't even need a reason; they're just determined to hate him and will do so forever.

But the thing is, and his haters especially seem to love to ignore this fact, Max was seventeen years old when he made his F1 debut. He was, for all intents and purposes, a child. I watched Max make his F1 debut, and I watched and read the way he was viewed and the reception he received from his fellow drivers, the media, and fans alike. And I watched these grown-ass men already on the grid when Max joined welcome him by treating him like shit. These adults were so threatened by this kid who came into the sport without having to go through the same ranks almost every other F1 driver has to go through to get there, such as several years in F3 and F2 (Max only spent a year in F3 and skipped F2 altogether), that they did virtually nothing to make him feel welcome. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was so fucking sad and infuriating, and I lost a lot of respect for many drivers because of it. And if I'm being honest, anon, that's what made me decide Max would be my favorite driver. I can be incredibly spiteful when I want to be, and watching Max get slammed and slandered from so many directions from the very beginning made me want to be very spiteful. That's what made me decide that I was going to support that kid like hell. And I haven’t looked back or regretted it since.

I cannot stress this enough, and I know I've said it so many times before already, but: Max Verstappen was a child when he made it into the world of F1. But he's not a child anymore, which a concerning amount of people seem to be blissfully and willfully ignorant to. Max has grown and matured so much in the years he's been in F1. And, like most other people, Max Verstappen the adult is not the same person as Max Verstappen the teenager, or Max Verstappen the child. And he hasn’t been anything like his 17-year old self in a long, long time. But this, of course, is something his haters will never accept or acknowledge.

I truly believe, from the very bottom of my heart, that Max is always so nice and welcoming towards rookies, always willing to lend a hand or giving them advice, always going out of his way to praise and support them, because practically no one ever did that for him when he was a rookie. And that speaks volumes about his character and the kind of man he has grown into since making his debut.

You're not delusional at all, anon, and having only followed F1 since last year means it's not surprising that you don't see the very outdated and frankly incredibly incorrect persona the people who dislike Max will always keep trying to convince themselves and others is still him. Because it isn’t — not even close. Practically every single person who has worked with or been around Max in the past few years all say the same thing: that he's funny, easy-going, and one of the genuinely kindest people on the grid. And that means a hell of a lot more than the opinions of people who have never and will never know him, and have made it their personal, sad mission to hate him. So you keep holding on to the impression you have of him, anon, because that is a far more accurate representation than the image some people are so hellbent of painting of him. (He’s definitely not naïve, though, not even close.)

And I absolutely agree: he looks even softer and cuddlier when he's streaming at home! I love streamer!Max so much.

"When Charles came to F1 Max finally had kinda his person there". <- You are spot on with this, anon! I've talked about the special bond I think these two share in the past, like in this post, and so have many others. (@tsarinablogs @valyrfia @thearchercore to name a few - highly recommend checking out their blogs if you haven’t already!) It truly seems like they have never, and will never, see any other driver as a big a rival as the other, and the numerous accounts of their karting days from people who got to watch them battle first-hand from such a young age definitely backs up that claim. And I think that's so beautiful, and it's one of the many, many reasons why these two are so dear to me, and why other F1 ships will never be able to come close.

P.S. That makes me so happy to hear, anon, thank you so, so much. 🥹❤️

#Asks #Anon asks #Lestappen asks #Max Verstappen

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starlightnorris · 9 months

Text

unanswered questions - charles leclerc

synopsis: the one where you run into your first love and there's a ton of unanswered question and a whole lot of feelings there.

word count: 1k

read part two

they say you never truly get over your first love. you believed them for a while, the first year or so after charles broke up with you, you were a mess. everything reminded you of him, from the places you used to go together, to the simplicity of seeing a car on the street. and it shouldn’t have hurt so bad, you were just teenagers, young love is always bound to crash and burn, but that first year was brutal.

but eventually you got over it. you moved to new york city to go to university, at some point meeting the person you wanted to spend your life with. it was funny, just how quickly your perception of everything changed. one day, it was you and charles together, only teenagers, but making small comments about the future. and you had believed that the two of you would end up together, but people change, plans change, and eventually, you move on.

there wasn’t a moment that you could identify that “ruined” your relationship with charles. it was just two people moving on from something that was once so real. it was weird to think about it now, you were 25 and that was nearly a decade ago. but there was always that nagging thought in the back of your mind that kept saying that if it could happen with charles, it could happen with justin. there didn’t have to be a big moment, one day he would just come to you and say that he didn’t feel the same anymore.

justin was lovely. talking about the future with him genuinely made you excited, but there was still a part of you that wondered what charles was like now. sure, you saw him on tv, and you still kept up with races, something your boyfriend took notice in. but he just thought you loved formula one, he didn’t know about the Ferrari driver who had once held your heart in his hands. but you didn’t know the charles of today. he seemed different, but he also seemed like the same boy you were in love with all those years ago. but that didn’t matter now, you’d moved on, even if your heart still yearned to know him.

---

“i think we should go out tonight,” justin says one day. it’s a friday, the two of you are already off work, both having left earlier than normal. “there’s a new restaurant i’ve been wanting to try.”

“yeah, that would be great,” you say, a soft smile on your face as he walks over to press a kiss to your forehead before the two of you start to get ready for the night.

you’re walking hand in hand down the street, a slight breeze in the air as you take in the area around you. moving from monaco to new york city was a big difference for you, being a place that was so small to a city that was constantly filled with so many people. but you loved it here, you loved to anonymity of being in the big city. monte carlo was too small, and when you were dating charles, people took notice of the two of you as it was becoming more clear that he was fully on his way to formula one.

but you didn’t want to think about that today. you were here with justin and as if he could hear your thoughts, he looks down at you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he looks at you. you could get lost in that smile and the way his gaze is so soft as he looks at you, so much love and adoration in the look. and it only takes you running into someone to take your eyes away from him.

justin makes sure to steady you and you mutter a “shit, i’m so sorry,” before looking up to see who you ran into. and you know that moment in the romance movies where two people look at each other and everything around them stops.

that’s exactly what happened when you saw charles in front of you. everything around you seemed to stop. you were in new york city, a place that was constantly busy and alive, and all you could do was stare at the man in front of you. you’d imagined what he’d look like if you saw him up close again, were there any marks on his skin that you couldn’t see through a screen? were his eyes soft in the same way that they were when you were teenagers?

“holy shit, you’re charles leclerc,” you hear justin say from beside you, but your eyes still rest on charles, and you can tell from the look on his face that he knows exactly who you are. it takes him a moment to tear his eyes from you before they move to your boyfriend and then down to where the two of you are holding hands and you catch a flicker of something… regret, maybe? but no, he broke up with you. he had full control in that situation, he doesn’t deserve to have any regrets.

“uh, yeah,” charles mutters, his eyes snapping back up to your boyfriend. “yeah, i am.”

they chat for a moment, but you don’t hear a single word, especially when his eyes keep moving to where you are standing, a lifetime of questions swirling in his eyes. “it was nice to meet you both,” charles says after a bit, and his eyes linger on you for a moment too long, and you want him to say something. you want to take the time to talk about almost a decade of distance between you, but he gives you a small smile, continuing to walk in the direction that he was heading.

“that was so cool,” justin says, a starstruck look on his face as he looks back at you. “i can’t believe we just ran into him.”

“yeah,” you say, but your heart’s not in it. instead, you’re thinking about years of unanswered questions with charles. you’re thinking about all the things you never got to say, and you’re thinking about why the hell your heart is beating so fast for a man you don’t even really know.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 #formula one #f1 imagine

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santacoppelia · 4 months

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Of fandom, age, and David Tennant being our own personal Time Lord

I read the fantastic post that @davidtennantgenderenvy wrote about David Tennant and aging (if you haven’t yet read it, go for it!) and, as a fan who is closer to DT's age range than to what seems to be the rest of the fan base's age (yeah, being well over 40 is A THING), I had an interesting mix of ideas and emotions. I was going to just reblog her post with some of these musings, but when this started getting longer (and I started searching for bibliography, ha), I decided that I was not going to hijack her post, but rather cite it (and reblog it on its own right, really, read it). I should say that this is a long essay, and it comes peppered with references to one of my preferred fields of study (but I make it light and fun, promise).

Becoming an “old geek”

The first time I came into the idea was when I found a thirst TikTok with that very nice audio that goes “I think I need someone older…” and clearly, the thirst was there, but also… David is 8 years older than me, and when you are 45, thirsting over someone who is 53 doesn’t feel as “edgy” (and thinking about “needing someone older” starts verging on thirsting over people well over 65, which is absolutely fine, but a very different category over all for the rest of TikTok). So yeah, it was weird. You see someone who you feel is "in your range" and everyone is calling them "old"… And you start thinking about aging, inevitably.

Of course, I "don't feel old", but most of my friends are younger than me, and I'm the oldest person in many of my "fun activities". Take, for example, my lightsaber combat team, where every sponsorship is pitched to people under 30, and you should be training at least twice a week and following a strict diet to reach the expected “competitive or exhibition” level (enter the “old lady” who is taking this training just for fun, who needs to take care of her joints and who is not going to be invested in becoming Jedi Master General or anything of the sorts in the near future). Or we can talk about the expectation about fandom in general being a “teenage phase”, and thinking about everyone who still is into it actively after certain age as “immature” or “quirky” at best (hi, mom! Hi, work colleagues! Hi, students!).

Society, aging and social constructs

Of course, this has a lot to do with societal expectations. For almost 80 years, popular culture has been built around "youth" and "young people": before rock & roll, most things (music, clothes, movies, art in general) were targeted to “adults”, and you were expected to be “a functional adult” since a younger age. There was a seismic shift in the way popular culture was built when consumer culture decided to see and cater young people: trends became shorter, being “hip” was desirable, staying younger for a longer period was a nice aspiration (a good, light reading to get a deeper view around this is “Hit Makers” by Derek Thompson. It is written for marketers, but that makes it an easy historic overview and I like that). This has a lot to do with the change of our view about old people, too: while being old 100 years ago (yup, 1924 still fits the bill) made you “a respected elder” and you were expected to be wise, to know best, to be the voice of reason and an expert, nowadays not even us older people like being seen as “old” or “older”.

Frequently, culture becomes entrenched in binary oppositions. The binary opposition between “young” and “old” is… well, old! And while the opposition is sustained, the meanings around it change over time (that’s what the past paragraph was about, really). If in the 1940’s being old meant “mature, respectable, wise, responsible” and being young meant “inexperienced, immature, foolish”, after the 1950’s those meanings shifted a lot: being young became “fun, interesting, in the now and in the know, attractive”, while being old was about being “boring, dusty, passé, uninteresting, dull”.

In reality, being young can be a mix of all of these things (inexperienced and fun and foolish and attractive), and being old can be, at the same time, being responsible and wise and a little dusty and dull, because that’s life *shrugs*, and the wonder of lived experience is that, even if we simplify it, it is complex and rich and sometimes contradictory in itself: we can be old and foolish and interesting and boring, or young and dull and inexperienced and attractive. But, as we need to make “social sense” of things, simplifying them is… easier. That’s why we build stereotypes, and why we use them! We need to have a “base” of signifiers to build upon, so we usually take what we have on our environment and run with it. If you find this idea interesting, welcome to the world of cultural semiotics! *takes her Iuri Lotman picture out of her pocket and puts it on the desk*

(Iuri Lotman, people. He is my "patron saint").

Pop culture versus “real culture”

Another cultural opposition that piques my interest in this area is the notion of “pop culture”, of course. It is opposed to “real, serious culture”, the sort of thing that everyone expects "older, mature people" to enjoy. In the sixties and seventies, there were a lot of studies and writing about "high brow" and "low brow" culture, trying to keep this distinction between "things that make you familiar with the now, but have no intrinsic value" and "eternal things that cultivate your mind, soul and spirit".

Evidently, if you ask me, this is a whole load of horse manure: probably useful to fertilize other things, but with little intrinsic value on its own. My main point is not dolphins, but the idea of culture: historically, it has used to mean a lot of things; from the notion of (exactly) fertilizing something and making it grow to make it come to fruition, to the hodgepodge of practices that a social group creates when they are together and are trying to make common sense of things.

I like the latter better (that is the one I’d ascribe to if this was The Academia TM, but this is tumblr!), but another popular definition, which comes from the Illustration and has been quite prevalent, is the notion of culture as the set of cultural practices that make you a better, more intelligent, far more educated person. For example: if you want to have real culture, you have to read Shakespeare and know what a iambic pentameter is, rather than watching “10 Things I Hate About You”. You must read real books, not listen to audiobooks, and “real books” should be written by “serious authors” like (insert old white Western European or American cis men, preferably born before 1960).

Here comes the notion of “cultural canon”, grinning widely. Yup, that set of practices becomes an expectation of what and how you should experience any area of the human experience, and they become a sort of “nucleus” of the whole experience, with people playing “defense” around them and culture shifting all around and sometimes across them. This is not exclusive to “high culture”: Have you ever heard about “gatekeeping”? Yeah, same fenomenomenon (Shadwell, of course). Whenever something gets this “shape”, it becomes a “norm”, the “common” thing, the “rule” if you participate in that set of cultural practices.

As every cultural set of practices tends to generate its own “canon”, they also have a lot of practices surrounding it, which are ever changing, shifting, learning from new and old practices, and redefining what everything means in their common/shared space. For example: Neil Gaiman, my beloved, was part of the “comics” frontier when Sandman first appeared, but as he and Alan Moore (yeah, I know he did it first, but Gaiman is my study focus right now, so let me be) and other very talented and interesting people started creating fascinating stuff that hadn’t been done, and they found people who loved it, they not only redefined the world of comics, but became part of the new canon themselves. And then, Neil’s presence in the world of literature and fantasy became widespread and recognized and then revered… And then he is doing it again by adapting his own work to a streaming platform in a serialized way… I hope this explains why I’m growing an obsession with studying Neil Gaiman as an author who crosses through different media: a transmedial auteur, an anomaly in his own right. But that is not an essay for tumblr, but a thesis, one that I don’t know if I’d ever have the time or mental resources to write (being a runaway ex academic with ADHD who works on their own is hard, people). Besides, this was about aging and David Tennant, so let’s cut this tangent short and start talking about our Time Lord and Savior: David Tennant, the king of frontiers.

David Tennant as a Frontier Lord

David Tennant is another fascinating case in this sense, mostly because he is an actor who has been able to build a whole very impressive career through crossing symbolic frontiers. Through his massive filmography (161 roles just for screens, as registered in IMDb) and his stage career (I love this gifset for this exact reason), he has acted his way through almost everything, from classical Shakespeare to improvisational comedy, from procedural police drama to wacky fantasy sci-fi. This has a lot to do with his personality (he loves acting, he decided to pursue acting as a career thanks to his love for Doctor Who, but he is also smart and inquisitive) but, as it happens with a lot of “frontier figures”, it also has a lot to do with “unpredictable” circumstances: less of a strategy, more of an instinct.

David has talked many times about how his impostor syndrome made him feel, for the longest time, that he had to keep accepting roles, because you never know if there is going to be another one after. He is talented and open and curious (this is quite a good interview about his perspective), but this… anxiety? meant that he had also lower quandaries about saying “yes” to roles and projects that were “less consistent” with a typecast (which has been, for the longest time, one of the main strategies to build an acting career). Yeah, he has some defining characteristics that make a role “tennantish” (I’m not starting that tirade here, but yeah, you know that almost fixed set of quirks and bits), but he has also worked his way through many different genres, budgets, styles and complexities. And he has usually been as committed and as professional in a big budget-high stakes-great script sort of situation, as he has been in a highly chaotic-let’s see what sticks-small scale project.

That can be correlated by the way he talks about “acting advice”. “Be on time, learn your lines, treat everyone the same, never skip the lunch queue”… Acting is a job, and he treats it as such. Yeah, he looks for interesting projects anytime he can, but the “down to earth” attitude about it is, once again, not-usual, not-common: pure frontier. Then, when David talks about his own self (specially at a young age), he is pretty clear about his “outsider” or “uncool” status (this interview is fantastic), and how strangely disruptive it was to become not only recognizable, but cool and sexy and… everything else, thanks to Doctor Who. He went from living in the frontier to being put in the canon, but he is still, at heart, a person who is more comfortable not defining himself by that “expected” set of rules.

Him being a very private person, who insists on having a family life that seems, form this distance, stable, loving and absolutely un-showbiz just makes the deal (and the parasocial love and respect) easier to sustain; as does his openness to talk about social and political issues that interest him (passionately, again; against the norm for “well liked celebrity”, again). His colleagues also talk wonders about him, mostly because he is this sort of down-to-earth but also passionate about his craft and easy to work with. Again: not the “norm”, not the “rule” of being such a celebrity.

Many of his fans (should I say that I’m one? Or is it obvious at this point?) find this not only endearing, but comforting: he is a massive star, who has acted in a lot of terrific roles in huge productions… But he feels, at heart, as “one of us”. But he is, also, a well-respected thespian, a Shakespearian powerhouse, an international talent. He lives in a very authentic, but very unstereotipical frontier. And he seems happy about that and has made a career from it. Extensive kudos and all the parasocial love and the amateur-actress mad respect for that.

I should mention, just in passing, that a “natural” archetype for this characters that traverse frontiers… are tricksters. Think again about the “tennantish” characteristics. Here goes another essay I’m not writing right now.

Aging: The Next Frontier

This takes me to the original post that inspired the essay: living in a culture where the “norm” is “being young and famous is a desirable aspiration”, we have a fantastic actor, at peak of his craft, who is in the heart of middle age (past 50, nearing 55). Not only that, but he is an actor with whom at least a couple of generations have grown older: from the ones who feel him as “our contemporary” to the ones who grew up looking at him (like Ncuti Gatwa!).

David, being the frontier person he is, has been navigating this transition in a very “unconventional” way: he came back to the role that made him iconic (The Doctor, now with more trauma!), is starring in another fantasy series about middle-aged looking ethereal beings that at times is an adventure thriller, at times is a comedy of errors and at times is a romcom (having another beautiful trickster of a man as his co-star… There goes another tangent that is an essay); he is playing one of the quintessential Shakespeare roles for middle-aged men (Macbeth), and is, seemingly, having a lot of fun doing a lot of voice acting for animation roles (if you haven’t watched Duck Tales, you’re missing a whole lot of fun, really).

Traditionally, middle aged actors navigate that period of their career trying to reinforce their “still young, thus a celebrity” status (for example, doing a lot of action-packed movies and keep doing their own stunts while seducing women 20-30 years younger than them), or strengthening their “prestige thespian, so now a real culture person” position (fighting for more serious roles, going from comedy to drama, or working their way into The Classics©). Sometimes, they face the internalized societal expectation by also becoming a shipwreck in their personal life (yeah… the stereotype of “getting divorced, having an affair with someone half their age, getting another red convertible, getting in trouble…”) because we don’t have a good “map for aging responsibly” yet as a society. We have been so focused on youth, that we have forgotten how to age.

Again, switching to the personal experience. I was raised as a female-shaped person (yeah, being queer is fun), so part of the experience of growing (and then growing old) has been closely related with that concept from the female point of view. I decided, pretty early on (but not so much, probably 25 years ago), that I wasn’t going to conform to the norm… And that included aging naturally. When I found my first white hair, it was a shock (I was 21 or 22), but I had already seen my father fighting his own hair being white since forever. I decided it was a loss of time, money and effort… And the judgement from people in my generation and in the one that preceded me (my mother, my aunts) was stern and strict: “it will age you, and it will date us. You shouldn’t do that”. Men could do it, given the right age (being over 50) but women must not. Same with wrinkles and sagging and gaining weight and getting “pudgy”. But when men grew older, they needed to make a “show off” of their ability to seduce, to “still be a man”. Aging, then, was undesirable by any standard.

As me and my peers have grown older, and my hair has gotten increasingly silver, there have been women that come to me saying that “I look great” and “they wish they were as brave as me”. I would like to state in front of this jury of my peers (hi, tumblr!) that the only bravery it took was deciding, somewhere between my twenties and my thirties, that I wanted to be as myself as I possibly could, so no bravery at all, just the same lack of understanding of social rules that took me to become interested in… you guessed it, cultural semiotics. We’ve come full circle with this. Now, let’s finish talking about what it means for an aging fan to have an aging star to look up to, shall we?

David Tennant as a cultural Time Lord

I am pretty sure that he wouldn’t have chosen this role for himself (as he wouldn’t have chosen being a massive star just by playing his favorite character and being so talented and charming), but he is, as Loki would say, burdened by glorious purpose. Being “the actor of his generation”, and him crossing so many frontiers with such ease and grace, without even thinking about it too hard, just because he is a hard worker and likes to try new things and is just so good at what he does put him in the exact cultural crossroad for it.

He is not in a sudden need to “resignify himself” as anything: he has already shown his very flexible acting muscles through his very long career. He is not bounded to “keep his public image relevant”: he likes to have his personal life clearly separated from the spotlight, and being married to the brilliant and funny Georgia, who herself grew up with a famous father, so she is no stranger to staying sane and in control in the eye of media, and who manages their social media presence with a good mix of humor and well-set boundaries.

Therefore, he is in a moment where he can (and probably will) chose to do whatever he likes. And he has the public support to do so: he is prestigious and respected, but likes to make fun of himself and is not self-important; he has a lot of awards, but he is also a very likable person with whom most people in the industry enjoy working. And he is up to do a lot of things: heroes, villains, morally grey characters; romance, drama, thriller, fantasy, sci-fi, procedurals, historical fiction, classic plays, silly parts, voice acting… We are going to see him aging on screen and stage, with no playbook: the playbooks were written for people that certainly are not him. And I have some evidence to prove it.

He is starring in a groundbreaking series (yeah, Good Omens) where the protagonists are two middle-aged looking entities, full of queer relationships, written by another trickster. This series, in an on itself, is a showcase for characters that are rule breaking in many ways: in the narrative, by being hereditary enemies who are inevitably linked to one another by a loving bond that may or may not be romantic, but that has been in the making for 6,000 years; in representation, by having the protagonists being represented by a couple of middle aged actors who are “not serious” and “not action” coded, in a role where they are delivering romance, banter, intrigue, joy and a whole other range of emotions that are “not your stereotypical” middle-aged male-lead coded.

He also delivered the baton on a relay race with Doctor Who: he came back after almost 20 years, to bring back the generation who grew up watching him in the role, and deliver us into the arms of Ncuti Gatwa’s 15th Doctor, with the promise of taking a rest and working on getting better from all the trauma The Doctor has endured in 20 years Earth-time (which, as any Doctor Who fan knows, account for centuries of trauma in Doctor’s time). Not your usual Doctor Who Anniversary cameo, but one built to deliver some zeitgeisty emotional health promises that made the specials feel… healing. At least, for some of us.

Even when it wasn’t the hit series it deserved to be, his Phileas Fogg in “Around the World in 80 Days” is also a great delivery of an unconventional middle-aged protagonist, who goes from meek and scared and too worried about societal norms, to a lovely, tender, slightly awkward and daring person, with friends half his age who look at him but are also his peers (another kind of relationship that is not very frequent in media).

And, with all fearlessness, he has played a lively old duck in Duck Tales! Scrooge McDuck has never been a middle-aged character: he is, quite openly, an old gentleman. An adventurer, quirky, with a lot of spunk… but also quite clearly an elder to Huey, Dewey and Louie, and obviously older than Donald Duck (who is also not a young adult himself!). When you watch that series, and if you have the opportunity to catch any glimpse of him behind the scenes while recording the part, you can feel the joy he got from playing the part (and he has said time and again that he IS Scrooge McDuck, so it will become his “recurring bit” for the future).

Hopefully, David (and some other actors and actresses, for sure) will dare to build that new “aging publicly without making an arse of myself” playbook, and I (and I can imagine, many other fans in our middle age, but also fans that are right now leaving behind the “young adult” stage and becoming “adults” fair and square, and others who will arrive to this place at a future time in their lives, so I hope) will be there to bear witness, support, cheer… and learn from the model. Because that’s what fandom is about, but also because that’s how culture itself gets shaped and changes, continuously. And that is exciting and a little scary, and that’s why it is better if we do this together.

And I'd love to imagine diverse (in the full sense of the word) role models for this process and this playbook, too!!!

If you read all the way through this, I'm very grateful, take a cookie, have a gold star and suggest names for our aging interestingly role models on the "non-white-male" side of things!

Class dismissed!!

#david tennant #aging #aging gracefully (or not)#long essay #long post #cultural studies #cultural semiotics #I need someone to pay me for writing this sort of stuff really #when I said I was writing again I meant it #this was 6 pages long in Word #and it includes references #look at my (written) child #the doctorate in cultural studies would never #neil gaiman

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stesierra · 9 months

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Writeblr ReIntro!

I'm posting a new intro because now that I've been on Writeblr a little while, I realize how much information I left out! Hi, I'm Stephanie, I live in the desert with my husband and baby and three cats, and I'm an ace, bipolar fantasy writer! When I was a kid, they said I had ADHD but then I got my Masters degree in biology, so they claim I can't have it. Online tests say I'm probably autistic.

I used to write sci fi twelve years ago but only low tech sci fi about weird aliens, which nobody likes. Now I write fantasy novels! Lots of fantasy novels! I am beginning to post them on my website so if you want to read them, please keep an eye on this post.

My books often but not always have some romance (either m/f or f/f because I prefer female protagonists.) Since I'm ace (and demiromantic), my interpretation of romance and attraction is not exactly what you'd expect from, say, a romance novel.

I am not going to tell you about all my books! I've written eighteen! Four of them are shelved forever! Here's some recent ones (written or revised since 2018) that I haven't given up on. Please ask me questions about them! I LOVE talking about my books! Also, if you want to be added to my taglist for writing samples let me know! Please also tell me if you're interested in alpha or beta reading and for which book! Mutuals only, please!

My books are beneath the cut! As I add WIP intros, I'll update this list with links.

Cast Out

YA fantasy! On her sixteenth birthday, Zisha is cast out of the Plenary Cities for the crime of being born deaf, like her grandmother before her. In the wastelands, she meets Thesil, a depressed and bitter young woman. Zisha wants nothing to do with her — until she sees Thesil's face in a vision. But before she can find out what the visions mean or reach her grandmother's holdings in the wastes, the plague returns to the Plenary Cities. If the disabled really caused the plague thirty years ago, and were cast out to stop the spread, how can it be back when all of them are outcast?

Status: Finished. Being serialized.

WIP intro here.

Now being serialized here. First five chapters up, one posted weekly.

The Bone Queen

This is my NA fantasy about the aftermath of freeing an undead queen and her skeleton army. They take over the kingdom, of course! The main character, Elise, is trapped in Bandrum palace by Aubrey, the ghost who tricked her into falling in love and freeing him (plus everyone else.) He's an animated skeleton now with plans to marry Elise and force her to carry his children. The bone queen has promised him she'll make it happen. Too bad no one cares what Elise wants. If only she had magic of her own...

Status: undergoing a rewrite after developmental edit. Was 109k before revisions. Not available for beta reading.

Draft number? Hahahaha. It has two complete sequels (The Spellbound King (106k) and The Matriarch's Daughter (96k)) I must also rewrite. This series is going to kill me but I love it. My mom, who loves everything I write, complained that it was weird. I'm very proud.

WIP intro here.

First chapter here.

School of Souls

This is my YA contemporary fantasy about a boarding school in the Bighorn Mountains! It's supposed to be a place parents can send "bad" teens to have their problems sorted out, but secretly the founder is using it to train the kids as sorcerers. Even more secretly, the school devours the souls of the students sent there, and the teenagers who graduate aren't the same as the ones who arrived... Warning: does include teenage addiction to sleeping pills and ghosts and and parental death. It's going to have sequels but I haven't written them yet.

Status: Complete first draft. 83k. Available for alpha reading.

WIP intro here.

First chapter here.

The Many-faced Princess

This is YA fantasy with a historical vibe but set in a made up world. Vaguely inspired by ancient Phoenicia. It's about Princess Ameryi, who was blessed by the genderless trickster god, Akihel, to be able to change her face. If her father the king ever found out, he'd have to execute her, of course. Akihel is just plain evil. All the other gods say so. A daughter who's their champion? Impossible. An abomination. So Ameryi will just have to make sure her father never finds out. That was easier to do before the Asirtinsa Empire threatened to invade and her father sent her to secure an alliance with a neighboring king. She's supposed to marry him. Not steal his face and frame him for murder. But sometimes plans just don't work out.

This book was supposed to be about two lesbian princesses who frame the king for murder so they can elope, but both princesses decided to be ace and there was nothing I could do.

Status: Complete first draft. 83k. It's going to have sequels but I haven't written them yet. Available for alpha reading.

First chapter here.

Map here.

Court Phoenix

This is my NA fantasy! Kerra is a blacksmith's apprentice. Not because she wants the job, but because her mother sold her future to him when she was still a toddler who crawled into live fires and giggled as the flames consumed her clothes. Now she's a woman, trapped by the expectations of her family and her village. Until one day, a phoenix crash-lands and dies in her arms. When it's reborn, it chooses Kerra as its keeper. Soon, her dreary future is swept away. A princess from Skyfire, the moving city, offers her a job in the royal court. How could Kerra refuse? Her family's claims that she'll die if she ever leaves the village are just manipulative lies. Aren't they?

Status: Complete third draft. 104k. Available for beta reading.

First chapter here.

The Revenant Trilogy

Adult fantasy. Solving a murder should bring good fortune, but all it brings Mindral Thideet is disaster. Her fame and peaceful life as head researcher at the city of knowledge end abruptly. In retaliation for her investigation into his crimes, Payar Cheref, the head of the powerful Cheref family, burns her beloved cousins alive and scars her face. The scar marks her as a revenant, a body possessed by a godkin, one of the gods' evil children. Her life as a researcher is over. All that's left is revenge.

No one believes her when she denies that godkins have any power over her. But godkins, real ones, are far closer than she realizes. Tearing down Payar Cheref could destroy Mindral, her family, and the nation itself.

-The Halfway Revenant (rewriting draft 4) 120k. Not available for beta reading.

-The Soul-Seer (draft 2) - 130k

-The Godkin's Gambit (draft 2) 121k

First chapter here.

As Immortality Fades

Adult fantasy. Five hundred years ago, one of the immortal and unpredictable Valteifur visited the kingdom of Kathild and granted the young queen Nelone immortality. But there was a catch. She'd live forever, youthful and strong, just so long as her subjects were happy. For centuries, she's met her part of the deal. But when the Valteifur returns to check on her progress, he grants her a new gift: the resurrection of every single person in Kathild who's died in the last two hundred years. Then he disappears.

There aren't enough houses for them all. There's not enough food. And winter is here.

Status: Complete first draft. 98k. Available for alpha reading.

Bi MC, enemies to lovers.

First chapter here.

Stitches and Memories

This one's adult fantasy. Antea's father ripped her mind apart, left her for dead, and vanished twelve years ago, and she's going to find out why. But when constables try to kill her and strange truth magic grows inside of her, hunting her father starts to look like suicide. Too bad going home isn't an option.

Status: I exchanged this with a critique partner and now it embarrasses me. Fourth draft. 122k. Available for beta reading.

Trigger warning: magic seizures

First chapter here.

WIP intro here.

Triangle Park

Contemporary Fantasy. I have no idea who it's for. An elf exiled to the middle of nowhere ends up stuck with an unexpected child. It's about reluctant parenting and protecting the needy. And elves and faeries slumming it in a mobile home.

Status: Complete first draft. 86k. Available for alpha reading.

First chapter here.

Mud-Child

Adult fantasy. Rebeka has always heard that a woman who goes through menopause loses her spark (the magic that lets her create children). If she's had children, it just makes the neighbors a little more fertile. But Rebeka never wanted a man, and she never wanted to raise a child. Not since her twin sister died and her beloved Suza left her for a man. The problem is, the spark leaves a childless woman differently, everyone says. A bitter hag? She'll curse her neighbors. A sweet dim biddie? She'll give her spark to inanimate objects and create a monster. Rebeka doesn't know which she is, but she believes it's a myth.

That was before the clay in her clay pit woke up and called her mother.

Status: Third draft. 109k. Needs a rewrite! Not available for beta reading.

First chapter here.

WIP intro here.

I GUESS I'M WRITING A NEW BOOK

The Giant's Gamble

First chapter here.

I started writing this on Friday the 13th, 2023. LET'S SEE HOW LONG IT TAKES TO WRITE WITH A BABY.

Short stories

The Unfamous Dead

VERY OLD CRAP

The Scribe and the Sphinx

Adult historical fantasy

Status: second draft. Shelved for good. 85k.

The Adrift series

The River's Drift. 100k.

The Waking Mountain. 106k.

Low-tech alien sci fi. Shelved for good.

My first book whose name I forget. About 50k. Exists only as a hard copy in my parents' house.

Taglist so far (tell me if you want to be added or removed)

Tag list for everything

@harleyacoincidence

@anonymousfoz

@moremysteriesthantragedies

@elizababie

@sm-writes-chaos

@bellascarousel

@the-dragon-chronicler

@teacupsandstarlight

@vorskra

@wrenofthewords

@amostdelectablescribbler

@mysticstarlightduck

@phantommill

@gracewritesbooks

@aziz-reads

@owlsandwich

@symbioticsimplicity

@squarebracket-trick

@koala2all

@rmgrey-author

@atomatowriter

@cheerfulmelancholies

@delusionisaplace

@janec23

@writing-is-a-martial-art

@authortango

Just chapters and snippets

@da-na-hae

For The Many-faced Princess

@deadlyessencewhispers

@serenanymph

The Halfway Revenant

@acertainmoshke

For Stitches and Memories

@space-writes

@acertainmoshke

The Bone Queen

@janec23

@holdmyteaplease

@digital-chance

@thecrookedwriterspath

@tea-and-mercury

@coven-archives

I love you all!

#writeblr intro #oh my god this is long #why did I write so much #why did I do this to myself #writeblr #writing #writing community #creative writing #fantasy #writers of tumblr

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