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#i want his redemption arc if he ever decides to have one to be long and gruelling and full of setbacks and last for seasons

waynewifey · 9 months

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aftermath — b.w

part one - ‘dear mr. wayne’

part two - ‘aftermath’

part three. - ‘aporia’

summary: you escaped that warehouse, but part of you died in there. now, your husband helps you grief your own loss while trying to not murder your relationship.

pairing: bruce wayne/battinson x reader

genre: drama & angst romance

warnings: mentions of sex and alcohol; mentions of ptsd, anxiety and it’s symptoms; hospital setting; dubious science; dubious law enforcement

word count: 2.9k

A/N: thank you for all the positive feedback on part 1! there will be a part three because this post would get too long, so let me know if you’ll like to be tagged in that. my biggest challenge writing this was trying to give bruce the start of a redemption arc, please tell me if you think it worked. comments and constructive criticism is appreciated!

gotham, USA.

the continuous beeping sound wakes you up.

your eyes are still closed, blocking the intense light over your head. your senses are taken by the familiar scent: sandalwood, cinnamon and lemongrass soap. it almost feels like you're home.

but your feet are senseless from the cold and the bedsheets faintly smell like chlorine. there's a pinching ache in your arm and the scenario is complete. oh how you hate hospitals.

"how are you feeling?" back at home, bruce had learned the difference in your breathing as you woke up, which made pretending to sleep hard enough for you to give up. you open your eyes, finding yourself in a luxurious room. if it wasn't for the IV on your left side, it could easily be mistaken for a five star hotel.

bruce sat at a large light green armchair, about four feet from your left hand. you couldn't tell by his voice, but he looked exhausted. for once, he's wearing sweatpants. the puffy face and swollen eyes show he hasn't had much sleep. you, on the other hand, feel like you've slept for a thousand years.

"i have no idea. what's up with me?" his sigh has your heart racing and the fear of being a liability falls over you. a comforting hand lays on yours, his warms fingers grounding you to remember the last time you were awake. it felt like a nightmare and you desperately hoped it was. instead, the pain comes in flashes, the image of your husband being shot and the feeling of hitting ice cold water do too. it's all just so horrible you wish it wasn't real.

"they told me you were going to be fine, but i don't know." bruce feels as if a burden has come off his chest finally seeing you move. the last couple of days have been a torture of expectation and blame for him. "the doctor had you in an induced coma. you had a concussion on the river. your stomach was stitched up. he said..." he stops for a moment, this is obviously way too hard for him to go through again. bruce hasn't left the room ever since he was discharged. everyday, for two weeks, he kept overthinking the night before and the day during. if he had stayed up and talked about your relationship, you wouldn't be in that bed. if he looked for you in the morning, if he noticed your absence at work, if he hadn't put his phone on silent mode... there were a million of things that he could've done different so the most important person in his world wouldn't have gone through all of that. "he said the ptsd would worsen your recovery. this morning the nurses told me you were better, so i have to believe them. that's my only hope."

you need a moment to take in the words, finally deciding that you didn't want to discuss your health. there were way better people to pay attention to that in the building and it would only make you anxious. you can't help but stare at his eyes, your mind bringing up the image of your husband choking the man that kept you hostage.

"you almost killed him." the tone is of disapproval, bruce couldn't be any more confused. he frowns. bile arises from his stomach leaving a acid taste to his mouth.

"i would've, of course i would. y/n, you had no idea what i would do for you. i would fight the devil himself if it meant keeping you safe. that's why i do what i do. the batman, the politics, it's all for you. if i can make this world 1% better for you, for our children, to live on, it's worth it." his gulp is loud, adam's apple going up and down, showing how dry his throat was. the following words have his voice shaking, almost disappearing. "but fate keeps telling me that i'm not enough. no matter what i do, you keep getting hurt and i just-" bruce stares the floor. that's something he always did when saying harsh things, avoiding eye contact and not letting tears slip away. however, this time it doesn't work at all. he can hear his heart tearing up with every syllable, the physical pain striking his chest. he wants to beg you to forgive him, but there is a noble thing to do. his words are cut off by the creaking of the door and the doctor's footsteps. he's smiling, like this isn't hell. bruce shrinks into the couch, making himself ignorable.

"so... i have good news!" the blonde says, clipboard in hand. "we need to run some other tests and an x-ray, but you seem to be healing pretty well. we'll hold you in for a couple of days just to make sure there aren't any complications with your body and then you can go home. how are you feeling so far?"

you're surprised by the sudden change in the conversation and your brain needs a moment to think about something helpful. you do a body scan trying to identify any pain, but overall you feel good.

"hungry. like, starving." the doctor smiles, saying he'll get you a meal as soon as possible. he warns you that you may not be able to eat much just yet, something about your stomach shrinking. you nod, already feeling irritated by the recovery process. then he leaves and there's a loud silence until you get back on the previous topic.

"you just what?" you expect bruce to sit correctly again, but he doesn't. he looks so small in the shadows, so comfortable. you really don't want to talk about that anymore, but curiosity takes over. he doesn't respond immediately, so your heart pounds over the anxiety of hearing bad news. suddenly you feel so tired, you want him to take over all the decisions like he usually does. today, though, he seems open to suggestions, like his own ideas weren't suitable. how could you know someone so well but still have no idea what's on his mind?

"i think maybe you shouldn't be associated with me. any part of me." the world stops with your breathing. bruce wishes he could take it back. going over this conversation in his head made it seem easier to say out loud. you've been married for three years. you knew his ambitions for even longer. you chose this life and he has no right to take that from you. still, the ring on your finger weighs you down.

— DENIAL

you've learned to appreciate the winter winds. at the top of the wayne tower there were barely any, but tonight they caress your face with the gift of numbness. breathing in is both refreshing and painful. the scratched teacup warms your fingers, a small memoir from your childhood home, from times that won't ever come back. you used to be down there, frightened by dark alleys and gunshots. now you're on top of the world and nothing, not even that psychopath, can take that from you. you did relearn discomfort. ache. cold. it all made you appreciate life even more. in fact, the month that followed your hospital discharge was pure bliss. something about renewal, about rebirth.

bruce watched you from the living room, the wrinkled glass distorting your silhouette in the balcony. that was a good representation of how he currently saw you, slightly blurred and shaken. his cup would usually hold whiskey, neat, but it holds coffee instead. you keep saying you're fine and waking up screaming in the middle of the night. then he would hold you and you would be actually fine. so now he's staying awake through the night, sleeping three or four hours during the day while alfred takes care of you. of course they don't let you know, because you've denied every explicit help. as you get ready to sleep, bruce gets ready to stay in bed through the night, alone with his thoughts. part of him was scared to sleep. he was sleeping when you were taken, there's no way he would let that happen again.

it has been almost a year since he stopped patrolling the city. the news cover murders and robberies every day. alfred makes sure to come up with something for both bruce and you to do at those hours. he's taken a pause in promoting his candidacy, he couldn't handle the public eye for now. still, the marketing team insists that your kidnapping was good media, even though he never officially spoke on it. they publish notes about being away, about taking care of family. he can't see how that could be good in any way.

you open the glass doors, flashing your husband a sweet smile. you're in a red silk robe and your hair is still perfectly done. perfectionism was one of the side effects, as one may call it, of the trauma. you visited a psychiatrist about a month ago, since bruce insisted on it, and he marked all of the habits that made you happy as unhealthy. you never told bruce what was said in that appointment in hopes that he'll get over it. him treating you like a porcelain doll made you nauseous.

"ready for bed?" you ask, standing behind the couch and hugging his shoulders. you breathe in his scent, remembering the day you met. you were an executive in an overseas wayne enterprises headquarters that had just gotten transferred to gotham. they offered you six figures to take the second in command position, so you obviously got to know the first in command. in the beginning, you honestly thought he was an entitled brat that didn't work at all. overtime, you realised how much he cared about the company and how much he was pining over you. you gave him an opening and he asked you out. six months into the relationship, he told you about batman. he knew, somehow, that you would be forever.

he sets in bed while you're touching up in the bathroom. the night had to be perfect. you've hadn't made love ever since the fight and ovulation week had gotten you a little crazy. you check yourself in the mirror, thanking the hormones making you sexy. you crawl into his side, slower than needed, hair falling over the shoulder. "hi" you whisper, sitting diagonally from him and cuddling a bit. he says hi back, with a chuckle. you give him a little peck, which is all you've been doing for all of this time. he stays still, not pulling back but also not doing anything either. you try to take it as a good sign. your lips then reach his jawline and neck, leaving wet kisses all over his skin. your hands touch his shirt and go underneath it, tracing your fingers along his defined abdomen. a hand holds your arm, pushing you away. your smile fades and you frown your face to him.

"touch me, bruce" you not so much ask, it's more like a plead. he sighs, channelling all his will to stick with his decision. he puts a string of your hair behind your ear and you think he's going to properly kiss you.

"i don't think we should do this. you're not well enough yet." he doesn't sound so certain, but it hits you like a hard brick wall. this is harder for him than he lets it show, he's a man after all. even so, he can't see you like that for the moment. he sees you scattered and feels like it's his responsibility to assemble you again.

"i'm perfectly fine." you state like a grumpy proud child who's just lost a soccer tournament. he sees right through it.

"you're not, you're in denial." that simple word makes your mood swing: denial. it's the same thing the stupid psychiatrist told you. you can even hear his smoker's voice echoing in the office. it isn't true. you got over it, that's all. maybe some people take more time to do so, but you did just like that. you had a life to get back to.

you get off the bed and pull your robe tight again. "i'm sleeping in the guest room. good night." he doesn't follow and lets you be. in all honesty, he didn't know if he would have the strength to turn you down a second time.

bruce tries to fight the tiredness. even with caffeine running high in his blood system, he falls asleep for a while. the guest room is far enough that he doesn't hear the muffled sobbing. he wakes up not so long after with screaming. his heart races as he runs down the stairs, following the sound of your voice. his mind starts thinking the worst, but he finds you only having nightmares. he crawls in bed with you, without being kicked off. he lets you lay on his chest, one arm over your shoulder. his body warms yours up and you finally stop spasming. it doesn't take too long for both to fall asleep.

— ANGER

the penthouse is quiet. the winter is almost at it's end, so the pre-spring rays lighten the living room bringing warmness to your solitude. you sit uncomfortably, unknown to this feeling of absence. you don't feel him in the tower.

bruce said there was a non deniable meeting with his press team, because eventually he would have to go back to promoting his election, which would take place in the fall. you acted unbothered. yet, he's barely been gone for an hour and you can already feel the anxiety crippling. you only left the apartment for doctors appointment, still too scared to walk on the streets. and he was always there, too, holding your hand. so this is different.

alfred is downstairs upgrading the batman suit with a new technology he created. he invited you, but the darkness of the cave was definitely unrequited. that's how you end up lounging, in silence, staring at window. finally, you decide to try to watch something. you shouldn't really do that, because something could trigger a panic attack. but you're fine, you really are. enough with this nonsense.

shuffling through the channels, nothing gets your attention until there's a juridical show on. the judge is talking to the prosecutor, apparently, announcing the next witness to testify. the camera angle changes to the courtroom and expectant eyes turn to the wooden door. it opens slowly to reveal a knight in dark armour. you hold your breath. the jury buzzes and the room gets loud. heavy steps make his cape swing behind him, as he makes his way to the stand.

bruce had to make a tough decision. while you and him had been cleared from the trial, you with the psychiatrist report on PTSD and him with the marriage, the lawyers mentioned that the batman's testimony could be decisive for the accused to be found guilty by the jury. the public respected him. either they loved or feared him. so, even though he's never made such a public appearance, less even speaking, he had to go to that trial. he owed it to you. but you could never know. he didn't want to spark your interest in the case, you shouldn't have to go through it again. he lays his hand on the constitution and swears on it.

it doesn't feel real until you hear the judge.

"members of the jury, i present to you the batman."

it feels like a dagger has gone through your chest. there's a mix of feelings that have you almost throwing up. you feel like screaming and crying and blowing the fucking world up. how could he do that to you? that was your case, your life. you stand up only to find your legs trembling. you want to run there and testify. you want to tell the world the horrors you've been through and show them, including your husband, that you had overcome it. he was calling you weak right in you face and you couldn't bear the feeling of being chained up again. you're stuck in this hell of a tower like some futile damsel.

you stomp your way to the elevator, your mind set on leaving the building. but your heart stops you in your tracks pounding and almost vomiting itself out; you feel your toes numb and your legs can't stop shaking. the baritone voice still sounds in the apartment. you run to it and scream at the TV. you throw a pillow on it. that doesn't cool you down. your body is in motion while all you can see is red. you knock the coffee table down, shattering the glass and scattering like ashes the books that were on it on the floor. the noise still doesn't muffle his voice and you can't find the fucking remote control. you stumble across the room, throwing lamps and vases around. everything is falling down, in every sense. you grab a candle and let out a scream when you hit the TV with it, the screen going black and the noise finally ceasing.

alfred finds the room trashed, with you kneeling on the broken glass. there's blood on the floor. your body trembles with every sob. he cautiously steps towards you. you feel out of breath, tears burning your eyes. he holds you like a mother does.

"i'm sorry- i'm so sorry," he shakes his head, saying it doesn't matter. you wanna say it does, but there's simply nothing leaving your mouth apart from "i'm so sorry"

part three - aporia

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thedeathlysallows · 6 months

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Santa Baby

Pairing: Loki x F!reader

Summary: Think of all the fun I've missed/ Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed/ I really do believe in you/ Let's see if you believe in me.

Warnings: Smut. Degradation, dirty talk, loss of virginity (reader's), dom!Loki, oral sex (f!receiving), breeding kink, unprotected sex, ever so slight Jotun!Loki. Loki hasn't had his redemption arc yet

Okay, so, I really have no excuses for this one. It's borderline crackfic but I did my best lol

"Nicholas!"

"Odin!"

You stand shoulder to shoulder with your brother as you watch your father embrace the Allfather. For as long as you can remember, this has been your family's Christmas tradition. After your father finishes delivering gifts all across the nine realms on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day is spent on Asgard with the royal family. You aren't sure why it's a tradition- the elves say it's because Odin was the one to gift your father his powers, to create Santa Claus as the worlds know him- but you've learned over the years it's best not to argue about it.

(There was one year you wanted to spend Christmas at home in the North Pole like a normal family... and your mom fainted from the shock. The elves wouldn't talk to you for a month (which wasn't all that disappointing if you were to be honest). So you considered that lesson learned and never brought it up ever again.)

You watch as your mother greets Frigga next, the two of them looking like the epitome of the Mother archetype. Frigga with her regal air and your mother with her kind smile. You can't imagine ever having to step into their roles and you feel relieved you'll never have to. Your brother is set to be the next Santa and his wife will be Mrs. Claus. Odin's throne will go to Thor and his wife we'll be Queen of Asgard.

All you have to be is yourself.

Free to make your own rules.

To forge your own path.

To-

"Hello, little one." Loki smiles at you fondly and steps towards you. His hands are bound in front of him and the chains draped over his body rattle with each movement.

You tilt your head, observing him closely. "Loki. I knew you were on my dad's Naughty list for the whole New York thing, so I guess it makes sense you ended up on Odin's list too."

His smile morphs into a nasty sneer as he bares his teeth at you. A guard yanks on the chain around his neck, pulling him an appropriate distance from you.

"Must we do this today," Frigga whispers to her husband. "It's the last day of Yule. Let Loki have an hour of freedom."

"And what will that hour cost us," Odin counters.

Your father raises his hand. "If I may? The kids have been working on their magic and sugar plum over here has a real talent for it. I'm sure she could keep Loki in line for an hour."

Loki's eyes burn a hole into the side of your skull as he says, "Yes. The Santa baby can watch me."

"For an hour," you add, turning to your dad. You point a finger at the jolly old man. "And only an hour."

Odin strokes his beard thoughtfully, considering every possible outcome of letting Loki free for a bit. Eventually, he bangs his staff against the shimmering golden floor and Loki's chains fall away. Loki, for his part, makes an effort not to appear too eager. He rubs his wrists and rolls his neck before squaring his shoulders and turning to you.

"I'm at your mercy for the next hour, sugar plum."

And the way he says it so seductively has you reaching the realization that maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

You fidget uncomfortably, balling the ends of your long sleeves in your hands. Loki watches your twitchy movements silently. That's how he's always watched you. Ever since that first meeting when you were nothing more than a child coming to terms with her father being the Santa Claus. He's always watched you silently, thoughtfully, like he's waiting for you to decide who you'll be... and maybe, just maybe, if there will be a place for him beside you when you do decide who to be.

"I'm already regretting this," you say out loud to no one really.

No one is paying attention anymore anyway.

No one except Loki who places a hand at the small of your back and gestures in front of you with the other. "Come, we both know you're foaming at the mouth to get to the garden."

You can't help the eyeroll his words induce. "How eloquent."

"Thank you."

"I wasn't complimenting you."

Loki purses his lips, fighting back a grin. "No, you would never do that, would you?"

"Just shut up and follow me."

He pretends to zip his mouth shut and throw away the key, earning an aggravated groan from you.

If you were to be honest, you don't find Loki's presence all that objectionable. Sure, his ego is out of hand, he tried to take over your home planet, he can be a real pain in the ass, sassy, confrontational, a know it all... wait, what was your point again? Oh, right! Loki has many, many, many faults, but he's always been kind to you. Deep down you know his affection for you doesn't truly account for the monstrosities he's committed, but it does make him ten percent less Naughty in your eyes.

"When will you tell Jolly Old Saint Nicholas that I've been the one helping you with your magic, sugar plum."

Okay. Five percent less Naughty.

"Never," you say without looking at him. Instead you fix your eyes on the garden up ahead.

He clicks his tongue. "How absolutely Naughty of you. I approve."

Two percent.

"I don't need your approval. And stop calling me sugar plum!"

Loki stops walking abruptly, forcing you to turn around and meet him face to face. Or face to chest rather. He's taller than you by several inches and his broad figure almost blocks out the steadily rising sun. Hues of pink, orange, and purple burst from behind him in pastel streaks of color. The wind is soft and gentle as it wraps around the two of you, pressing your bodies ever closer. If you could paint you think you would paint him just as he is now, all soft edges and gentle eyes.

He shakes his head. "You don't need it, but you want it. You crave it, don't you, my darling?"

You think you prefer him calling you sugar plum. That feels far less intimate than hearing the words my darling come out of his mouth.

"I don't want anything from you," you say full of false bravado.

"Oh?" Loki pulls you in to his body and tilts your chin up with his thumb and forefinger. "Not even my cock? I think if I were to bend you over this balcony and fuck that tight little cunt of yours, you'd thank me by the end of it. Wouldn't you, sugar plum?"

You swallow the lump in your throat and will away the rising heat in the pit of your stomach. "I said stop calling me that, Loki."

"Then what would you prefer, hmm?" His lips are centimeters from yours, teasing you by brushing against you ever so lightly as he speaks. "You positively lit up when I called you my darling. How does my queen sound? Better yet, how about my whore?"

"Stop."

"Did you make it to the Nice list this year? No sneaking around and kissing boys behind my back?"

You grit your teeth, embarrassment washing over you with the realization that you actually enjoy having him talk to you like this. "Stop. I know what you're trying to do."

"And what would that be?"

"You want me to give up on you like everyone else. There's a past between us whether we like it or not and you want me to just... forget it. Let it go. Everyone else already believes you're a monster and you can't stand that there's one person in the world who still believes you can be good."

Silence stretches out between the two of you like a snake sunbathing on a rock. It's an almost tangible sensation. All you can hear is the air rushing through your lungs as Loki's chest rises and falls at an alarming rate.

"Is this the part where we hug and I thank you for always believing in me? Because... no, I don't think I'll do that," Loki finally says after a few painful seconds.

You huff in frustration, spinning on your heel to go back inside and forget the whole deal. You'll lock yourself in a guest room with some delicious Asgardian mead and that'll be that. This whole sexual tension thing with a man you shouldn't want in the first place will disappear along with the alcohol.

Before you can take a step forward and put you're new Christmas Day plan into motion, Loki grabs you by the arm and pulls you back. His chest presses into your back, a warm and solid wall of muscle.

"Where do you think you're running off to, sugar plum?" He bends down and whispers the words in your ear, his lips ghosting over your skin and leaving goosebumps all over your body.

"Your hour's up."

"I've still got forty five minutes."

"Yeah, well... I'm finished with this."

Loki slips an arm around your waist, grinding his hardened length into your ass. "You're through when I say you're through, and right now I want you down on your knees worshipping."

"But... we're outside..."

The protest dies on your lips as green sparks emanate from Loki's fingertips, circling the two of you before sinking back into his palm.

"There," he says simply. "Problem solved. Now if anyone were to walk by they would simply see us admiring the flowers. Now, on your knees."

You let him push you down on your knees, his long fingers curling in your hair. Through the tight leather of his trousers you can make out the imprint of his cock. You won't be able to take all of him in your mouth. There's just no way. You're willing to try though, you think to yourself as you look up into the familiar green-blue of his eyes.

He helps you undo his pants, picking up the slack when your nervous fingers tremble while untying the laces. He's eerily patient and allows you to take your time. Build your courage as it were. You want this. You know you do. You're just... nervous.

The realization strikes Loki suddenly. "You're a virgin?"

The accusation- however true- doesn't sit right in your chest. "Do you want me to do this or not?"

Loki's eyes shine bright with absolute glee. "You are!"

"Loki-"

The world swirls and warps around you, the oxygen leaving your lungs in a sudden woosh. You suddenly find yourself in your usual guest chambers. Still on your knees. Still out of breath.

"Much better!" Loki sighs happily before making himself comfortable on the large bed. "Actually, one more thing."

A fire roars to life in the hearth and the bright gold decorations littering the room turn a deep shade of emerald.

"Lest you forget who you're with," he explains simply.

"I couldn't if I tried." You look at Loki out of the corner of your eye as he lounges on the bed. His pants are undone, exposing the deep V of his pelvic muscles and a light dusting of hair. He looks at you so intently you feel like you might explode. "What?"

Loki motions for you to come closer. "I want you to come on my face, sugar plum."

You swear your body just gives out as soon as you hear the words. "W-what?"

He growls and sits straight up. "You are going to walk that pretty little arse over here, and then your are going to straddle my face, so I can lick your cunt until you come."

It takes everything in you to do exactly as he says. You aren't completely inexperienced and you aren't a complete idiot either. You know what the fire in your belly and the slickness between your thighs means. You want Loki, wanted him for years. Never in your wildest dreams did you think he actually wanted you too.

It's a Christmas miracle in your opinion.

When you make it to the edge of the bed Loki tuts at you, toying with the hem of your dress. "I meant to comment earlier, but this is the most horrid thing I've ever seen."

Your brow furrows. "Hey! Sprinkle made this for me!"

"Sprinkle." The way Loki says the elf's name almost sounds like a curse.

"You've met him before. Back a few- oof!"

Loki rips the dress to tatters in the blink of an eye. You want to hit him, curse him, something, but he moves too quickly. Instead you make a mental note to apologize to Sprinkle when you get home, and let Loki manipulate your body so that your kneeling over his face. His breath on your core sends a shiver through your body.

"Loki," you whine, gripping at his hair.

"Good girl," he moans out as you tug on the long, dark strands. "Let's see if you taste as sweet as you look."

His tongue laves at your folds, teasing you. It's strange but nice and exhilarating all at once. Your hips buck involuntarily when he finally slips his tongue inside you and he sighs happily against your skin.

"Fuck, yes," Loki groans.

You whimper pathetically.

"I need inside you. Now," he says against your soaked cunt. "I need you, darling."

All you can do is nod. Your bones feel like jelly, but you want more. You want him. You want him inside you. You want him to come inside you. You want it so badly you can almost imagine a future filled with children who have your hair and his eyes.

When he looks up at you there's a split second where you think he sees that future too.

Loki ends the moment quickly though, telling you to get on your back. He positions his cock at your entrance and you have a momentary lapse in confidence. You don't want him to stop, but he's bigger than you could've guessed, and-

"Relax." Loki presses his mouth to yours, nipping at your bottom lip. "You were made to take this cock."

You nod and angle your hips up so his tip slips inside you. Your unused muscles twitch against the intrusion, making Loki hiss out something in Old Norse. One of his hands wraps around your throat while the other pins your hips against the bed. Using this leverage he pushes his entire length inside you, swallowing your screams with his lips. Loki pumps in and out of you slowly, watching your face for signs of discomfort.

"M-more," you sigh. "Harder... more... please..."

His breath hitches. "Are you sure, my darling?"

"Yes!"

"Very well." Loki's hips snap, shoving himself even deeper inside you.

Your hands fly to grip his biceps. His skin is colder. Colder than you've ever felt it. And there's a slight blue tinge.

"Loki, fuck... oh my god..."

His hand not wrapped around your throat slaps across your cheek. "My king. Say it. Say I'm your king."

You manage a tiny nod. "You're... you're my king..."

Loki's grip tightens and his pace quickens. You can feel his thick cock sliding in and out of you, stretching you around him, forcing his way deep inside you.

"L-Loki..." You let out a short whine. "Come inside me. Please. I need it. Please, please..."

He chuckles darkly. "How pathetic. You're begging like a common whore. Is that what you are, darling? Are you my whore?"

"Y-yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, my king."

Loki, seemingly satisfied by your answer, lifts your leg over his shoulder and shoves his way deeper inside you. There's a painful burn as you adjust to the new angle and pace, but the look of ecstasy on Loki's face is enough to send you over the edge again. You come on his cock once more, but this time he comes with you, filling you until it leaks out.

You aren't sure when you closed your eyes, but when you open them Loki is looking at you with a strange expression.

"My hour is up," is all he says.

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki fanfiction #loki laufesyon x reader #loki layfeyson imagine

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14buddy22 · 11 months

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How You Get The Girl

Part 1: You’re Losing Me / Masterlist

AARON HOTCHNER REDEMPTION ARC WC: 2.9K

Based off “How You Get the Girl” by T.Swifttttt

6 months.

That’s how long you’ve been without Aaron and Jack in your life. It was the worst. You knew he was happier without you. You weren’t holding him back anymore.

But you weren’t happy. You thought you would be happy without Aaron and Jack. But losing them was the worst thing to happen to you. You gave Aaron the ultimatum because you wanted to be happy, you wanted him to be happy, but it came back to hurt you.

The few dates you went on with the owner of the bar were wonderful, but he just wasn’t Aaron. Everything the guy did, you only thought about how Aaron would’ve done it. When you told him you weren’t ready for a relationship, he understood. He just asked that you told Aaron how you felt.

But you couldn’t. How could you just “waltz” into Aaron and Jack’s life again. Jack could never forgive you. You had been in his life for almost 4 years, and you left. You were a mom to him and you left him.

You had seen him one time, on the playground. You were going to walk over and say hi but then you saw Rossi and Aaron and decided to go against it. You couldn’t just show back up in their lives, especially after leaving them.

You missed Jack dearly. He was just a child. You always wanted to be a mom. Being a mom to him for 3 and a half years was the best thing ever. You and him had a special bond, and you were a complete asshole because you let your “happiness” get in the way of that. You were never happy after you lost Aaron and Jack.

While you missed the early morning breakfasts, the spontaneous dance sessions, the rainy movie days, and everything else with Jack, you’ll never forgive yourself for not staying, for not fighting harder for you and Aaron. Something had to give in the relationship, you had just wished that it wasn’t you.

You wished you had given Aaron a different ultimatum. Maybe you should have tried and compromised. But you didn’t, that’s on you. This pain your dealing with is going to take forever to get over. Everytime you see a father and son in the store or on the street, you could only think about Aaron and Jack. Everytime you went shopping, you couldn’t help but go down the office supply aisle and look for the refillable ink for Aaron’s pens. But you could never buy them, you didn’t have Aaron in your life.

Every little thing reminded you of those two boys in your life. You were so much happier with Aaorn and Jack in your life. Aaron was trying, yes there were the missed dates and the broken promises, but you’d rather have the missed dates and broken promises all over again than feel the way you do now.

Alone, Upset, Miserable.

You had still been living with Penelope, both of you decided that it was the best living arrangement. You tried to move out but she insisted you stayed. She had a personal chef, especially because she was not good at cooking, she had a gossip buddy, and you two got to remain friends, even though you and Aaron were broken up.

Penelope filled the voids of your emptiness. She did everything she could to make you happy. She was home every night with you. While she worked for the BAU, she very rarely got to travel, but, you think that after you explained to Aaron why you were breaking up with him, he made her stay back even more, especially when he found out you were living with her.

**** Earlier that day ****

Penelope had barged into Aaron’s office. Not caring what he was doing. He looked up from his paperwork and he said, “Penelope? What’s the problem?”

“Sir, I need to be honest with you. You need to go after Y/n. You love her? Don’t you?”

“Of course I do, but I want her to be happy. That’s my number one priority. She was not happy with me, so, I did what was reasonable. I let her go. I will always love her, but I will always want her to be happy. Even if that’s not with me.”

“But, sir, it is with you! She still loves you. Yes, she’s gone out on a few dates with that guy but they never had sex yet! That’s a sign she still loves you.”

Aaron rolled his eyes and shook his head. He couldn’t believe he was listening to this. As he shook his head, he looked down at the pen in his hand. His heart stopped for a brief moment. These were only the pens he had kept in his home office. He doesn’t know how they got here.

“Penelope. I don’t care if she’s had sex with them. I lost her. There’s no coming back from this.”

“Yes there is. Trust me. She still talks about you and Jack. Her room is decorated with pictures that Jack had drawn her. There are framed pictures of you kissing her cheek. She still wants you. She’s not happy. She’s alone. She’s miserable. She needs you. She was happy with you.”

“She left. I lost her. How could she be happy with me. Something had to give, Penelope.”

“She just wants change, Aaron. That’s all she wants. She thinks about what went wrong and we talk about it every single night. She still loves you, Aaron. She just will never come into yours and Jack’s life again because she doesn’t want to cause you two any more pain than you’ve already been through.”

Aaron thought back to what you and him had talked about during your fight. He scoffed and said, “She’s a people pleaser. She’ll suffer just to make others happy. She needs herself to be happy.”

“Aaron. You make her happy. I promise, if you were to ever talk to her again. She’ll take you back. She’s only thought of a million scenarios where you and Jack come back into her life. I promise. If you think about this, think about how you want to change to be in a better relationship the second time, now’s your chance, Aaron. I can’t stand to see her miserable anymore. If you don’t want her in your life, you need to let me know now so I can be honest with her and help her come back to reality that you won’t be in her life anymore.”

Aaron couldn’t stop Garcia fast enough from talking. He needed to get you back. He had a second chance. Well, that’s what she was telling him. When she walked out of his office, he sat there contemplating how he was going to get you back after how he lost you.

It wasn’t long before it was storming, he didn’t realize how bad it was, but if he wanted you back, he needed to do it today.

****

It was storming really bad out. Streets were flooded, some parts of town were out of power, luckily the BAU wasn’t on a case so you were thankful Aaron was home with Jack. Jack still wasn’t a fan of bad storms. He thought they were cool, but he still loved to be cuddled up on a couch or sleep in bed with Aaron. And at one point, he loved to be with you.

Penelope was making popcorn as you two decided to have a movie night. We heard the crack of thunder and it began to downpour even harder. You didn’t realize how hard it was raining until the TV went silent for a split second, the lights flickering.

“Geez, it’s really raining out there. Anybody who is out in this weather right now is insane.”

As you and Penelope got settled in on your respective seats on the couch, she handed you a bowl of popcorn and a napkin.

“Thank you, Penelope. And not just for the popcorn, but everything. From helping me and giving me a place to stay so I don’t have to look for a new apartment, for being my therapist and listening to the problems Aaron and I had, for telling me how he’s doing at work and how Jack’s been doing. I mean it. It’s been 6 months without them, I want him back, but I can’t go back. I gave him the ultimatum, he needed to realize that I was serious. If I run back to him, what does that show? That this whole thing was my fault, especially when I’d go crawling back. I wanted him to realize when I moved out that he lost me and I wanted him back, I never realized that he would actually be better off without me.”

“Oh sweetness, he hasn’t been better off without you. He’s been taking it hard. He’s not the same person he was when he was with you.”

Part of you wanted to break down and cry. You caused his heartbreak, yet all you wanted him was to be happy. You assumed that letting him have the BAU would make him happy, he didn’t have to come home to a fiancé who complained about his broken promises.

“Let’s begin the movie before we’re both sobbing.”

As Penelope found the video, there was a knock on the door. You stood up, immediately making your way to the door and looking through her peep hole. When you looked through you saw Aaron shaking from the rain, he was cold.

You threw open the door, looking at him, he looked handsome, even if he was soaked from the rain, he looked beautiful. But that’s not what you cared about.

“Aaron! Are you insane?”

Penelope sent a picture to the BAU (minus Aaron) of Aaron and you at the door and said, “Operation get those two back together is in the final stages.”

“It’s been a long six months and I was too afraid to tell you what I want.”

What was going on? Aaron’s at Penelope’s door. You hadn’t talked to him in 6 months, but he’s here. He must have realized that he had lost you. He had to be holding on to some type of hope or faith to think it’s how he’d get you back.

“Aaron, let’s get you out of that suit, you’re gonna catch a cold. And is Jack home alone? He hates storms, Aaron.”

Aaron didn’t budge. He just grabbed your hand and pulled you into the hall.

“I want you for worse or for better. I would wait forever and ever. I broke your heart, I know that. But I’ll put it back together. Like I said, I would wait forever and ever. I was sitting on our couch the other day, in our sunroom, just remembering how it used to be. How the last good memory I have of us was from that morning 6 months ago. It hurt taking down those pictures of us, me kissing your cheek. Those were my favorite ones that I had framed, because you were so caught off guard in them. They were my favorite pictures because that was always my chance to surprise you.”

You couldn’t help but look at him with the most empathetic eyes you ever had. He must have come to his senses that he lost you, or, got close to losing you forever.

“When you told me that I was losing you, I couldn’t believe. I didn’t want to believe it. I lost my mind when I left you all alone and I never told you why. That’s how it works and that’s how I lost my dream girl. God, I miss you. I miss your scent in the morning. I miss when Jack used to be happy to come into our room, now he won’t even step foot in there. I missed that I had someone to come home, too. Someone who told me I was doing my best job, nothing more could have been done. I miss the one who put me above herself. I’m not saying that to be selfish, but I miss it because the date I went on, she only cared about herself. I compared her to you. No one will ever be you. I want you. I want the girl who notices what my favorite brand of pens are and secretly refills them. I want the girl I can come home too and not be screamed at even though I messed up and should be yelled at. I want you. I want all of you. I know I might have lost you for good. You told me that. I’m willing to compromise and cut back on my hours and if we schedule a date, I’m going to make sure you and I go on that date. Because i saw what you looked like on a date with another guy. I saw how happy you were as a live band was playing. You were dancing in the street and I want to be the one to spin you around. I want to be the one who dances with you when no one else is dancing. I want you for worse or for better. I’ll wait forever and ever just to get you again. I broke your heart, I’ll put it back together. I promise you that. I want to get you back.”

Just as he caught his breath, you stepped forward and kissed him. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you closer to him. The kiss was 1000 times better than your first kiss. You know Aaron meant every word he just confessed to you right now. That kiss proves he knew he lost you the first time, and he would never lose you again.

“I’m not going to lose you anymore. It’s you and me until the end of time. Those 6 months were hell without you in my life, I never want to live through that again.”

“I love you, Aaron.”

As you pulled him into Penelope’s apartment, he shut the door behind him and he said hello to her. You excused yourself and apologized to Penelope but she stopped you before you could even say anything else.

Closing your door behind you and Aaron, he pushed you back up against the door, kissing you again. You began to take off his wet suit and as you got him stripped out of his clothes, you stopped just as he was in his boxers.

“Who has Jack?”

“Jack is with Jess. He wanted to have a sleepover there. You know, he misses you.”

You pushed him back against the bed and made him sit down. You moved around the room, grabbing a pair of his sweatpants and tshirt that you had stolen and never gave back after the break up.

As Aaron put his sweatpants on, he pulled you onto his lap, kissing you once more.

“6 months was a long time without you. I never want to be without you for that long ever again. Please come home. Jack misses you, I miss you. I still want to marry you. It’s our 4 year anniversary today, in case you forgot.”

“How could I forget?”

You ran your fingers through his soaking wet hair. You took him in. It’s been 6 whole months since you got to be with him. But it’s probably been over a year since you were having an emotional, vulnerable, intimiate moment with him right now.

“Aaron, I love you. If we do this, we get back together, get married. Things have to change. I can’t go through that again. I can’t do the broken promises. I can’t have a baby with you if you won’t help be a parent to them. I want to have a baby with you because I know you’re an amazing father with Jack, but I want our baby to have those moments with you. Maybe even more moments that you missed with Jack. You told me that was your biggest regret in your life, was not being there for the little things. If we’re going to do this, let’s do this right.”

“I told you. I’m going to fix your heart that I broke. I’m going to do everything to change. I’m going to do it the right way. Thank you for bringing me to my senses. Thank you for giving me a second chance, well more like the millionth chance. But thank you.”

As you and him made your ways onto your respective sides of the bed, you got under the covers with him. When he pulled you into his arms, he waited until you were long asleep in his arms before he decided to close his eyes.

He lost you the first time, he sure as hell would never lose you again. Confessing his love, he wanted to get you back. He wanted to get his girl back, and he did. He would forever be grateful for it.

****4 years later****

As you and Aaron celebrated your 3 year wedding anniversary, 8 years of being together, you were sat around the dinner table with Jack and yours and Aaron’s twins. Within 4 years, you and him had your twins, a boy and a girl, and countless memories with your family.

As you were looking through the photo album, there was a note that had slipped out. When you grabbed it, Aaron tried to grab it from you. You opened it and read, “How You Get the Girl T. Swift”

“Aaron Hotchner. You did not win me back by acting out a Taylor Swift song in real life.”

Aaron smiled and took the note back from you. He kissed you, leaving Jack scrunching his face up and the twins clapping.

Aaron said, “That’s how it works. It’s how I got the girl.”

Tagging: @matcha70sugar @rosesinmars @imnotsiriusyouare

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds fanfic #jack hotchner #aaron hotchner #HAPPY HOTCH HOURS #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner x female reader

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livingemkayde · 9 months

Text

ch vi. bruises

joel miller x f!reader x unrequited!tommy miller (no outbreak AU)

chapter six of chaser

warnings: 18+ minors please dni. ooof okay where to start, smut unprotected p in v, mentions of bruising from sex? fighting like actual real life fist fighting, rough but sweet sex, grinding, lowkey some cockwarming?? kinda unwanted kissing, tommy being annoying and somewhat overbearing, and unwanted touching, but not sexual. caroline. just, caroline. because she deserves her own warning for this one. no use of y/n.

summary: everything comes to a head at tommy's birthday party.

a/n: this is genuinely the longest part/chapter thing i've ever written so enjoy. tommy is really annoying in this one, im still deciding if he's going to have a redemption arc. sorry this took so long. as always, i love you all so much. MY TUMBLR LITERALLY SHIT ITS PANTS WHEN I TRIED TO EDIT THE TAGLIST SO IM SORRY IF YOU GUYS GOT TAGGED LIKE 400 TIMES.

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

“What’s goin’ on?” Joel says, almost a whisper. You’re still not sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy. You can't take your eyes off Tommy’s gaze. From the looks of it, Joel’s question makes Tommy more angry and way more confused. “Joel,” you say, trying to look for any indication in Tommy’s face that he’s not going to go bat shit crazy. “‘S fine. We’re okay.” But Joel doesn’t listen. Because he’s Joel Miller and maybe you can’t see it right now, but you can hear the concern dripping off his tone—an indication that he won’t ever leave. Not now. So he stalks towards you both and you try to shake your head no, and he doesn’t listen.

You can almost remember it like it was yesterday.

A few weeks back, the first time you invited Tommy in for a drink after dinner. Sarah was asleep back at the house, Joel was doing — god knows what. The sun was set, the mosquitoes were probably out, and there was a quiet, even maybe too quiet silence when Tommy pulled up to your house.

He had asked what the rest of your plans were for the night.

You had said nothing much, not knowing it was an invitation — he stayed till 2 a.m. that night.

But it was okay. Because he made you laugh and you enjoyed his company. He was interesting. Tommy told you about how he never wanted to go into contracting in the first place. About his broken bones, his all time biggest regrets, how he was smitten with his old high school flame turned mean cheerleader until graduation.

It was the first time you ever realized he was — well — his own person in the sense. Not just Joel’s younger brother. But Tommy. Tommy Miller.

Maybe in another life Tommy might’ve even been good for you. A perfect pair — a match. He wasn’t mean and brooding and he certainly didn’t have 12 years on you.

And he made you smile. And he was genuinely—genuinely interested in your life. Your post grad prospects, college, books, and even how you played soccer just like Sarah when you were younger.

But when he leaned in that night, closer to you than ever before. You froze. Like genuinely frozen, and you couldn’t even dare to look down to his slowly approaching lips, let alone how his arms caged you in.

“First kiss?” you remember him asking.

You had just stuttered out nonsense, not wanting to breathe too hard and run the risk of pushing your lips flush with his.

“I — um —” you nervously laughed. You couldn’t even think—not in the way you should—not when the first person that comes to mind when Tommy says, kiss is his brother.

He had leaned in closer then—more tentative. Like you were a scared deer in headlights or a frightened kitten and he was inching forward, wanting to move closer.

But you didn’t really do — anything.

And he had pulled back a bit, gave you a teasing look and a ruffle on the head and continued with the conversation.

In all honesty you were scared that he might've been inching forward to kiss you. The small fear settling through a slightly erratic heartbeat and nervous laughs.

You were scared then, but can’t really remember the last time you’ve felt this kind of fear.

Hurt, discomfort, shock, maybe.

And although it was being quickly replaced with anger, you don’t remember this feeling — this kind of fear. Not even the kind you get from watching a scary movie — where you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins and then dissipating when the screen goes dark, and the lights turn back on and all you have to worry about is if the scary nun from the big screen will appear in your dreams.

You can remember all the last times you’ve gotten mad, sure. Mainly at the Miller brothers.

But never fear — well, not until right now.

Because whoever that Tommy was is definitely not the same guy staring back at you right now, with a bruised fist, an angry look swirled with hurt marked permanently on his face and one emotion that you can definitely place behind his eyes — jealousy.

Some hours earlier.

You spread colorful tablecloth over the mismatched tables in Joel’s backyard. The string lights are being hung up, Joel stands on a ladder towards your right, the sound of a hammer echoing through the small backyard.

You pick your phone out of your back pocket, checking the time. You also find it in you to check Tommy’s texts again, but no other messages have been sent since last night. You look down at your phone — at the messages — and sit against one of the tables.

Yesterday:

You: can we talk in person?

Tommy Miller: I’ll see you tomorrow at the party?

You hadn’t seen the text until this morning, when Joel and you found it in yourselves to get out of bed, have a shower, and start setting up for the party. So when you saw it, you would be lying if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat.

You’re a bit nervous at the prospect. You did not want to talk to him at his party—honestly just trying to text him so that the air would be cleared for the party.

But his words echo in your mind.

“Just think ‘bout it before you say no.”

You let out a cursed sigh.

Tommy had to know. Right?

If he knew the dreaded ‘no’ was already braced on your lips he had to know. That this thing between you and Tommy would never work out. That you’re way better as friends. That it would ruin everything — the dynamics of it all — that you were smitten with his brother and you guys had just slept together for the second time without Tommy’s knowledge and that—

“Alright?”

Joel stands in front of you, dipping his head to see a scowl marked on your face. You quickly — maybe even too quickly — forget about the messages, hell, forget about Tommy.

Because Joel looks handsome. He’s always handsome, you’ve thought since the moment you met him at the bar. There’s something intoxicating about him, his arms, the curve of his neck. His brooding nature does him justice — a uniqueness about him that makes you want to uncover more, learn more, see more.

You remember last night—very vividly through small ebbs and flows of sleep. The moonlight seeped into your skin as you both rolled around in gray sheets.

It makes your cheeks heat a bit at the thought.

You remember everything. Every little detail. You don’t think you’ll ever forget.

You tuck your phone back into your pocket.

“Yeah, sorry. ‘S just…” you trail off, he nods his head in understanding, coming closer to you.

He braces his hands on either side of your body, caging you in. Your faces study each other’s mere inches apart.

“Tablecloth givin’ you trouble?” Joel teases in a soft whisper, looking down at your lips, then back to your eyes.

“Funny,” you say with a grin and run your tongue over your lips.

“You need help, baby, all you gotta do is ask.” Joel’s small smile plays on his lips for a fleeting second. You miss it as soon as it’s gone.

“Duly noted. But I’m not the one who’s been hanging up string lights for the past hour.”

He pats your ass a bit, teasing you and pushing out a playful sigh.

“Perfection takes time.”

Joel’s beginning to dip his head to kiss you, but you find it in you to bite back.

“And yet the left side’s still lower than the right,” you whisper, pulling your head back slightly. He turns quickly to look at the fence, but gives you a harder slap on your ass when he realizes the lights are, in fact, straight.

Joel chuckles, pushing off from the table, you turn back around to continue fixing the cloths, and look back at him over your shoulder.

He’s looking back at you too.

“You’re killin’ me,” he says, and you smile to yourself when you turn back around.

You look around the backyard and check your phone for the millionth time since the party started. You can hear Sarah running around, screaming a bit while jumping into the pool. But your brows furrow when you find that Tommy still hasn’t texted you.

You spot a tuft of red hair swinging through your vision and spin to find Janet Baker squeezing through the crowd.

“Janet!” you say, approaching her quickly. You’re happy to see her—Tommy didn’t invite many people you’re familiar with.

“Hey, Doll. Thanks for the invite!” she says, pulling you into a quick hug, but when she sees the look on your face, her mouth drops into a frown. “Sweetie, you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I—Tommy didn’t…I don’t really know anyone here,” you reply while sheepishly looking around the small, bustling backyard. It’s the kind of feeling you try your best to avoid. Like everyone is in on some secret joke that you have no clue about. Or everyone knows each other and you can’t even put faces to names because you don’t know any names—like right now.

“‘S fine—I’m happy to see you made it,” you let out a defeated chuckle.

“‘F course, baby. Charlotte really wanted to see Sarah,” she nods towards the girls in the pool, Charlotte’s red hair looking strikingly similar to the woman standing in front of you. Janet seems to be on her second drink of the afternoon, you saw her tipping back a solo cup out of the corner of your eye earlier.

“What are you drinking?” you ask her, nodding at her cup.

“Someone brought a fancy lookin’ wine I popped open,” she says, giving you a sly smile. “Why don’t we get you a drink? You’ll like this,” she says, you don’t have much time to react, she’s already pulling you towards the drink station.

You both settle into a comfortable silence, looking around the backyard while Janet pours your drink.

“So,” she says, giving you a wink.

“So…” you echo, sending a nervous laugh her way.

“Who’s that girl,” she nods towards Caroline while passing you a cup, you take a big sip, Janet fills it back up to the top without a second glance.

“Caroline,” you say looking at her and Joel. They’re talking to some other people, a small group of them congregating by the barbecue.

“Caroline…” Janet tests out on her tongue, willing you to continue.

“Caroline—Joel’s,” you can’t help but chuckle. “date. I guess.”

“That bother you?” she says, finishing the bottle of wine while the two of you walk back towards the edge of the pool so she can watch Charlotte and Sarah.

“Nope,” you say, and it’s not a lie. Sure, it might be a little weird to see another woman clinging to his arm after yesterday. But you know now. And that’s all that matters.

“Joel can—” you laugh again, “—Joel can do what he likes.”

Janet stops walking suddenly. You tear your gaze away from Joel and look at her with a confused furrowed brow.

“Sweetie…” she says with eyes that look way too knowing for your comfort or peace of mind.

“Janet…?” you say, though her gaze just intensifies.

“You mean to tell me it happened since I last saw you?”

Your eyes widen, a shocked look crosses your face and you quickly try to replace it with a bad mask of confusion.

“W-what? I—”

“Don’t lie to me, doll,” she warns, and she looks like she really means it.

“Janet…” you say in a not as effective and halfhearted warning tone back.

“Don’t you dare,” she wags her finger—a final warning.

What has gotten into you and why can’t you find it in yourself to lie to this woman?

“Don’t te—” she gasps, “Janet, I mean it. Do not tell anyone.”

She shuts her half open mouth and makes the my lips are sealed motion across her face. You laugh while stealing a glance at Joel.

“I told you,” she whispers to you in a hush, joining your eyeline towards Joel.

You stay silent for a moment, just taking everything and everyone in—but at the same time just looking at Joel. when you finally break the silence you’re a bit shocked at your question. You’ve never talked about Joel like this with someone who actually knows him. Everything has always been a secret—like you were supposed to be ashamed or something. You never were.

“How did you know?” you ask, hushed. You’re not sure she’ll even hear you.

“Would love to say it was intuition, sweetie—but—it was him. It was written all over his face.”

You stayed with Janet for the better portion of the hour, all through silent peaks at your phone to see if Tommy had texted you. When it was getting to the point where people were getting curious, you’ve just about had your limit.

You approach Joel quickly, you don’t miss Caroline’s stunned face but you really can’t be bothered with—that—right now.

“Joel?” you ask, pulling at his arm a bit, he excuses himself from the group and follows you towards the backyard's edge.

“Where the hell is your brother?” you whisper.

“He’s not here?” he asks, the same hushed tone also pushing through his voice at your question.

“No! I called him, but he’s not responding,” you pipe back while pulling out your phone. Though the lack of notifications from Tommy—just as before—tells you enough.

You both look at each other for a fleeting second. But the same worried look is probably etched on both your faces — fuck.

“This fuckin’ guy,” Joel mutters under his breath while pulling out his own phone and then putting it up to his ear.

You pace around the small area you and Joel are in, observing the unfamiliar faces.

“Nothin’,” Joel grovels, taking a peak over the fence towards the street to see if Tommy's truck has pulled up. “I’ll try ‘im again — just — you should mingle,” he says, still looking down at his phone.

“‘S fine. I don’t really know anyone here anyways,” you say absentmindedly, looking through your phone for Tommy’s contact and putting your phone up to your ear.

You hear yelling and shouting from the entrance to the backyard. You slowly lift your head, reluctant to tear your eyes away from frantic texts.

You spot him, in all his glory. Tommy Miller. Two hours late to his own birthday party—though he looks like he couldn’t care less, hugging old friends and new ones. He spots your eyes in the crowd and you can’t even be bothered to smile, a frown is almost permanently placed on your face—Late to your own birthday party?

He nods his head toward the house, a silent invitation to talk when he’s done greeting the guests. You nod back and turn to Joel, Tommy turns to everyone else.

“He’s here,” you say, pulling Joel out of his own phone, he does a double take towards the entrance and huffs out a groan.

“Goddamn idiot,” Joel says, running his palm over his eyebrow.

“I’m gonna go—” you say, nodding towards the house, towards Tommy.

“Yeah. Alright,” he replies, though he looks a bit concerned and unfocused, looking towards Tommy, then back to you, “You need me, ‘m there.”

“‘M not telling him about us on his birthday and It’s Tommy, Joel.”

Tommy—harmless.

Though Joel’s look sends a sweat to your palms for some reason. You don’t know why he’s worried.

It’s Tommy. It’s fine.

Right?

You hope as much as you make your way through the crowd. You beeline for the house and slip past the sliding doors into the kitchen where cups and bags of chips lay open and equally sprawled.

You can hear the door slide open and shut again behind you as you try and salvage the mess.

“Baby,” Tommy says, rounding the corner and coming close to you, “‘M sorry. The concrete guy was supposed to drop off the shipment tomorrow but he came today and needed a signature—”

“Tommy, it’s okay,” you almost have to will yourself to say. You also have to remember it’s his birthday.

He looks down.

“‘S okay. It’s your birthday. Happy birthday,” you reassure with a small smile.

“Looks great out there,” he says, fiddling with his phone in his hand.

“Thanks.”

You’re suddenly a bit nervous. You hadn’t really thought about everything that had happened when Tommy being late to his own birthday party was blanketing all the drama. But he’s here now, and you have no idea what to say. Maybe it would be better to not say anything at all—not address the fact that he asked you out, or you and Joel. But that guilty gnawing feeling eats you alive the longer you stand in silence.

“Joel helped you?”

“Yeah. I went shopping yesterday and dropped off the stuff here then we set it up this morning,” you say, nodding towards the backyard and then your car parked out front.

“You went shopping on your own?” he almost sounds offended.

“I wanted to go on my own.”

Tommy doesn't look convinced.

“Really, T. ‘S fine,” you brush off, leaning back against the kitchen counter and crossing your arms. He stares at you from the other side of the kitchen.

“Caroline here?” he asks, a hesitant look on his face as he switches from looking at the ground to your face—almost like he’s looking for a reaction.

“She’s out there somewhere,” you nod, keeping a neutral face masked with a small smile. “You should mingle. Just wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

But he doesn’t move, he just keeps fiddling with the case on his phone again, looking down to the floor—his feet.

“I— you said you wanted to talk in person.”

Shit.

You both look at each other, waiting. A game of cat and mouse.

“It can wait, T. Enjoy your party,” you say, gesturing to the crowd outside.

“Is it about—is it about what happened Friday?”

“Tommy,” you say, almost warningly. This situation is shitty enough as is. You really don’t want to spoil everything—even if there’s nothing left to spoil.

He doesn’t say anything. His thumb fiddling with his phone is the only sound coming from inside the kitchen. He looks at you, waiting for you to continue. Almost unbearable. You crack way quicker than you’d hope to last.

If he wants it like this, at his own birthday party, then so be it.

“Fine. I just—I wanted to…” you scramble for words but they jumble in your mind.

“I’m—” you fall short again. “About what you said. What you asked me. I don’t think that it’s…something I want. I’m—sorry.”

“You don’t think it’s something you want? Or you know that—”

“Tommy,” you say, giving him an awkward stifled laugh. Like he’s being childish with his response. Because he is. “I don’t—I’m sorry.”

He turns away from you suddenly, towards the window above the sink and just stares at it for a long time. You can see his chest puffing. When he finally turns back around, it’s different. It’s the Tommy you know.

“‘S okay,” He says.

Maybe he’ll get over it quickly—you hope.

“Are you okay? I’m—I mean I hope that this doesn’t change anything since I’m still gonna be around—” you lift your arm up to run a ragged hand across your forehead and through your hair, you don’t even notice that your shirt riding up, “— I just don’t want it to like—”

“What is that?”

Your eyes snap to Tommy’s, confused. You think he might be looking out the window again but his eyes trail to you, but lower. Like he’s looking at your hips—because he is. You’re still confused for a second, before examining your shirt, looking for stains or anything out of the ordinary. But you don’t find anything, your top spotless.

“What? I don’t—”

“No—” he takes a couple quick steps forward, into your space, you try to find his eyes—yours blown out with confusion and shock but his are trained and laser focused to your waistline.

“What’s—” he tries to pull up your shirt, you shove him back out of reflex. “You’re hurt, what happened t’you?”

He almost pins down your hands to see your skin under your shirt, dipping his head to look at your waist and hips and you suddenly know. You know there are hand shaped bruises littered across the skin of your waist, turning it deep purple. Handprints that match Joel’s exactly—almost like they’re burned into you. You saw it this morning. It’s why you didn’t bother to put on a swimsuit and decided to keep a top on instead.

What’s even worse is you know Tommy saw it too.

“Tommy!” you’re yelling now, fighting his grip.

You slip up, unable to get a good hold on his wrist like he now has on yours and he pushes the shirt up to reveal the bruises.

“What the hell is that?”

“Fucking—get off!” he backs away with your second shove, a different kind of look on his face. “Jesus,” you huff out, yanking your shirt back down.

You both stand there. A pregnant silence between you. You can almost hear the gears turning, he stares blankly. Putting it all together. Like maybe you’re not hurt, but you wanted it—wanted it from another man. Somewhere in the back of his mind he might keep wishing someone hurt you so he didn’t have to feel so betrayed. So when he asks, it’s like he doesn’t want to admit that it’s true—the quiet possibility of someone else in the picture.

“Who,” he says slowly, pointing down to your waist, “did that?”

“Tommy—” you say, but footsteps cut you off, you both turn your head to the entrance of the kitchen as Joel rounds the corner. He looks out of breath and his eyes flicker from Tommy and his finger pointing down at your waist then back to you.

“We alright in here?” Joel stands, hesitant, his fingers play with the bottom hem of his shirt in an anxious way. Like he doesn't know what he’s just walked in on—you’re not entirely sure you know the answer to that either. You aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy so you stay silent, waiting for the man in front of you to respond.

“Yup,” Tommy replies, too angry to be believable.

Joel looks at you but he doesn’t say anything. Not out loud.

No. You try to say with your eyes. We are definitely not alright in here.

“Joel,” you say, trying to look for any indication in Tommy’s face that he’s not going to go bat shit crazy. “‘S fine. We’re okay.”

But Joel doesn’t listen. Because he’s Joel Miller and maybe you can’t see it right now, but you can hear the concern dripping off his tone—an indication that he won’t ever leave. Not now. So he stalks towards you both and you try to shake your head no, and he doesn’t listen.

He stands beside you, putting a flat sprawled palm on Tommy’s chest and silently tries to push him backward. But Tommy breaks first, pushing Joel’s hand off him, staggering back while looking at you and Joel.

And maybe he gets it then, you think. Because Tommy lets out a deep chuckle—like you’ve got clown makeup on. Like he’s never seen anything more funny. He’s a lot of things but he is not fucking stupid. So he looks past Joel to your eyes. To your face, almost covered—ridden—in guilt and he can see everything.

“Really?” Tommy says, not sparing Joel a glance.

“You put your fuckin’ hands on her?” Tommy says, almost at a whisper which makes it all the more intimidating. You can see Joel’s back puff, his anger rising. But you also know Joel would never hurt his brother. Not on purpose.

But you’re scared. You’re really fucking scared in this moment because Tommy is entirely too worked up and you know whatever excuse Joel is going to say won’t help.

“Easy,” Joel says, his voice cutting through the tense silence.

You’re sweating. The hot summer of July in Austin getting to you. They stare at each other for a long time. Like at the kitchen table, like when you all first met. But this time, Tommy breaks, and his eyes flicker to yours, he takes a tiny step to the side so he can see you better.

“Is this why? Is this why you’re fuckin’—jesus, fuck. ‘S this why he went to get you a tire?” you stand, you can’t really say anything, your stunned figure doesn’t move.

“He hurt you,” Tommy breathes out, his voice almost breaking if he wasn’t so angry. You shake your head.

You both know that the bruises aren’t from hurt. That they’re far from it.

“He didn’t,” you reply.

“No, no, baby. He’s—you’re—” Tommy almost looks like he can’t believe it, shaking his head, switching between you and Joel. The look you give him shuts him up, and makes him back away, until Joel unclenches his fists and relaxes his shoulder a fraction.

“I didn’t really want to tell you like this, I was—”

“Fucking my brother?” he bites back, interrupting you.

That makes you a bit mad. You’re not in love with his attitude, nor his tone. It’s not like he has any right. It’s not like either of them do.

Joel moves to speak but you do it first.

“Don’t give me that,” you say, almost laughing, though the situation is not funny, not in the slightest. “We’re not dating, Tommy. We never were.”

Caroline strides in at that, looking at the scene unfolding in the kitchen. She stops short of the three of you, her mouth slightly agape. You roll your eyes, fucking perfect. Let’s just bring the party in here instead. You’ll give it to the woman. She has impeccable timing.

“Needed some napkins…” she trails off, holding the empty napkin stand in her right hand up so everyone can see. “I—I can come back.”

“Did you know?” Tommy turns to her, gesturing to you and Joel.

“Tommy,” Joel says from in front of you, a warning. Tommy ignores him.

“Did you know?” he asks again, Caroline stares back shocked. But she does consider it, rolls the idea around in her head before speaking.

“Them two?” Tommy nods. “Her?”

Okay. You really don’t love that tone. You silently chastise yourself for thinking she was nice at the bar when your first instinct was that she was a bitch—because she is. You were waiting for her snarky undertones or spoiled takes to show. You knew it was coming, you just didn’t know when.

“No, ‘f couse not.” She’s almost laughing, like it could never be possible. It hits you harder than you’ll ever admit. “She’s — you’re…young,” she says, looking at you.

Tommy gestures to you and Joel like he’s saying, well believe it, because it’s true.

Joel moves faster than you can comprehend. He’s got a tight grip on Tommy’s arm. He probably doesn’t even have to say anything, Tommy knows what’s happening. But Joel warns him anyway—again.

“Quit,” he growls. You’d guess this might be the point where Tommy usually backs down. But this situation is far from usual.

“Or what?” Tommy bites back. When Joel doesn’t respond he continues. “You gonna mark me up? Leave me all black and blue?”

Tommy doesn’t stop there, you try to move past Joel but he stops you, turns his head to you slightly, a hardened look in his eye.

“Oh, I forgot you’d probably like that, huh?”

Joel remains frozen for a couple fleeting seconds before whipping around and pushing Tommy into the back counter. You’re rooted to your place, you don’t even care that Caroline is still in the corner, holding the fucking napkin holder in the air.

“What’d you say?” Joel barks in Tommy’s face.

“Look at her fuckin’ stomach, dude!” Tommy throws the words in his face, pushing him back slightly and making a vague gesture in your direction, it causes your feet to move towards the brothers before you can think.

Joel backs off then, sneaking a tiny glance at you out of the corner of his eye, like he really is thinking about the marks he left on your waist. He had seen them this morning, ran his fingers over them too, and saw how the notches matched the curves of his fingers perfectly. But you kissed him, and told him it was okay. That it was more than okay. Maybe even whispered that you liked it between muffled groans. So when a glint of guilt flashes in his eyes it makes your heart break more than it already has.

“She said no,” Joel says, looking back at Tommy. A tense silence follows—like you’re not sure if Joel is going to continue or Tommy is going to bite back.

“Get back to your party,” Joel growls after a while. You bite your lip.

Tommy looks at Joel with unwavering eyes. His glance turns towards the window where he can see the bustling crowd—can almost hear the laughter. Then he looks down to his hand, outstretches it, undoes his gnarly fist, and when it curls back up again, you finally bite.

“Tommy!” you say, moving closer. But it’s too late. Joel’s figure knocks to the side and his hand instinctively grabs his face, his nose, his eye. Maybe the worst part about it all is that Joel doesn’t even look remotely surprised, or that he wants to fight back—he just stays there, a little hunched over when you yelp in shock and Tommy groans, shaking out a now bruised fist.

“Fuck,” you almost yell, your body doesn’t know what to do between bending down to see Joel’s face and looking at Tommy—at his face—because you don’t recognize him.

Joel almost huffs out a laugh, and to shut him up, to get him to bite his tongue, you speak again.

“Okay. We’re done here,” you say, pushing Joel towards the entrance of the house, towards your car.

And Caroline is there, pushing Tommy towards the couches and for the first time, you’re grateful for her.

The ride back to your house is silent after a short and quick bicker about who can drive. You think Joel might want to sit in the driver's seat so you can’t see the quickly forming bruises on the left side of his face but you make a decent argument, enough to settle him in the passengers—looking out the window.

You send Janet a quick text, asking if she can watch Sarah for a few hours. Brother emergency. Janet replies back and says the girls haven’t gotten out of the pool since you left. It makes you smile a bit, despite it all.

When you park in your driveway, you hop out quickly, Joel following closely behind. He waits there, right behind you, when you pull out your house keys, and waits when you unlock the deadbolt and waits when you push through the door.

“Make yourself at home,” you say, nodding towards the couches and dropping your keys in the bowl.

You disappear into the kitchen and brace your arms on the counter, your head hanging between your shoulders. You let out a deep, ragged breath and try to control your heartbeat.

“Fuck,” you mumble, shaking out your wrists, grabbing two advil from the bottle on your counter, a glass of water, and peas from freezer.

Joel’s sitting on the loveseat, looking down at his hands. You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either. He just takes the water and pills from your hands and swallows it silently. You extend the peas to him, he thinks about it for a while and when you shake them again, huffing, saying—just fucking take them. He finally obliges.

You get a good look at his cheek when he turns to set the water down on the table and you have to stop yourself from gasping.

“Joel,” you murmur, reaching for him, bending down, he stops you, grabs your wrist, then grabs your hand. But he’s gentle. Not like Tommy. Joel’s gentle.

“‘S fine,” he says, and winces when the peas touch his face. “‘M fine.”

You settle in between his legs, looking down at him. He’s got one hand on his face, holding the peas, and the other, wrapped around the back of your thigh. He doesn’t even want to look up at you. It breaks your heart.

“‘M sorry,” you say quietly, his hand on your thigh trails upward. He plays with the hem of your shirt and lifts it enough to take a peek at the purple that lies there.

He doesn’t say anything, just sits there, running a gentle, ghost-like touch across the bruises.

“He — saw it. I don’t…” you look down to your stomach. You can see the shape of his fingertips so clearly. It’s no wonder Tommy reacted how he did. “It was an accident.”

He doesn’t nod. Doesn’t shake his head. He tosses the peas onto the table and pushes the cotton of your shirt up further, to where he can see all of it—all the black and blue there.

“Are you mad?” you whisper, hesitantly, as he stares at his own hands, his own branding.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles.

“Don’t be,” you say, begging, “Please.”

“He did that cause—,” you breathe out, taking his chin in your pointer finger and thumb and getting your first good look at his cheek, “—it’s-’s my fault, I should’ve—”

“C’mon. Don’t do that,” he says, cutting you off, nipping your apology in the bud, “I should be the one who’s sorry, this is — I hurt you.”

You shake your head.

“You know that’s not—you know that I—” you stifle a short chuckle.

“That you what?”

You let out a couple hot breaths, looking down at him, the purple around his eye slowly taking shape.

“That I liked it.”

Joel bends forward then, and you gasp. The dull scratch of his beard is the only thing keeping your eyes open. He trails his hot breath across your stomach, and leaves gentle kisses on your sides, on your bruises.

“Joel,” you mumble, and you hate how your voice sounds so breathy, maybe even desperate. You tangle your hands in his hair, grasping at the nape of his neck he pulls you down, closer, so you’re slotted in his lap, straddling him. Joel pulls back and looks at your face, brushes the fallen hair from your eyes.

“I meant what I said,” you start, he furrows his brow, “Still—mean it.”

From the look in his eyes he knows what you’re talking about. The words you slipped into his ear last night.

‘S you, Joel — it’s-’s always been you.

“But if this is—if Tommy—” you cut yourself off, correcting your words, “If I messed it up—”

“Sweetheart,” he says. Your heart pulls, you almost put your hand on his cheek, but you see the rising skin and settle for his shoulder. “‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

“Are you sure?”

He pulls you down further, so you’re flush against him. He studies your eyes and rubs at your waist, your hips. It sends a little fire down between your thighs.

“‘M here—‘M…I’m right here,” he mumbles, and shakes his head. Like he’s telling you no to any silent thoughts of doubt that might be floating around your head.

And then he pulls your head down to kiss you.

It’s needy, and hot and everything you want at this moment. He’s everywhere and you can feel his growing arousal between your legs. You both needed this—you think. After everything, after—fucking—Caroline and Janet Baker and Tommy Miller. You both needed each other so bad that when you grind down onto him he lets out a little desperate groan into your mouth that spurs you on.

Joel slips his hand under your shirt and finds the hardened peak there. He pinches it and rolls it between his fingers, it sends your hips forward and suddenly he’s sitting up, and shucking your shirt off.

He grabs your hips and moves you against him, your most vulnerable spots grinding against each other. Giving you both blown out eyes and puffy lips and panting breath.

“Sh–it,” you gasp when your shorts catch on your clit perfectly.

“Pretty,” he says, grasping at your tits, at anything he can find while you grind against his length. “fuckin’—pretty like this.”

You claw at his belt and before you know it, he’s lifting you up so you’re on your knees and he’s pulling his pants past his hips. You get the memo and take your shorts off, tossing them behind you. When you sink back down onto his lap, you can feel his cock slip between your wet lips down there.

“Fuck, Joel,” you say, gliding along his cock, soaking it. You can feel all of him now—grinding along his hardness—the girth of him fitting perfectly between your swollen lips.

“Angel,” Joel pants out, through sloppy kisses. You look at him. He’s got a desperate look on his face. Like he couldn’t wait just like you. Not even to get upstairs to your bedroom or to get all his clothes off. Like he’s been wanting this all day. Just like you.

You move up and reach down, feeling the wet mess you’ve both made down between your legs. You find his cock, hard and wanting, and position it at your entrance. The head sinks past your walls, enveloping it somewhere deeper and you both groan at the feeling.

You sink down on him slowly, you’re by no means physically ready to take him. But you can’t wait any longer. He kisses you, and down to your neck, making it easier to ease yourself down onto him, and when you finally reach the end, and you’re seated fully in his lap, you both gasp.

Your walls clench around him, eliciting a quiet groan from Joel somewhere near your neck. Your eyes roll back in your head, your forehead drops onto his shoulder. You both just sit there, waiting for the other to make a move.

It’s kind of like a game.

See how long you can both relish in each other’s warmth — the first person who moves loses.

Your walls tighten again and he lets out another groan, “Jesus,” he mumbles, nipping at your neck. You’re slowly adjusting to him, relaxing around him. It makes you shudder.

You realize he’s not really touching you. He’s got his hands on your thighs, but they’re just resting there. Not squeezing or gripping your hips like you know he so desperately wants. Maybe he’s scared, you think. From everything that’s happened today. From the consequences his touch barred.

But you didn’t care about the consequences. You liked his touch, needed his touch, just as much as he needed something to hold him back down to earth, anchor him to you—in you. And afterall, you just want him to feel good. Feel better.

“Touch me,” you gasp out, reaching down to his hands.

“Am touchin’ you,” he forces out, panting near your ear. His thumb absentmindedly pushes down on the skin of your thigh a fraction harder and then eases up, like he’s saying this is the best I can do.

“No, Joel,” you moan, rock your hips a little, moving first, moving frantically and suddenly, “touch me,” you say into his neck, reaching down to usher his hands to your hips, your waist, you.

Joel gets it then, the silent permission. The it’s okay, and grips you harder, but not as hard as you know he would like. It’s good enough for you because he moves your hips, rocking you up and down onto his length—having enough of the senseless grinding.

“Fuckin’ good—” Joel groans, your hands fly to his shoulders, his hair. “You feel good.”

Your legs grow tired, he can tell. You try your best, but you’re sweaty and tired and fucked out, and when he hits a spot deeper inside you that makes you moan out, louder than before, and you almost collapse onto him. He ruts into you a little. Meeting you halfway. Fucking you deeper—maybe even a bit faster.

Your legs ache and you feel a sheen of sweat wash over both of you. And Joel’s eye is fucked up, his cheek too. Tommy is sitting back at the house—or god knows where—with a possible broken hand, Janet baker is watching Sarah instead of you or Joel, Caroline is still back at the house, and everything is a fucking mess, but it’s so right. He feels so right. He’s — he’s right.

You’re close then, the coarse hair on him inching you toward your climax. He knows, he can feel it from the inside. You don’t even have to say it this time, your question for his permission. He can see it already braced on your lips but he shuts you up with a kiss, a sloppy one, where he sticks his tongue into your mouth and your walls tighten around him again.

“Yes,” he says with a moan into your mouth, “yes, yes—ah.”

“Fuck,” you say tightening around him, becoming breathless and boneless, but Joel holds you up. He always does.

He grips you tighter, like how you know he wanted to, and you relish in the feeling. His thrusts become desperate and you brace yourself on the back of the couch so he can rut up deeper, chasing after his own orgasm. You can’t really breathe. Not when he’s everywhere.

“Shit,” he says, rocking into you.

Joel cums hard, holding onto you, wrapping you up in his arms as he groans somewhere near your temple. You let it spread through you, the mess of it all. He keeps you locked in his arms, even when you think he might pull away.

He finally pulls you off him, when he says it becomes too much and you sit on his lap, playing with his curls. When you both settle from your panting you can’t help but ask.

“What are we gonna do?” you say quietly to him.

“I dunno,” he grabs your hand and gives it a quick kiss. The bruise on his face is turning an ugly shade of purple. And the peas have gone warm, creating a small puddle on the coffee table. And your phone keeps buzzing from the entryway.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says, running a hand on your thigh.

taglist! comment or message me if you want to be added. kisses!

@going-to-californiaxx @gintheginger @daddy-din @earthtogrogu @rooney-verse @ratoonstown @skysmiller @pedritosdarling @lovely-ateez @pluzo @spongebobspooploop @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @tsunamistorm123 @awhoreforalotofshows @disassociation-daydreams @violinchick @rhoorl

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bonefall · 4 months

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what’s up with BB! Puddleshine? been having thoughts about him recently lol. i find it funny that rowanstar grabbed this random child from the nursery and was like ‘bam here’s our brand new doctor and spiritual leader everyone’

(*shaking twelve year old in the background*)

You know what's pretty cool about AVoS, buried underneath the slog of it all? The thing I keep going back to about this arc, in spite of how annoying it is to be forced to say in ThunderClan as everything interesting happens off-screen?

The way that so, so many young warriors are horrifically traumatized by both the structure of the Clans, and the Kin that they turn to.

It's a shame that the Erins were so committed to the idea of the Clan social structure NOT being the problem, because this whole arc is a perfect time to show how flawed it structurally is. LET these kids have a point, that maybe they were rebelling against something broken, but Darktail was a malicious actor who exploited their naivety to serve HIS ends.

A recap of what's happening in BB!AvoS before I explain my intentions with the Puddy Boy;

The big problem that I want Rowanstar to display is a problem that ALL the leaders of this time period also have. Commitment to Clan rivalry.

After Firestar was killed in AVoS by Dark Forest warriors, Bramblestar considers diplomacy secondary as a tactic. "ThunderClan will not be bullied any longer. We have been too soft with the other Clans for too long; and they have humiliated us by taking advantage of our kindness." (Note: Harespring and Breezepelt being part of the assassination patrol is not revealed until TBC. For MAXIMUM drama reveal.)

He escalated a border dispute that Firestar had worked closely and intimately with ShadowClan to resolve; a fight for a knoutberry patch on their border, just before Winter.

After Russetfur died in this painful battle, Blackstar backslid hard from his redemption arc. This caused the Thunder/Shadow alliance to dissolve towards the end of OotS, ending a friendship between the two Clans that had lasted through all of Po3.

He was open to Sol's manipulation, and while Tawnypelt was trying to fight the Dark Forest trainees who took over ShadowClan in the meantime... Rowanclaw became deputy by organizing a patrol of cats to remind Blackstar how much he means to them.

So Rowanstar inherits the Clan with this in mind. ShadowClan solves SHADOWCLAN'S problems. "ThunderClan had a quarrel with WindClan, but decided that we were their enemy. Leaving ourselves open for betrayal was a mistake; if we cannot handle our own problems, we will inevitably succumb to them when our so-called 'allies' don't come to help." (Note: he isn't completely wrong. His words are borderline prophetic for what's about to happen.)

Onestar has a smug chuckle at this. Since taking leadership, he's been appealing to the strongest, hardest members of his Clan. Those who once tried to kill him for his "weakness" in the Civil War. The "lesson" ShadowClan learned is one that he's known since the day Onewhisker died and Onestar was born, on the night of that sabotaged muirburn. "That so-called peace was always a farce. We are warriors of the four Clans; it was always going to come down to honor, and putting ourselves first. My WindClan isn't foolish enough to pretend like ThunderClan ever acted in anything but their own, hidden self-interest."

And Mistystar respects the direction Bramblestar has taken his Clan in, and approves of the "honesty" that the Clans are now showing. "As the branches of the honeysuckle fight and win the light for themselves, sometimes there are beautiful flowers that die in the shade. We can mourn the end of an era, and prepare for a future that will be made all the sweeter for our shared struggle. This is the way of the Clans, and StarClan's solemn light shines upon us all." (Note: god I love writing Misty's speeches)

In the family tree reworkings, Rowanstar is now the brother of Littlecloud. Sons of Brokenstar, honor-sired for Newtspeck.

Littlecloud... is suffering from early onset Alzheimer's.

He didn't want to choose an apprentice after Flametail's horrible death, heartbroken and stressed out, especially when he couldn't reach his nephew through contact with StarClan.

He can't remember, anymore, that Flametail was freed. He keeps forgetting this, over and over

He keeps ending up in different times of his life, where he's best friends with Cinderpelt and still calling Leafpool by her pre-Honor Title name, where he's inventing a mobility device for Wildfur, where he's still escaping the plague and before he knew his mentor caused it, where he's on the Great Journey...

Rowanstar is in a lot of pain, watching his brother forget so many things, scared and confused half the time. He doesn't want to believe that this is really the end, or that... many of these cats are now so young they can't recognize the various eras that Littlecloud is finding himself in.

Puddleshine and Slatefur are going to remain in Pinenose's litter. Either Lion or Birch MIGHT get shuffled to another one; and ALSO the shuffler might survive the Kin. (SO voice which one you want to survive, if you have a preference!)

SO, Violetshine has either two or three adopted siblings... plus another.

Pinenose's oldest surviving child is Happypaw. Happy is the half-sibling of Puddle/Slate-- the death of Weaselkit in the Great Battle caused his parents (Pinenose and Owlclaw) to break up.

(this is why I'm thinking about just reducing the litter to Puddle/Slate, so Violet has three major adoption-siblings to remember instead of four.)

And now we're ready to talk about Puddleshine.

He isn't the first young cat to be shoved into an extremely high-pressure position because of a Cleric becoming incapacitated. Kestrelflight was also forced to become the holy speaker of his people when he was far, far too young, after Barkface died in TNP. He dealt with this obediently, with only Jayfeather ever really being able to get him to think about it in a different light.

Unlike Kestrel, Puddlekit did voice that he was interested in becoming a Cleric, in BB. But he was too young to be properly making that choice, to know what he was getting into. He mentioned it practically offhandedly, and BOOM Rowanstar had rolled him into the position.

But Puddlepaw has a deep sense of responsibility. "Wise beyond his years"-- likely because of how tumultuous his home life was.

His mother's oldest child, Happypaw, was openly a bully of his half-siblings. Pinenose distanced herself from him as a result, causing Happy to be closer to Owlclaw, who was still not over Weaselkit's death.

But Puddle's Ba Spikefur is not a cat who handles his kit's emotions well. Instead, he encourages ambition, tells him to get back at his half-sibling by being more influential than that twerp could ever be.

Puddle will often go to Violet, the new POV, to vent about these things.

And one thing he mentions to her is how amazing Kestrelflight is, when he gets to meet him at the half-moon conferences. He learns SO MUCH from him, it's like he GETS what he's going through...

Puddle doesn't even feel sure that Littlecloud knows what he's doing anymore. If he's learning the right information at all.

But Rowanstar won't DO anything about Littlecloud-- and he CERTAINLY isn't about to let Puddlepaw go train under someone else's Cleric.

As a result of this, Puddlepaw becomes a VERY important member of Sleekpaw's little group. He wasn't one of their friends to begin with, buuuuut...

When he sits to chat with Sleekpaw and Needlepaw, with Happypaw good and far out of earshot, she makes a lot of sense.

A LOT of it.

ShadowClan is run by old men who don't know what they're doing. Rowanstar is too emotional to make good choices. Puddlepaw, barely even old enough to begin apprenticeship, is running all the medicine for an entire Clan.

And, sure, he doesn't have much in the way of a connection to StarClan, no, just a little more spiritual than the average cat...

But who can point this out? If Littlecloud is slowly losing his mind anyway?

"It's not right, how much pressure's on you," Sleekpaw growls, "And it wouldn't be this way if we could challenge Rowanstar. You should be training with Kestrelflight right now."

"But we're dealing with the shells StarClan dealt, and the Clan is looking to you now," Needlepaw points out on behalf of her friend, "You have much more sway than you know."

This time around for BB, Sleekpaw starts as a young hero. She's right. Rowanstar should be challenged, his emotions are affecting the ENTIRE Clan, and Puddlepaw is in a bad position because of it. Needlepaw is like her best diplomat, surely to become her deputy someday.

They would have made an excellent set of leaders for ShadowClan. But they trusted the wrong person, and were exploited. When Darktail and The Kin came to the lake, they were swept up by it, and WindClan began an embargo.

Puddlepaw eventually oversees the Yellowcough Outbreak, and at first just thinks it's Greencough. He has no idea about strains, or the special types of Color Cough that Clan cats have historically dealt with. Even when he finally does learn it's not JUST Greencough, he's powerless to do anything about it. A lot of cats die because of the lack of mullein.

After that, with ShadowClan so weak and the Kin so strong... he's one of the cats who calls for the merge. The most important one, in fact, leveraging his position to say that this is StarClan's will.

Sleekwhisker and Needletail were right all along, and he's happy to stick it right into everyone's faces. Onestar's tantrum of an embargo killed his Clanmates, Rowanstar stopped him from properly training, he's been under pressure from the time he was small with Littlecloud not fit to be a mentor, and he's ready to welcome in ShadowClan's new era as something that is not a Clan.

...unfortunately, it turned out to be the wrong choice. Not because his thought process was wrong. But because Darktail had other plans in-mind.

#Also I did decide on it being early onset alzheimer's for BB!Littlecloud specifically #It means a lot to me... my great-grandmother had it in her last days. And it's very likely I'll get it someday too #and the line that leads from her down to me #it scares me. So I want to explore it. For myself #especially in such a terrible situation like this #BB!Puddleshine #obsessed with all of these children making big choices for their Clan and the way it's going to make them turn on their IDEAS #They were right. They were right to be mad at what they were mad at #But it was a bad actor who ruined it.#If I have to deal with a born-evil foreigner in BB. Then I'll lean into it. I'll reveal he wasn't such an outsider after all.#And I'll show that the xenophobic backlash was the WORST possible route for all of these cats to take #and yet... they do. They attack the one thing they felt they had control over #When the truth is that it wasn't their fault.#BB!Rowanstar #Better Bones AU #BB!AVOS #Their biggest mistake was being mislead. I hope Puddsy realizes that when he looks at Shadowpaw #Kindness for himself through kindness for another.

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snowyh2o · 3 months

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Dumb late night Hazbin ideas:

Ok, so hear me out. What if, Alastor gets a redemption arc? But it happens so slowly and unnoticed that by the end of the series you just turn around and find out that he’s already been redeemed and no one has any clue how it happened.

Alternatively, AU where the hotel’s very presence forces redemption on everyone who stays there whether they want to or not and one day Alastor wakes up and wonders if he should let Vox broadcast his shows uninterrupted that day before promptly glitching out in absolute horror at the thought. And then absolutely going out of his way to decimate one of Vox’s broadcasts just to prove to himself that he’s still just as much of an evil bastard as he always is.

Cue multiple scenarios where Alastor is trying really fucking hard to be eeeeevil and then somehow utterly failing. Watching as he’s slowly forced into being a good person against his will, and knowing there’s nothing he can do to stop it. Oh he’s still just as petty and sassy and sinister as ever, but whatever edge he had ends up lost in the thought of perhaps he should do something special for Charlie and the other residents for their first month of the hotel opening and—GODS BE DAMNED!

No one else notices it, partly because he’s always toned down the Clearly Scheming Aura when he’s around them, but also because he’ll be damned if anyone of them catches on. Husk sees through his bullshit, but ends up with the wrong conclusion and Alastor is happy to let him think whatever about leashes and deals as long as he keeps his mouth shut, buuuuut maybe he’d been a bit too harsh on the barkeep. He should make up for it with some higher quality booze and— really, it’d be nice to have something that’s more to his taste than the stuff that’s usually kept around.

Of course, Alastor’s not the only demon being forced into becoming a good person, he’s just the only one who’s noticed it. Charlie, who is 99% of the time a good person, is absolutely convinced that the better than usual behavior of the residents is a result of her efforts in the hotel. Vaggie’s also already a decent person for the most part, and after that conversation with Husk, Angel’s improved by leaps and bounds. Nifty doesn’t notice anything’s off at all, and Husk just thinks his better mood and temperament in general is because the quality of his liquor’s gone up and the company really ain’t all that bad. Sir Pentious also hasn’t noticed anything, but agrees with Charlie that her efforts have been working.

And then the hotel gets attacked and Alastor discovers this wonderful loophole in whatever spell’s got him entrapped and absolutely decimates the attackers. He’s so gleeful about his discovery and the absolute beat down he gave out without feeling the need to pull his punches that he ends up cooking everyone dinner. Everyone else is understandably very weirded out by this. Alastor couldn’t care less.

Charlie: uh, Alastor? Are you feeling alright there?

Alastor: why Charlie, I’m doing absolutely wonderful! Thank you for asking.

Charlie: oh, that’s uh, that’s great to hear!

Charlie: …

Charlie: so do you mind telling me why you’ve decided to make dinner…?

Alastor: mmmm. Just in the mood for it, I suppose. It’s been a while since I’ve cooked for others, and I’m feeling rather— creative right now!

Alastor: tell me, should I include a portion of today’s unlucky patron into the stew? It’s a bit stringy, but the stew should soften it right up!

Charlie: oh uhm. How about we don’t include any demon parts into the food?

Alastor: *raises eyebrow*

Charlie: I mean, we don’t know where it’s been! He could have had all sorts of diseases inside him. It’d uh, ruin the food if we added…. Bad meat? *nervous smile*

Alastor: mmmmm, fair enough.

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glisten-inthedark · 4 months

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Ok hear me out!

Post war Drarry fic in which they work at the ministry and Yada Yada

But! The Malfoys are going through a redemption arc because I said so and Lucius struggles to understand all things muggle (trademark). Now, he doesn't become an angel and he's still deeply prejudiced and still has a mean streak a mile long, but he's trying so give him a break. (He's the one asking, not me).

As they do so, Harry watches as his preconceived notions of the Malfoy family go down the drain especially as he learns they do love each other.

As Draco and Harry become friends (and oh boy does Harry wish they were more and no Ron, he's not obsessing again!) He sorta gets adopted first by Mrs. Malfoy who always gives him the best biscuits ever (don't ever tell Molly that), and makes him tea when he's under the weather.

And then suddenly and out of nowhere Mr. Malfoy and him are playing wizard chess while Harry tries to explain what a toaster was to no avail. It was fun watching Lucius get frustrated by it, though.

Suddenly, Harry is also the one receiving chocolates sent from the Malfoys once a week, and he's also the one they invite over for dinner every chance they get and watching Mrs. Malfoy go on and on about finding Draco a lovely witch to marry makes his skin boil.

But then once Draco comes out as gay, he was expecting for hail and hellfire but instead he got Lucius saying they could find a prestigious wizard for him to marry and somehow the idea of Draco with some other bloke was even worse the idea of him with a woman.

At first, Harry thought he didn't stand a chance because he wasn't the right gender, turns our Draco did like men, but not him and that was way worse.

But Mrs. Malfoy and Mrs. Weasley somehow also become quite close and Harry may or may not have heard a conversation between them once while under the invisibility cloak as he finds Narcissa also knows what is like to lose a child. According to what he heard, the Malfoys struggled to conceive and Narcissa suffered through multiple miscarriages and through a still birth. As these two form an unlikely alliance, they decide that Harry and Draco should be together because I too said so.

So now they are meddling while Harry is forever salty that Draco doesn't want him, somehow got adopted by two very distinct families, has to deal with an constant confused Lucius that never knows what in the world is a blender and why does he think the idea is so fascinating and with a Ron who's very frustrated with everyone

#drarry #hp #draco malfoy #harry potter #lucius malfoy #narcissa malfoy #draco x harry

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bonebabbles · 3 months

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I know that this is obvious, cliche, and has been said before many times about many aspects of DOTC as I go through this, but... the most fitting words that I really have here is that this book sucks.

Path of Stars SUCKS. It's a ton of fanservicey scenes trying to pull at your heartstrings about Gray Wing's relationship with his shitty brother, with any lasting anger that the cats had towards Clear Sky drying up now that he's a father. again. He addresses NOTHING about the abusive behavior he CONTINUES to display, and it torments Star Flower with torture and premature labor for cheap drama.

And worst of all, WORST of all, is all this bullshit about how Slash is "Truly Evil" to make Clear Sky, and The Settlers, look better. Slash is JUST evil. NOTHING else. He has NO other traits besides that he hates love and friendship.

He pins a pregnant woman to the ground and licks her face while taunting how she was supposed to be his mate but he'll murder her at the end of the last book, then starves her as a hostage in this one,

He's sending out massive gangs of rogues to forcefully steal meat from The Settlers,

He has hatred "deep in his bones" and "needs to find reasons to justify" that, as if being evil is just part of his nature and he's never satisfied unless he's hurting someone else,

He wants to make The Settlers pay, just because they seem happy, like some kind of Care Bears villain,

And it's concluded, as Gray Wing snuggles up to his second wife, that,

It's setting me to a simmer. After this WORTHLESS arc has spent so long excusing and downplaying cats like Clear Sky, who has the highest body count in the entire series, tossing a redemption death at Tom the Wifebeater, and forcefully shoving Thunder into an arc about forgiving and being happy for a man who CONTINUES to attempt to manipulate him.

What it says really sets Slash apart from all the "not bad people" is love. Because he is so evil, he can't know what love or happiness really are, and no one could ever want to to see him.

You know, abusers are human beings? We understand this??

They don't crawl out of Hell one day, sniffing for happiness in the air and making a beeline towards the nearest vulnerable person. They often DO love their victims, and can even be truly loved in return, but that doesn't mean they didn't HURT them. That doesn't mean that what happened to you wasn't abuse.

REAL abusers don't act like Slash. They act like Clear Sky. Justifying their actions, using love against their victims as a manipulation tactic, sending them on guilt trips and using their leverage to control their target. But the writers decided to make this character out to be so evil, so unjustified, SUCH a perfect hate sink, so that they could make the realistic depiction look okay.

And... it makes Slash offensively boring. NO ONE remembers this fucking character. He has NOTHING going on. He only manages to bully the main characters for a single book before being driven off.

He's nothing. This book is nothing. It's killing me.

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xerith-42 · 4 months

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Some Slightly More Coherent Thoughts about Void Paradox

Riveting title, I know, but this is the quality content I'm sure... 50 of you signed up for? When the fuck...? How are there so many of you?? And in spite of that title, this post is still long as fuck

Anyways I finished Void Paradox and it sure made me feel a certain way. [Cut to footage of me literally screaming anytime Laurance showed emotion in the series]. Gotta say, as a long time Laurance fan, this is really nice to have. I've been going on my tirades about how Jess ruined Laurance for the sake of Aaron, and how Laurance never really bounced back from this character assassination, but I wasn't entirely right. He sort of bounced back?

Well, we got this. I still would have liked Laurance in Love-Love Paradise but I guess I'll take him in this series. And honestly, it's the best Laurance content I've gotten that isn't fan content since... well, since I first watched the show back in 2015 when I was a literal fetus. Every time after I've gone back and watched as Laurance got written poorly from honestly really early episodes sometimes (looking at you Episode 65), and had to deal with the unfortunate truth that he was essentially unimportant to the story Jess decided to tell with both her series, despite being the main character of one of them.

It's so refreshing to have quality Laurance content, and we got a variety of it in this show. He's so expressive, so alive, so emotional. I've always loved Laurance because surprise surprise, the men in my life weren't always the most emotionally vulnerable, so I latched onto fictional men who were as a coping mechanism! Yayyy! And Laurance has always been a very emotionally vulnerable character, at least in the beginning. It's part of the tragedy that is his character arc in Season 2. That Laurance is usually vulnerable, that he's the one who's always willing to talk about his emotions, but the calling is making it harder to open up, and the world has only become crueler to men like him who dare to feel too much.

Wow I just keep sliding into depressing content in this post, I'm trying to praise Laurance's writing in this series. Because it's good. I have my problems with Void Paradox as a whole, but as a showing for my favorite character in the entire Aphverse, a chance at redemption, it's fantastic. As I said Laurance is so expressive in this series, largely thanks to Sebastian Todd being an absolutely phenomenal voice actor who clearly knows and cares about this character. His performance is absolutely excellent and a great high note for this character to go off on.

I cannot emphasize how much I adore every little thing about Laurance's portrayal. The flirtiness, the smug bastard energy, the very sincere and open care, that one scene where he gets super embarrassed and then whimpers that I haven't listened to like eighteen times. The whole thing is great. His dynamic with this alternate version of Aphmau is so good, it's so great to see him bounce off of other characters. I just love it so much.

That scene where he realizes that he's in a similar scenario to the Nether and literally instantly jumps to "If it comes down to it, let me sacrifice myself," I SCREAMED AT THIS. The whole series whenever he angsts over his old world I scream, but that line really hit me. Fuck whatever you say about Laurmau in every universe, the universal truth of Laurmau, nay the universal truth of Laurance is this;

"I would sacrifice myself so you could live in every universe."

That's Laurance! That's Laurance with literally anyone you want!! This is the best characterization Laurance has ever gotten. It's consistent with his character, and I love the fact that Mod Aphmau doesn't even let him finish his consideration of self-sacrifice, she just shuts it down and it's a great contrast to what Laurance is used to. I adore how that's what he jumps to, I adore the fact that he's as clueless as I am about the lore this season, I love the rivals esque thing he's got going on with Jaiden, that was fun. Lotta potential there. This was just a good time. I cannot emphasize how delightful Laurance was in this series. How his delightful presence is the most enjoyable thing in the series, and a literal blessing unto us all.

Wasn't it nice to feel good about an Aphmau series for like.. two minutes. Anyways here's the part where I get a little salty with Jess, as per usual. I'm not going to go too in depth on my problems with Void Paradox as a story because it's mercifully short and a lot of my complaints did come from a standpoint of not knowing any of the lore of Mod Mod World which might have hindered my full ability to understand the larger story.

I can however get VERY salty about the fact that I didn't even know Void Paradox was a thing that had Laurance in it until 2024!! It came out in 2018! How did this happen? Well the answer is very simple, the cause is the bane of my very existence. My Street Season 6 When Angels Fall. [I am shaking with rage]

I know you've likely read how much I can tear into season 2 Episode 95, and oh my Irene can I tear into that episode, but there's a similar but differently visceral emotion When Angels Fall makes me feel. Let's call it a sort of divine rage. And now, I have one more reason to hate it. Because Void Paradox, a series with actual quality content, was released at the same time as whatever the fuck that was, meaning it never had a chance.

For a bit of personal context, I briefly became active in the Aphmau fanbase when this season came out and during the time leading up to it. I had seen every season of My Street, and despite not being the biggest fan of where Jess took the series, I liked a lot of the characters and was invested in where they would go from here. I was knee deep in the My Street trenches when the many many different bombs dropped. Melissa dying but then she didn't but maybe she did and I literally spent hours arguing with people on this, Ein is turning everyone evil, there's a doomsday device, forever potion nonsense is happening, Travis' dad is evil maybe, Aaron is going insane, the multiverse is falling apart, and then Jess just killed the best character in the entire series, dare I say the entire Aphverse, dare I say the entire universe of existence as we know it--

It was a lot. And in all the chaos Void Paradox just... came out. It came out right before episode 9 of When Angels Fall came out. And anyone else who was there during the war... they know what that episode did to us. What it did to me. I wasn't the same after that episode came out. I felt like I had lost a part of myself. Something I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to get back...

And as a result, I and a lot of people didn't see Void Paradox. Looking at the numbers, Void Paradox struggled to get above 1 million viewers for most episodes, while the lowest viewed episode of When Angels Fall sits at a cozy 2.9 million as an established series. Void Paradox is objectively better as a series and deserves to have a second season. We deserve to explore more of the weird ideas Jess clearly had while making it, we deserve to know if a cure can be found, and we, or maybe just me and I'm feeling selfish here, deserve to know if Laurance is okay.

Jess has already taken one comfort character away from me. I'll be damned if she takes another.

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randomgentlefolk · 3 months

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CPC CHAPTER 168

I'M GONNA. I'M GOING TO.

Oh thank goodness Frederick has a cat-like flexibility. No but fr tho. The fact that he can fit in small places and just, fold his body??? He's a cat.

OH I AM SO DOWN TO GWEN, AURELIA, THE POSSUM, AND THE RAT PROTECTING FREDERICK LET'S GOOOOO. Also The possum and Gwen's sharp teeth and Aurelia's spit? Heck yeah. AND THEN AURELIA PROTECTING GWEN!! I'm so glad she had a redemption arc :')

OH. OH. I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS. Do you understand the amount of time I've been thinking about Frederick throwing a book at his bullies and Leland to the point I want to draw it but give up midway due to unable to draw anatomy of a person throwing a book? Yeah. And Frederick calling Leland a doofus LOLLLL.

Curtis not being able to see shit but still defending the aid kit station pretty well? That's what I call true skill. I mean he's really fighting multiple soldiers with armor and spear, and he's winning. But man his hand tho. I'm guessing those are from splinter and maybe some sorta swelling from holding the broom too long (idk how to describe it) or smth? Those has got to hurt...

HAHAHAHHAHAH I can't believe I didn't expect she would say that LMAO. Also she looks so goofy in the second image HAHA.

Nah the commander really went for Laverne too... Did Leland even agree on that?

Omg....Lorena catching Suzie....Lorzanna....

Leland's strength continues to terrify me. He just broke stair railing that seems to be made from marble, WITH HIS BARE HAND. I swear the Pastel palace is gonna need LOTS of renovation after all of these end.

"You don't decide what you want" oh bull I say, bull. Boooo Leland rotten tomatoes rotten tomatoes boooo nobody likes you go home boooo rotten tomatoes.

Eugh I'm surprised Frederick hasn't broken AT LEAST a bone with how much he got slammed and thrown hardly. The door broke bro the door broke. His spine...

Now that I think about it never have i ever with syrah would probably be wild XD

Okay at this point I am the most glad that frederick told cpc because otherwise many bad things would happen...

Wait a minute. What happened to spider Prez? I can't seem to remember...Did she pass out after breaking the door?

Wait so the Plaidypus isn't the royal plaid army?? Wait cause I'm kinda confused now :') if someone can explain it to me that would be great.

OH CRAP OH NO.

Shit, Frederick fr need a doctor asap. All those tossing around, the dusts, nah...

Okay this is sad and all but Syrah with the long nose made me giggle.

THANK YOU PRINCEL-WHOSE-NAME-HASN'T-BEEN-REVEALD!! Blaine really missed like ¾ of the war lmao.

I swear cpc is responsible for me learning new vocabularies daily.

OH??? BLAINE?? BLAINE??? I don't, I really don't know how to start.

First of all, there's a new meaning to this. So what I'm getting here, Blaine wants to be at the top because if he gets all the attention, Lance and Frederick won't be in trouble because he thought Leland wouldn't notice him much then. I suppose what's in Blaine's mind is, it's better to be neglected by your shitty parents rather than being noticed and verbally/physically abused by them?

Okay, I'm starting to get it. I'm the youngest sibling so I don't know if I'm getting it correctly, but this is what I get: "I will take all the abuse from our father so you, my younger brothers, can live a happy life without being notices by him."

Older siblings, amirite?

So, Blaine has been trying to protect his brothers but because Frederick keeps upsetting Leland and then making him proud, Blaine's plan keeps on being in shambles?

One thing I'm confused about though. Hear me out, Blaine most likely has golden child syndrome right? So how do we draw a line between which act is because wanting to succeed due to believing that's all his worth, and which act is from protecting his brothers?

Oh but he still owes Frederick and Lance lots of apologies though. Don't think I can forget what you said to Frederick in the dungeon, Blaine. That chapter broke me. To Lance, well, to be honest I don't exactly know what he should apologize about, but I feel like Blaine still has to? Sorry, I'm not making sense. Maybe apologize due to not talking to Lance and Frederick about his plan?? Oh man someone help me–

Imagine this tho: Blaine apologizing to Lance and Frederick for letting them get hurt by father, but then Isolde came and assured him that what Leland do isn't his fault. Haha I love to analyze this guy's mental health.

I hope he goes to therapy after this is all over. The plaid princes really need a lot of therapy. Actually the whole plaid family need therapy.

Okay say goodbye to my professionalism for awhile.

OABDUANSUAKSBW BLAINE??? PROTECTING FREDERICK?? THIS IS LIKE A DREAM COME TRUE. LAMBCATTTT THANK YOU LAMBCATTT!!!!

Frederick looks so amazed and I won't blame him cause I WOULD TO. IF I WAS ABOUT TO DIE, And someone suddenly came to save me, then proceed to throw the bad guy and himself out of the window by breaking the window and letting the damn sun rise view come in. I. I would look like that.

Blaine looking at the sunrise and realizing the true meaning of life and contemplating what he has done. I love him so much you got this bro.

Also Blaine turns out to be strong! I remember headcanons of him being the weakest out of the three. I mean that could still happen, but the fact that he carried Leland in which who knows how much he weights, and threw him out of the window. Damn.

But they're still falling though, that's not good. I doubt Blaine will die for that matter. It would be wasteful. He barely had his redemption arc. I'm thinking either he uses Leland to break his fall, or Nell's premonition about the tent save him. But the forest is a little far though... Oh! Or maybe, because the pastel kingdom is full of hills, they would fall and roll down towards the tent! That's a possibility!

SHE'S WEARING RED. I REPEAT, SHE'S WEARING RED!!!! YOOOO I WONDER WHAT SHE DID?? I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER...which is in 20 minutes lmao

That's it for now. See ya next chapter!

Mono out! (But still in to hear your thoughts. Please actually tell me your thought on this because I NEED answers and theories. Also psychology analization will actually make me go insanely happy)

#cursed princess club #cpc #mono reviews

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marvel-starwarsfangirl · 16 days

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Why I Love Crosshair- A Story About Persevering

I talk about Crosshair so much on my blog. With TBB ending in a few days, I wanted to share with y'all why he resonates with me so deeply. This show and these characters have touched the hearts of so many in this fandom. I'm curious, which Batcher has resonated with you? Anyways, here we go!

Crosshair's hot. That's it. I'm a simple woman. Moving on.

He's really freaking cool- I'm not gonna like, seeing Crosshair make those trick shots has me on the edge of my seat. It's just so much fun to watch someone do an incredible skill whether it's dance, playing music, or in Crosshair's case, take out several battle droids with one shot. I love it.

His character arc- Crosshair is one of the most interesting and complex characters I've met in recent years. I'm not going to lie, it's refreshing to see a really well-written morally grey character. Crosshair's one and only loyalty is to his family (plus a few others). He will do anything for them. However, Crosshair isn't drawn to some bigger cause like Echo or Omega are. From my POV, it's something interesting to think about. What makes a good person? How far is one willing to go for someone they love? At what point does that loyalty and love turn selfish or self-destructive? These are all questions that Crosshair's character brings up.

I also appreciate the love and passion put into his character. Jennifer and the team took their time to give Cross a proper redemption. It wasn't as simple as "Crosshair just flips on a dime" or "he dies proving he still loved them." No. The change had to come from Crosshair. Crosshair had to be the one to make the steps towards coming home. It had to be his choice and his choice alone, not something that was forced onto him. I really appreciate that tbh. People are so complex and we all make mistakes. Crosshair made some pretty bad choices (not that he was 100% in control). Still, he had to figure things out for himself and when he was ready, he decided to come home.

His story- Crosshair's story is one of struggle and persevering in my eyes. "The Outpost" is one of the best depictions of what it's like to struggle with mental health. It's why I love it so much. I see a lot of myself in Crosshair. So often, it's much easier to just lie down and quit. But Crosshair doesn't quit. No. He fights. He fights so hard and in the end, he makes it. To see Crosshair come home after so long meant the world to me. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. You can and will make it. And he didn't do it alone. Omega continued to be a light in his life. Crosshair reminds me to never give up. Even when it all seems impossible, we need to keep going and there is hope for the future. When he meditates with Omega, I almost cried. That episode reminded me of my mom because she's constantly encouraging me and supporting me. She always tells me that I have to be the one to help myself. It's difficult and she will be there, but I can't just expect things to fix themselves. Similarly, Omega told Crosshair that he needed to help himself. I don't think I've ever related to a SW character as much as I have with Crosshair.

Crosshair has taught me so much about myself. Through him, I've learned that there's a lot going on in my head that I need to work on. I realized why S1 Hunter pissed me off so much. Because like Cross, there are times at home where I feel like no one listens. He taught me to keep going, to keep fighting, especially in times of great uncertainty. Crosshair and Omega's relationship shows just how special the impact of one person can have. I see their relationship reflected in my life in many ways. There's so much more I can say about Cross, but we would be here forever lol.

I am so grateful for Crosshair. I am so grateful for his story. He might be just a character, but he's really helped me tackle some rough times in my life. I love him with all my heart and will forever be thankful to TBB team for bringing his story to life.

Thank you DBB, Jen, Brad, Michelle, and everyone on TBB team. Thank you for everything ❤️

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb crosshair

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fantastic-nonsense · 3 months

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Hi! I was looking to see if you know of many comics with Batman's villains at the lead!? (Besides Harley and Selina, who've had multiple series and are pretty easy to find). Other than the "Joker" Novel and Penguin: Pain and prejudice, i couldn't find any. Any good suggestions for Joker, Ivy, Two-Face, or any other villian from the Batman universe?

the tldr is that Ivy has several, Two-Face has a handful, the al Ghuls have a couple, and everyone else has had a couple of single issues starring them.

In general, the Batman Arkham series functions as a Batman Rogues Gallery "Greatest Hits" collection. While most of the stories collected in these trades don't feature the rogues as a protagonist, they all explore the characters and their backstories/motivations and feature them in a starring role!

On principle, I generally refuse to recommend Joker comics. Clown man has enough stuff starring him and they're generally easy enough to find without me promoting him more than he already is. Also, to be honest with you I occasionally go out of my way to avoid stuff starring him because he's frankly bored me ever since DC decided to emphasize him as a psychopathic serial killer instead of a funny villain with a clown gimmick.

However, The Joker's Five-Way Revenge (Batman vol. 1 #251) is a fun read, Joker: The Man Who Laughs and Joker's Last Laugh are both good, and Batman: The War of Jokes and Riddles is decent as well. Another fun one that's a little out of the box is Superman: Emperor Joker.

Other than that...I generally recommend the following for Ivy:

Batman Arkham: Poison Ivy (basically an 'Ivy Greatest Hits' collection)

Batman: Poison Ivy (1997)

No Man's Land (yes, it's long. No, Ivy's not a 'lead'. yes, it's also ground zero for Ivy's redemption arc and features her in a major role)

Gotham City Sirens (2009)

Swamp Thing by Scott Snyder (specifically Vol. 2, Family Tree, and Vol. 3, Rotworld: The Green Kingdom)

Poison Ivy: Cycle of Life and Death (2016)

Poison Ivy (2021) by G. Willow Wilson (curently ongoing)

Ivy also pops up in Ram V's Catwoman (2018) run and pretty consistently in Harley's solo books after 2015.

For Two-Face (my beloved), read Batman: The Long Halloween and Batman: Dark Victory (which function as a double feature). Then read any of the following:

Batman: Faces (Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #28-30)

Batman: Two-Face (1995)

Batman Annual #14: "Eye of the Beholder"

Gotham Central, which has an extended Harvey-Renee Montoya subplot

Batman/Two-Face: "Crime and Punishment"

Batman/Two-Face: Face the Face (2006)

Two-Face: Year One (2008)

Batman and Robin (2011) 23.1: Two-Face

Detective Comics #1020-1022: “The Ugly Heart”

Two-Face: One Bad Day

And for a couple of stories that aren't Harvey-focused but feature him as a prominent antagonist...read Robin: Year One, A Lonely Place of Dying, and Batman: Prodigal.

For the al Ghuls, apart from the Batman Arkham collections you're primarily looking for Tales of the Demon, the Demon Trilogy (Birth of the Demon, Bride of the Demon, Son of the Demon), Batman: The Chalice, and Batman Annual #26 (the prologue to Resurrection of Ra's al Ghul, which is also fun). Two of Damian's Robin solos (Robin: Son of Batman (2015) and Robin (2021)) also prominently feature Talia. There are...certainly other options, if you want to read about the al Ghuls, but they're rarely well characterized in those (except Talia's LexCorp CEO arc; all hail Talia's Lexcorp CEO arc).

Clayface (the Basil Karlo version) prominently featured as a protagonist in Tynion's Detective Comics Rebirth (2016) run.

Everyone else...apart from stories where they're the prominent antagonist, there were several Villain takeover issues during the period of Batman and Robin (2011) when Damian was dead, Year of the Villain had a few issues focused on the Batman Rogues, and the One Bad Day series focuses each issue on a different Bat Rogue.

There are plenty of other stories centered on various members of Batman's Rogues Gallery, but hopefully this gives you a solid starting place!

#thanks so much for the ask! hope this is helpful #comic masterposts #dc comics #batman #batman rogues gallery #asks #bri's recs #poison ivy #two face #ra's al ghul #pamela isley #harvey dent #talia al ghul

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misrepresentedmorallygrey · 4 months

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PROPAGANDA

Rose Quartz Propaganda

"We saw her character arc in reverse!! We first saw all the good she did and then learned of her terrible actions in the past. If her story was told the other way around, it would have been a great redemption arc. Yes, she did some terrible things, but she had no choice. She did everything she could to stop the colonization of earth peacefully buy nothing worked. Blue and yellow diamond just didn't listen to her and when they did, THEY were the ones who made the zoo and shit. Rose wanted to free them but couldn't get to them after the war! And with the corruption, there's no way she could have known that'd happen. There's so many things she wanted to do but just couldn't. And with spinel, yes it was shitty to leave her alone for so long, but again, between running her court, running the rebellion, dealing with earth, she likely wasn't a very high priority and like with the zoo, there was no way to get to her after the war since the galaxy warp was destroyed. And don't forget, she was practically a child around this time. You're saying you didn't do any stupid, selfish, or harmful things as a kid? She learned from her experiences and grew, we just saw that growth in reverse, leaving us as viewers with a poor perception of her."

"Rose Quartz is Steven Universe’s dead mom. Initially, she’s set up as sort of an ethereal perfect figure who everyone misses and compares him to. Later we get to see more of her backstory and discover that she’s actually like, a person, with flaws, who has done some bad things, but she did those bad things largely in the course of trying to escape an abusive home life and save the people and planet that she fell in love with. It’s very clear that despite her flaws she was trying to do the right thing and that she deeply cared about others. Unfortunately, a woman who was not a Perfect Martyr was way too much for the Steven Universe fandom to handle. She pretty much set off the wave of SU crit blogs because these people were furious either that she had taken violent measures to solve her problems, that she hadn’t taken violent enough measures to solve her problems, or both somehow. Lots of “Why didn’t she just murder her abusive parental figures?” Lots of “She was evil for having a baby even though she knew she’d die in childbirth!” Lots of “She should’ve been able to protect everyone from a magic nuclear weapon with the power of love somehow.” Lots of “She shouldn’t have rebelled (even though not rebelling would’ve meant the destruction of Earth) because her abusers retaliated and that’s her fault.” LOTS of people drawing her as stick thin even though she was fat in the show. People treated her like she was on the same level or even worse than her abusive parental figures who were also the main villains of the show. It was unbearable to witness."

Katara Propaganda

"She's smart. She's powerful. She an eco-terrorist. She's got the ability to grow as a person. She's a victim of misogynistic fans who codify her as an annoying bitch (sadly not affectionate) cause she's the "mom character." And that's all she will ever be is "The mom character." She bested Azula and could blood bend your ass but won't cause she's chosen not to be a monster! But she's the annoying mom instead."

"if i have to hear ONE MORE *touches necklace* joke i’m gonna mcfreaking lose it"

"despite being one of the most well-written feminist characters of children’s TV, the fandom decides to define her based on her very realistic 14-year-old girl flaws. Ignoring her complex independent arcs and motivations, people love justifying their hatred towards her based on her one line directed at Sokka that he didn’t love his mother as much as she did. Which, if we’re being nitpicky, isn’t so harsh given that it was Katara who shouldered most of the burden of her death, as well as Sokka’s admittance that he doesn’t even remember his mother. Not to mention that ALL the characters make selfish mistakes given the fact that they’re all aged 12-15??? (Aang hiding Katara and Sokka’s father’s letter, anyone???) She really is an elegant breakthrough of the typical female character molds of “girl who is badass” and “girl with a crush on the mc who sits on the sidelines” and it’s so frustrating to see her get the most hate out of the Gaang"

Mabel Pines Propaganda

"[insert "i am 12 years old" comic]"

"You probably already know about this but back when the series was airing people were really pissed at Mabel because she was supposedly selfish. Yeah ok guys asking for a fucking megaphone to help a merman find his family was TOTALLY unreasonable. Dipper giving up one (1) "date" with a girl way older than him to save Mabel's pet was SO not worth it. (This is sarcasm btw. Side note a lot of these have to do with Dipper's crush on Wendy which is a whole other discussion.) And then there's the big one. Mabel causing Weirdmageddon. What people fail to realize with this is that 1) she was extremely stressed when she handed Bill the rift 2) she was tricked by Bill, a being that is A MASTER AT TRICKING PEOPLE, into thinking that she was being handed a magic solution to what felt like the end of the world to her, and 3) she was TWELVE. Not to pull out the "she is literally neurodivergent and a minor" card but do you really expect a 12 year old who's just been told that she's gonna have to face a big and difficult transition WITHOUT her brother who's been there for her all her life to make a rational decision? Y'all seriously fell for Bill's empty words in Sock Opera. Absolute bufoons. You would not survive Weirdmageddon."

"Oh wow, a preteen girl under extreme distress acts like a preteen girl under extreme distress. Whoda thunk?"

#finals #females fucked over tournament #steven universe #avatar the last airbender #gravity falls #rose quartz #katara #mabel pines #raise of hands whos actually surprised that this is the finals

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youngroyals-baby · 2 months

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Sorry, this is gonna be long 😃 These are my random thoughts on season 3 after having watched it twice.

Overall, I LOVED the season so much, even though it hurt so much! I really get Omar now when he said that this season would be depressing! And tissues were indeed needed!

First my non Wilmon related opinions:

- Sara and Micke‘s plotline was interesting on the first watch, but I will most probably skip it from now on. When it was announced that the Micke actor would be back, this was not what I had in mind! I wanted Simon/Micke scenes, maybe even one with Wille too. I don‘t know, I expected everything except this, but it kind of worked, I guess?

- I loved how Sara and Simon’s conflict was portrayed! And it‘s heartbreaking that Simon wanted contact with Micke all those years and just remained distant because of Sara 😣. Their talk in the classroom (during the strike) was so, so so good! Poor Simon was suffering so much! Also, I really liked the scene when he forgave Sara (amazing acting by Frida here!). In short, the Simon/Sara storyline was so well done, I really enjoyed it!

- August: I see and acknowledge (to an extent at least) that he had emotional growth this season, but I don‘t think I’ll ever be able to forgive him. Also him and Sara, I‘m just not 100 percent invested in their story

- The school inspection and strike storyline was just used as a tool to separate Wille and Simon. I didn‘t like it but I didn‘t hate it either. It just wasn’t necessary I think. And I want my original headmistress back!

- The Queen: I hate her! Wille was right to say what he did in episode 5. I was hoping for a Kristina redemption arc but not anymore. Kristina really is the absolute worst mother who shows absolutely no interest in her son‘s life and just burdens everything on him. After all he‘s been through. And yes, Duke Ludvig sucks too!

And now my thoughts on Wilmon:

- Clearly they love each other so much! And I have such a deep understanding for both of them! I love these characters with all my heart and I just want them to be okay (and hopefully happy) in the end 😭

- I want to protect Simon at all costs! He was suffering so much this season. It was so realistic and his storyline was so well scripted and amazingly portrayed by Omar! Watching him was so frustrating at times, but I think not reading/responding to comments is so much easier said than done. Rosh‘s (or was it ayub‘s?) comment „we just don‘t want you to delete yourself“ gave me goosebumps and was like an eye opener to me. I don‘t want Simon to leave behind everything that makes him who he is, just for the sake of being with Wille.

- Poor Wille! Hasn‘t he suffered enough already? 😢 I think that he would never hurt Simon on purpose! But honestly, it‘s relatable (though heartbreaking) that he lashed out at times. His parents left him completely alone and the Erik thing crushed his world completely. Wille was relying on Simon too much (especially in episode 5) but that was also so relatable! He has so much on his plate right now and so much emotional baggage, I don‘t know if he is in a mental state to have a happy and somewhat normal relationship with Simon right now.

- I think that Wilmon communicated rather well this season in terms of not keeping secrets from each other. Wille told Simon about his mum‘s health condition and also about Erik (not instantly, but he told him). And Wille knew about Simon’s struggles too. They get better at bringing certain topics to the table.

- in the first episode Wille said that he could be both, crown prince and Simon’s boyfriend. In a later episode he told Simon that he just wants to be with him. I think this is what episode 6 will be about. Wille will have to decide between the crown and Simon. If he accepts his role as crown prince, I doubt that he and Simon will be able to work it out in the long run, at least not now. Those problems and restrictions will always be there.

- If Wille continues to stay crown prince, chances are he might forever be miserabel (with or without Simon). I was hurting for him when he told Kristina that he would handle it. But I think that after episode 5, and after finding out the truth about his idol Erik, he might be ready to put himself first and step back from this duty. Then their love would have a chance and Simon wouldn‘t have to hide who he really is.

- As I said, I have a deep understanding for Wille, except of when he shushed Simon, when he treated him like shit in the music room and when he ignored his phone call. That‘s just not our Wille that would cry his heart out for this boy in season 2.

- Wilmon intimacy was as amazing as ever! Their playful scene in the palace in episode 1 was beautiful! They were both so happy 😭.

-Wille‘s heart „tattoo“ was the cutest thing ever! Also him joining the choir just to be near Simon was so sweet! But Simon not enjoying singing as much as he used to, broke my heart

- their little making out session right after Wille joining the choir was breathtakingly beautiful 🥰

- the sex scene was incredibly soft, tender and passionate and full of love. Also their talk afterwards made my insides melt. Simon laying in Wille‘s lap and Wille playing with his hair 😍 That‘s all I wanted!

- Wille‘s picture of him and Simon!!! And his smile whenever he thought of seeing Simon again. He is so in love!!!!

- I also loved their waking up together scene during the strike. That was so, so soft 💜. And Simon‘s happy birthday song and the sandwich!!! Ahhhhh!!!

- I’m so glad we got not one, but two reciprocal I love you‘s! But: I want a reciprocal I love you where the viewers can actually see their faces. So them not saying it on the phone and not in a dark room. But I don‘t want to complain here, the I love you‘s were beautiful

- The last scene from episode 5 made me cry but it was nothing I didn‘t expect. When they teased the cliffhanger I knew it had to be them breaking up

- Apart from his outfit, Simon did so well during the birthday dinner! Wille really has an amazing and supporting boyfriend!

- Edvin‘s acting when shouting at his parents was insane! He is one of the best young actors I’ve ever seen, really! I was blown away completely!

I really want them to have their happy ending in episode 6! But above all, I want them individually to not be hurting anymore! No matter how it ends, I still think they‘re it for each other, their love just might be too strong to handle right now. Right now my bet is a „you are the love of my life but let‘s give us both time to heal and try again in the future“ kind of ending. I‘d rather have Wille let August take over and be together with Simon. I think that only with Simon Wille has a chance of true happiness and pure love.

#young royals #young royals season 3 #yr s3 spoilers #yr s3 #young royals s3 spoilers #omar rudberg #edvin ryding

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princessmotif · 1 year

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zuko's redemption arc actually kind of sucks, and you should stop heralding it as the greatest in fiction.

there are three main reasons i say this.

one) zuko is never actually challenged by the narrative and made to question his imperialistic, racist, and xenophobic beliefs about the alleged inferiority of other nations, people, and bending.

you can say, "but he realizes he sucks during zuko alone!"

but i have to ask you: does he ever actually question the fire nation's values? or does he just realize he's been mean and scary?

his redemption arc is largely made into a personal issue of kindness instead of a social issue of him needing to make amends for both enforcing and benefitting from the fire nation's imperialism.

furthermore, zuko's redemption is boiled down to a moment in which he chooses a family member who is not abusive to him over a family member who is abusive.

two) zuko's redemption arc relies on audience bias. you like zuko because of how sympathetic the narrative is to him even when he's being a racist imperialist, and thus you want zuko to redeem himself. you root for him to be part of the gaang because of all of these moments of sympathy given to him by the narrative and these little moments he has with them that tease at his potential goodness.

zuko absolutely gets to the point where he starts to make better choices in the narrative and wants to do better. i'm not saying he doesn't.

but does he ever textually earn the gaang's trust and make amends with them? you might say, "well, yeah, he goes on life-changing field trips!"

think about it, though. how quickly does the gaang decide they like zuko fully now in book 3, despite him having hunted them and tried to kill them repeatedly throughout books 1 and 2? what does zuko actually do besides take a few of them on "life-changing field trips?" how does the gaang trust zuko so much after a few weeks of him being one of them and months of him being their enemy that they don't even think it's suspicious or weird or scary when he starts firebending aggressively at aang?

the answer is that bryke took too long getting to zuko actually starting his redemption arc and relied so much on audience bias that they decided the gaang had to forgive zuko and trust him that easily, regardless of it made sense.

three) zuko's choice of his uncle over his father is a matter of filial piety: should he abide by it by paying respect and obedience to his father or break it by choosing to go against his father? however, it is never portrayed through this lens. the choice is whitewashed and westernized for the consumption of a white, western audience. it gives no nuance to what it means to be raised with filial piety as an unquestionable staple of your culture and go against it.

this last one is racist, if you were wondering. because atla is racist.

#zuko critical

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