#Had this realization and it destroyed me just a little

[somebodyssherlock-heterodyne]

So this got too long for tags:

I feel like Hal tries to stay human outside his lessons about the ring, and Abin Sur encourages this because he'd really like Hal to be a fully developed adult before he goes around fighting cosmic bullshit. So Hal grows up with Martin Jordan's absence and Abin Sur's presence (grows up with the echo of a father that let death stop him and the voice of the one that fought death tooth and nail for Hal, before he even knew his name). I think Carol probably finds out at some point while they're growing up. (I think there are probably times during another boring/infuriating day in life as a business heiress that she is seethingly jealous, but that there are also times they bond over both their paths being set before them without much input on their parts).

I feel like Hal joins the Air Force because it's his last chance for a connection to his first father, and also that Abin Sur is strongly against this course of action. They've fought before, but Hal always showed up and Abin Sur always came back and sometimes they talked about it and sometimes they just let it blow over.

Not this time. This is their first BIG fight. And Hal runs off to join the military where he's never afforded any real privacy, so even if Abin Sur wanted to show up, he couldn't. For a while it's a nice, petty way to get back at him- for a while it feels like breaking free of the green path he got put on, you know?

Until he realizes that the US military kind of sucks and all he's done was trade one place he felt trapped in for another place he feels even more trapped in. Until he realizes that he chose Martin Jordan's echo which is incapable of caring over Abin Sur's presence who cares so much he stuck around even though he was DEAD. I think it'd be so crunchy if Hal got dishonorably discharged over the ring- he can't wear it, so he keeps it on his dog tags, and his CO doesn't even know what it is, doesn't know that it's anything, just knows Hal is too loose a cannon for military taste and the ring could be leveraged to bring him to heel.

Hal doesn't even let them get a good look at it, and during the whole incident ends up screaming "THIS RING BELONGED TO MY FATHER-" and he doesn't even know it until he says it, but it's true. He gets kicked out for his refusal to let anyone take his only piece of Abin Sur, and it feels like the right choice. Possibly the first right choice he's ever made for himself.

His privacy returns and Abin Sur returns with it. The reunion hits right in the feels. Abin Sur has been quietly prepping Hal for the very real possibility that he'll have to take on the Guardians one day, and he starts really finalizing that. Eventually he realizes that he's got nothing left to teach Hal.

Hal says "but you'll still come back, right? Even if it's less often, you'll still come back. You won't just leave me."

And I think Abin Sur tries his damndest not to, but that he knows it's all borrowed time now. The hourglass has had a hole in it this entire time, and he's out of ways to get more sand.

Oa considers him MIA, likely dead, and quite possibly that his ring was destroyed. Sinestro, loyal as he is, has been looking for him anyway. Abin Sur allows himself to be found.

Hal and Sinestro hate each other on sight. Hal's a cocky little shit, Sinestro is a perpetually composed planner, and both of them have very particular neuroses about Abin Sur. This is very inconvenient because these two are the best Draw Four cards he can play against the Guardians. The Indigo tribe is still Plan B but if these two ever manage to spend five minutes in the same room without arguing they can just overthrow the Guardians and lead the Corps themselves.

Abin Sur runs out of time. Hal and Sin are both absolutely devastated when they have to say goodbye. Sin is better at hiding it. He looks at this human- this infuriating human who's incomparable will is going to make him the greatest Lantern ever seen- and only really sees him now, in the moment he says goodbye to the only father he actually knew.

Hal loses everything all over again. At least this time he got to say goodbye.

He and Sinestro end up bonding over Abin Sur on the trip to Oa, trading stories. They can only get along like he wanted them to now that he's not here to see it.

They get to Oa, and the dominoes that took eons to line up finally start to fall.

what if AU where abin sur crash lands on earth right after hal’s dad dies and “learns no fear,” and when dying abin sur tells his ring to find the earthling with no fear and he sees a child, he’s like oh shit oh no what the fuck, and every day he has to muster up the willpower from Emerald Space to form a ghost form to mentor an 11yo grieving wild child who he accidentally stuck with the greatest weapon in the universe

[film-in-my-soul]

more than a sunshine in my eyes | 7,134 | ameizing_me3 / @ameizingme

Summary: It's shocking, that in the face of a day so beautiful and bright, he would rather watch the slow spread of Jayce's smile as he examines the peaches a couple trees down. "You okay?" Jayce's voice startles him. Not okay, Viktor thinks, but doesn't say. What can he say, really, other than "when you hold that basket of summer peaches and the light becomes ensnared in your eyes I understand why Degas did his pastels. The Impressionists painted light because they were helpless to do anything else in its wake, and every second of every day you make me wish I were an artist so I could sketch the shape of you, if only to feel like I could do something other than just behold the magic of your hands, the smell of summer in your hair, the softness of your eyes. If only to have evidence that I was worthy of its witness, if only as a testimony that I could keep it safe."

Staring Down the Barrel | 23,881 | late_june (kwiewi) / @kwieway

Summary: “I believe that these– memories, foreknowledge, whatever you want to call them– result from a bleed-over of our psyches from another time, another dimension, or both,” Viktor says. “Oh my god,” Jayce says, feeling lightheaded, “You think it's reincarnation?” “That could be one of the plausible explanations, if a little far-fetched,” Viktor murmurs, tapping the handle of his cane impatiently. “I imagine it’s something closer to—“ “—a dimensional anomaly,” Jayce breathes in understanding. “If the concept of multiverses is to be believed, then it’s possible that—“ “—these are our memories, just from another time, and another universe,” Viktor finishes, his eyes wide.

Winter | 1,707 | bluejorts / @wolverineheight

Summary: Snow falls on Piltover. Viktor has not celebrated the holidays in years.

(see more recommendations below!)

Me and my ✨genius partner✨ | 1,029 | sb_essebi / @sb-essebi

Summary: Then, Jayce planted a firm, resounding kiss on his cheek. “I’ll go tell the professor what me and my genius partner have created!” With a wave and a wink, he left. As if nothing had happened. As if Viktor’s cheek weren’t burning still from the touch of his lips. As if he hadn’t left Viktor speechless with his whole face growing hotter and hotter by the second. As if Viktor’s right hand weren’t glued to the spot Jayce had kissed as though to keep that easy affection trapped against his skin.

name a star after you | 8,340 | goldenlanternss

Summary: “Have you been drinking?” Viktor asks, frowning. Jayce grins sloppily, “Ha. Yeah. Champagne. Birthday for some—“ He waves his hand, “You know. Topsider.” He pauses and Viktor feels a little rush of affection. “You’re a topsider Jayce.” “What?” He pouts, “Since when?”

must i kill them (to make them lie still?) | 8,503 | pidgewings (violentlypan)

Summary: “You are blooming,” says Viktor incredulously. “I thought I had something from the Undercity,” Jayce says, ragged. But no - blooming is the polite word for it, and he’s never heard of it outside of the gilded streets of Piltover. There’s a cure - an easy one - in Piltover. Cait had had it once, as a young teen, for a girl from House Ferros. She had taken three weeks of antibiotics the moment her cough had become bad and it had immediately subsided. Jayce could get to Piltover, but it’s been destroyed. “I’m going to die in this pit,” he rasps.

grapejuice blues | 10,375 | wobbeegong

Summary: Jayce has a realization on his way home from buying flowers for the lab.

Never Getting Back Together (jayvik’s version) | 22,694 | Miikado

Summary: Viktor doesn’t have a last name. Viktor doesn’t need a last name, but he still gets saddled with Jayce’s during an unfortunate misprint on some legal paperwork. Word spreads, and now Jayce and Viktor find themselves accidentally married in the eye of the public. But it doesn’t stop there. OR : Jayce and Viktor get accidentally married. And then subsequently accidentally divorced.

Men of Progress | 44,283 | Zairielon

Summary: On a frozen tundra, a mystical figure makes the decision to save Jayce's life. Thus begins a journey of destiny, the indomitable strength of the human soul, and love that transcends death, all bound together by the Arcane. The Mage gives Jayce and Viktor a chance to change their fate. And the two humans push back against the natural order of time. Maybe, just maybe... life is not set in stone.

faith, it drives me away (but it turns me on) | 2,660 | yellow813

Summary: Viktor’s followers celebrate the passage of time, the end of a year and the beginning of a new one, with dancing and muffled laughter. In Viktor’s tent, time stands still for Jayce.

the touching art of communication | 4,521 | Lorrens

Summary: Jayce touches Viktor all the time. Viktor carefully catalogues all the touches Jayce gives him.

inside the star shine | 4,581 | sepiacigarettes / @sepiacigarettes

Summary: Jayce's hand is hot and heavy as it folds over Viktor's spine, and Viktor can't explain why he immediately breaks into goosebumps when it squeezes there, firmly, like a claim. Can't explain why he tilts his head back, why a small wounded sound wants to escape from behind his lips. Oh. Oh no. Yes, Viktor will always crave things he cannot have, and by some cruel twist, the latest unattainable thing is Jayce.

The Altar of Your Body | 5,085 | tardigrape / @thetardigrape

Summary: Viktor hisses and whimpers, which Jayce does his level best to ignore—and not only because he’s pushing past a desire to let go every time he thinks he’s causing Viktor pain. The noises themselves raise goosebumps on Jayce’s arms, sounding almost like— No. Jayce won’t let himself think about that. That’s a terrible idea anytime he’s around Viktor, but especially when he has his leg on his lap, has his hands on him. Jayce gives Viktor a leg massage after a long day of walking. It does not go exactly the way he expects.

I found a different buzz | 5,121 | InAllPossibilities

Summary: He stands and walks slowly to the kitchen sink and stands there, still staring wide eyed at his hands. His stomach turns. But the nausea doesn’t hit, instead a warmth spreads from his gut and sends a shiver down his spine. Jayce raises his hands closer to his face to look at where the edges are drying a deep ruddy brown. Then the smell hits him: metallic and sharp, unmistakable. He swears he salivates. And he doesn’t know why, but without thinking, he lifts his right hand to his nose to inhale.

to unbecome | 5,403 | Sinister_Queer

Summary: It was an idea that Jayce had for a while now. The kind that he turned over in his head again and again, fiddling with the hinges and the bolts to see what was gunking up the ever-turning gears in his head. It was the kind of idea that haunted him at night, clinging to the shadows and flickering across the fibers in his mind. An idea and a question. Jayce practiced the asking part of it in the mirror, sometimes. Which, in a way, might have been stupid. Maybe Jayce was overthinking it. Maybe he was letting the question needle under his skin as it coiled around an idea and made the whole world seem, at once, different and risky. Jayce had an easier time asking Viktor to marry him.

an inch away | 5,417 | vavavavoom

Summary: Viktor has lots of things on his face— two eyes, a nose, a beauty mark on his cheek that Jayce sometimes thinks about licking— but probably, Jayce reasons, he should keep that to himself.

Throes Of Wonderment | 5,734 | navree / @navree

Summary: He even allows himself a moment to think that maybe his luck has turned around. That after the explosion at his place and all the sneers from the Council and the way any hope had seemed impossibly far away just a day ago, now things are looking up. Now he has a partner and they've solved the equations and they're going to get his equipment back and maybe it will actually all work out. Until he hears the sound of shoes, of someone walking towards them, and realizes that they're fucked. Viktor must realize it too, because he immediately grabs the key ring and shoves the whole thing into his pocket in an instant as Jayce fumbles to click the light off. He's already trying to come up with some sort of excuse, some kind of plan, when Viktor, swift as anything, surges to his feet, fists a hand in the collar of Jayce's shirt, and hauls him in to press their mouths together.

Blow up the outside world | 6,630 | MGCraig

Summary: Jayce’s unfamiliarity with all the things Viktor is into is a source of humor for Viktor in opposition to the neuroticism it riles in Jayce. Which is both sexy and frustrating in equal measure. He'd like Viktor to be flustered more often. Especially if Jayce is the one wielding the ropes.

is that better? | 6,900 | ducky (conscious_mess)

Summary: It's a bad pain day. Jayce takes care of Viktor (they have 6.9k words of ceaseless sex).

My Wicked | 6,925 | BringtheKaos

Summary: Despite the predicament, despite being well and truly powerless, a bolt of heat went down Jayce’s spine at the intimate nature of it—Viktor’s knees placed just inside his own and keeping his legs spread, the warmth and pressure of that hard metal body now looming over his back… so close and yet so far away. He couldn’t help the shiver, though he tried with all his might to stifle it, and soon thereafter he was riddled with goosebumps. His poor overworked heart kicked into high gear, his breaths coming quicker and quicker as the hand that had been clamped onto his neck now slowly traced down his spine.

Centrifuge. | 7,271 | Azurita25 / @madelynejpryor

Summary: “Hey… Is everything alright?” Jayce was by their side in a second. Even if he didn’t know them, this being so clearly was magic, in the flesh, and Jayce was nothing if not drawn to magic. “It– I promise, we just do research in here. Equations, experiments– But you can leave whenever you want to!” No, they can’t, they’re fucking stuck, Jayce. “I mean– If you don’t like the lab, you don’t have to– We’ll get you back. My partner and I… Well, my partner’s the one who really comes up with the clever ideas, but we hone them together, and I’m sure we can–” “Jayce.” On instinct, Jayce whipped around to the door, expecting Viktor to be there, standing behind him, watching one of his rambles with that practiced expression that, if Jayce let himself think on it too long, almost felt like fondness. But no one was there. “Jayce.”

Cause and Effect (and Revelation, Too) | 7,291 | heckflute

Summary: Following the successful implementation of the Hexgates, Jayce gets invited to a lot of parties full of people who want to tell him how great he is. He feels a little weird about it. Viktor helps him work out those feelings via tactile learning. Or something.

I've Been Trying to Make You Special | 8,035 | FourOddApples

Summary: The thing is…they're not dating. Frankly, Jayce doesn't know what they are. Or: Sometimes in the dark, late at night, boundaries blur. Sometimes two people exist in the in-between of all the things their relationship could be, with a lot left unsaid. Jayce and Viktor have been dancing around each other for a long time.

memories crumbling under solid steel resistance | 10,724 | giopared

Summary: Jayce hasn’t had much success in previous timelines. Cities left to ruin, thousands dead. Small mistakes — a needle’s drop or a simple miscommunication leaves Jayce scrambling onto the next. Then the next, and another. All for Viktor. When he stumbles upon a timeline not yet doomed — one in a distant past, where it's Viktor is alarmingly similar to his, Jayce crumbles under the weight of his gaze.

Expected Results | 12,073 | softestpunk / @softest-punk

Summary: Viktor has been enlisted to dog-and-apartment-sit for Professor Heimerdinger while the professor attends a conference. This would be a simple task, except that he and the professor's dog are mortal enemies. And the professor has an unbelievably attractive and friendly neighbour who seems to know all about him. And that Viktor's first encounter with him involves planting his face directly in said neighbour's chest.

when the war quiets down, strike up the band | 12,393 | phiresong

Summary: "Professor Talis!" A young man strides towards them, Academy-crest pin gleaming on his jacket. Jayce raises his hand in greeting, but the kid breezes right past him and stops a respectable distance from Viktor's chair. "I tried to sign up for your class this semester, but the waitlist was miles long--" Viktor and Jayce end up in a new world. In the middle of their honeymoon. There's a lot to figure out.

Carnal Desires | 14,415 | Stargirl (JanetBaby99)

Summary: Viktor’s eyes widen. “Those aren’t the flowers I asked you to get, they must have some sort of… effect.” Jayce looks like he’s hanging on his every word. Eventually he nods. “That makes sense.” Viktor nods too. “Tell me how you feel, Jayce.” “I feel like- I’ve never been so horny in my life. Viktor, I’ve wanted you for so long now, I need to feel you or I’ll die,” he pleads dramatically. “Well, I doubt you’ll die,” Viktor scoffs. Viktor asks Jayce to bring him back a plant for their research, but Jayce accidentally stumbles into a different kind of flower, and the pollen makes him horny out of his mind. Viktor helps him through it.

heavy crown | 20,886 | vavavavoom

Summary: Jayce’s wedding goes differently than he imagined.

Jayce and Viktor Make A Porno (For Science) | 22,703 | softestpunk / @softest-punk

Summary: In the absence of other avenues of funding, Viktor and Jayce decide to go down a... less traditional route to continue their hextech research. Strictly professional, of course. Viktor never needs to know Jayce is in love with him. Jayce never needs to know Viktor's in love with him. What could possibly go wrong?

stir the heart | 46,394 | weatheredlaw / @weatheredlaw

Summary: It is the talk of both Piltover and Zaun when Jayce Talis returns from Noxus without a wife. Viktor carries on as he always does. or: viktor has no intention of becoming fodder for local gossip, but he can't seem to stop making an enemy of jayce talis, and neither can stop running into one another, despite their fervent insistence they never speak again. a regency au.

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[aiiria17]

I (re)read Warriors: Rising Storm & A Dangerous Path

2 for one special (Walmart reference) cause like half of all the things in Rising Storm don't resolve until A Dangerous Path but this is also going to be longer so strap in.

Other notes: I wrote like a trillion words or whatever so feel free to skip to various categories. These posts are basically compilations of mini-essays talking about one aspect.

Tigerstar's rise to power is logical looking through the lens of a fascism allegory

I never really understood why Shadowclan was so quick to accept Tigerstar until rereading and realizing that it's entirely about fascism.

Now I'm not going to dive to deep into historical context but an important aspect about between-world-wars Germany and Italy is understanding how weak they were. Infamously, Germany had super duper inflation, but Italians were unhappy with how weak their nation felt compared to many others. So when a charismatic, younger figure promising strength and to make their countries better, those to-be dictators were able to pretty easily generate a supporter base.

Small note before I get into more subtle aspects that Tigerstar explicitly says "it was my task to restore the Clan and make it great again." (Darkest Hour but still relevant). So that's something.

Okay so Tigerstar clearly is just the result of a desperate and tattered Shadowclan being swayed by his promises of a return to the strength they valued after being destroyed in a war then led by a weak leader. There are no historical parallels here. None at all. Tigerstar's goal is to increase Shadowclan's strength so that they (but really just he) can control the whole forest. Additionally he only wants "pure" cats, as seen in the 6th book. No historical parallels at all.

Tigerstar is explicitly fascism as a cat. You probably don't really need me to tell you this honestly if you know European history. But what I want to answer is why that matters and, on a more meta level, how it effects my overall perspective on the books.

The main reason Tigerstar being fascist is interesting isn't because of him but instead because of Thunderclan. Why was he unable to take Thunderclan? Now obviously there's the plot reasons of Fireheart being on it with his investigations and literally sniffing everything out within a couple months of joining the clan (strictly because of Ravenpaw but Fireheart still deserves credit), but symbolically there has to be something there. To me, I think Thunderclan is an example of freedom and stability that inherently resists fascism. Pre-depression Bluestar is a strong leader who's compassionate for all the people in her clan. They don't have to be forced to follow her, they would no matter what. Tigerstar couldn't be Thunderclan's leader because the cats of the clan aren't desperate enough to follow a tyrant. The clan is to stable to enable Tigerstar's desires for conquest because, frankly, he'd probably be met with resistance. There is no need for Thunderclan to be "back to their former glory." They don't need to "Revive the days of the Roman Empire (no historical parallels none at all)." That's why Tigerstar goes to Shadowclan, where he's welcomed with open, desperate arms.

So like why is this in a kids book? The obvious answer is cause basing villains on fascists is pretty popular. The most notable example I can think of is Star Wars but don't quote me on that I haven't watched those movies in years. To me I think it's fascinating to understand how the writers thought when writing Tigerstar. The writing being able to cover realistic subjects like this is what, I think, makes Warriors specifically so strong and investing. Compared to other books for this demographic Warriors actually is willing to tackle serious subject matters. Is it always done well? Oh god no not even a little bit. But sometimes you get a Tigerstar: a somewhat realistic villain who's just so fun to follow. Despite kids not really grasping onto the historical parallels (which are totally subtle for sure), it's pretty easy to depict his malice in the books because he's not some far-fetched concept of a villain.

tl;dr: kitty cat fascism meow meow

Okay additional side note cause this is where it best fits: Tallstar is so chill with Tigerstar and it's perplexing. I don't get it. He was raising hell over a blind Brokentail being a prisoner but is a-okay with Tigerstar bringing in Brokentail's goons. Why? Also Fireheart covers up Graypools murder for fun. Those are my two big complaints about the handling of Tigerstar

Fireheart is overworked and stressed

Fireheart is basically doing two jobs.

With Bluestar out of commission he kinda has to be both deputy and leader in all ways but official (to the extent where Bluestar makes him choose apprentices and he does "great"). Honestly, Rising Storm & A Dangerous Path are the peak of Fireheart's character in the first arc because of how he responds to work. It's nice to see Fireheart out of his element and stressed. When investigating Tigerclaw it was basically just him, Graystripe and Ravenpaw working alongside each other. No need to worry about protocol (the warrior code is a suggestion for main characters) or the rest of the clan. As deputy, his daily challenges involve everyone and he's not initially ready for that.

Fireheart grows so much throughout these two books because he's in a situation previously above his pay grade. The reason he becomes so fit to lead Thunderclan is cause he, despite being deputy for such a short period of time, has to learn so much more so much quicker. There is an implied omen that Fireheart's deputy-ship is going to be bad early on into it. That's incredibly true as Thunderclan is tormented by Tigerstar & the dogs, a fire, and an incapable leader. Easily, the years when Fireheart is deputy are the most challenging for Thunderclan this arc but, importantly, the challenge is mitigated by Fireheart. He is shown well capable of managing all the situations quickly and decisively to set him up to be a good leader.

Sandstorm (aka Fireheart pt. 2 as much as I hate to admit it)

The main difficulty, additionally, that Fireheart faces is losing Graystripe at the end of Forest of Secrets. Despite my previously documented dislike of Graystripe, he is still vital as Fireheart's best friend and closest support (despite him not exactly being good at in before leaving).

Well time to introduce, 4 books in, Sandstorm as an actual important figure.

So first of all she is way more interesting than Graystripe and has significantly better chemistry with Fireheart than Graystripe did. So that's cool. But seriously I really got excited whenever she appeared just because I liked her character and she actually helped round out Fireheart both by making him still a character with feelings and through showing his imperfections as deputy.

Fireheart is pretty obviously, and then explicitly in love with Sandstorm and vice versa. It sets up a different dynamic than he's previously had and makes him act a bit more sensitively towards her while still being deputy. I think a romance thing like what he has here also highlights Fireheart's youth: with him being a leader figure, it can be easy to forget his age, so depicting him as unfamiliar with love helps the readers see him as the same young cat. Fireheart the deputy is still Fireheart and Sandstorm brings that out very uniquely.

Imperfections as a deputy just really is me saying that he should've given Sandstorm an apprentice because... did he really need to take baby Tigerstar? In retrospect yes but his logic at the time is very much so not trusting an actual baby which is... interesting. And besides Sandstorm definitely could've handled it. I think giving Brackenfur one is fair because he promised or whatever but Sandstorm could've easily taken Bramblepaw. Okay now time to talk about how Fireheart's lowkey an ass to Sandstorm for a while.

Fireheart very much so sees Sandstorm as something he needs to protect, which is an issue because 1. she is older than him so huh? and 2. yuck and 3. she explicitly doesn't like that. He eventually slightly reluctantly involves her but I don't like that he still is depicted as wanting to protect her when she says she doesn't like that constantly. The second issue is just Fireheart not really being good with handling a relationship but I think that ties into showing his youth/life inexperience but overall wow they started out pretty rough in these books.

Fireheart yells at Longtail

what the fuck is his problem?

Brightheart & Cloudtail

I'm also going to dip into early Darkest Hour cause that's when Brightheart has the best resolution. Also so I can fully call her Brightheart and not Lostface or Brightpaw without worrying about being wrong about timeline.

So to avoid substantial plot summary Brightheart is in love with Cloudtail and also, at the same time, gets her face ripped off by a dog.

I think Brightheart is easily one of the most impactful characters of this arc. She's comfortably in my top 5 and probably high up in it, too. Brightheart is another character showing strength through adversity and filling a role despite challenges, similarly to Cinderpelt. The reason Brightheart specifically is so impactful isn't just her, it's how she is situated with the clan. Brightheart isn't the same character without Cloudtail.

Brightheart's injury clearly defines her and I love that the book doesn't hide away from that. It forces her to adapt everything she does for the clan to something that allows her to work around it. Probably the strongest part of her character is how she and Cloudtail have to work around it. Notably Fireheart doesn't walk up to her and ask her to learn. In fact she's sent to the elder's den to basically waste away for her life (not to dog on the elders but am I wrong?) despite still being 99% physically capable. Brightheart takes initiative to work around her problems, and is successful because of that. In a society that doesn't encourage her to be the strongest she can be, Cloudtail and her both work to go against the minimized expectations laid on her. One last note: Brightheart being cast aside is never depicted as the right thing to do within the text of the book (due to Cloudtail's dialogue). I just want to mention that for clarity that this isn't despite the writing, but is pretty intentional to me.

So how does Cloudtail slot into all of this? Well the answer is love.

Yeah it's cheesy but literally true. It's extremely important to note that Brightheart's strength isn't brought about alone. And not in the "she's depicted as incapable" way, though she should have definitely not been as passive in her arc as she is seen as. Instead, I'd say Cloudtail enables Brightheart to prop her self up. He's her big fluffy marshmallow of support that lets her overcome what is the arguable most gruesome non-death I've seen in the series so far (and I don't remember any more from later arcs but I haven't reread them yet so I'll get there).

To summarize: love wins I guess

Bluestar

My view on Bluestar is very personal so if I'm a little vague on some parts about me please understand.

I feel like Bluestar best highlights the difference in rereading the books now as an adult aka not a 10 year old. Despite them being for children there's elements that make it clear that they are written by adults that make some parts uncomfortable in how real they feel.

Bluestar's decline throughout the 4th&5th books is the clearest example.

About a year(?) ago my Grandmother died. I remember feeling weird about it though. For the past 3 or so years she's been on a clear mental decline (age will do that). Worse memory, clearly not focused during conversations, etc. It was really painful and sad to see. I remember who she was before that and, despite her being alive, I felt like I missed her. Those years were emotionally kind of tough.

Bluestar is similar. After Tigerstar's betrayal, she is notably different. At first it seems temporary, Yellowfang believed that she would bounce back and be the Bluestar she was, but that never happens. Throughout the books, she declines rapidly and it's painful for Fireheart. On top of his heavy workload, he's clearly emotionally wrecked by seeing Bluestar in this state. She's kind of like his family, in a way (Bluestar is 100% using Fireheart as a stand in for the children she gave up to some extent). The books are uncomfortable seeing Fireheart push through the tense emotional state between him and Bluestar in a way that is scarily reminiscent of what I actually lived through.

After my Grandma died, I didn't really cry or anything. Not because I didn't care for her, but because there's a strange sense of relief in a situation like mine. She had, to me, been "gone" for years now. I'm not religious but part of me hopes she's how she was up in some afterlife. I'm just glad that I don't have to see how much she was suffering anymore.

I imagine a similar feeling in Fireheart, and the rest of Thunderclan to some extent. He no longer has to see the brave leader he admired get worse. Thunderclan no longer has to suffer under the non-leadership of later Bluestar. Despite the grief there's some extent of relief from the pain Fireheart had to suffer for years. As leader he know longer has to be deputy/leader alone like he was while Bluestar is sick. He gets to receive more help and not have to stress about the life of his leader. I envy that Fireheart gets to meet Bluestar in Starclan and see that she's better and will be for eternity.

There's something weird about finally feeling seen about something like that through the cat books I started rereading as a joke. I feel weird about the fact that a kids book made me feel this way. But whatever. Really I think these books aren't the same ones I read as a kid. My perspective is so changed now through age. Thanks Warrior Cats. I can't believe that I'm not saying this as a joke.

Yellowfang's Death & Guilt

Somehow this is a lighter topic. Also going to be brief cause I think I have less unique things to say but not talking about Yellowfang is a disservice.

Yellowfang's death is tough but establishes a final shift in her character. It's not untimely but a perfect endpoint of her character arc. She's confesses to killing Brokentail in her last moment. Not like anyone would mind, he was kind of a jerk. I think that her statement in death to Fireheart clarifies why she killed him without much remorse though. Beyond his evilness, Brokentail actively put Fireheart at risk, as well of the rest of Thunderclan, and she saw Fireheart as her son.

I think Yellowfang doesn't just find duty and safety in Thunderclan but a family. She truely latches onto Fireheart and Cinderpelt like they are her own, more so than she seemed to do in Shadowclan. There's something about Yellowfang's willingness to die trying to save a Thunderclan cat, one who was previously hostile to her (non-specifically, they all were, this isn't a Halftail call out). She truely wanted the best not for the clan who saved her but for the clan of people she loved. It's a nice concise point of closure for her that solidifies her as one of the best characters in the arc (and there's a lot of those you can tell by the fact that I think I've said this 20 times now).

GOATWATCH: RUNNINGWIND

TIME FOR MY FAVORITE SEGMENT BUT 10X SADDER THAN NORMAL CAUSE THE GOAT LITERALLY DIED

:(

But for early summary:

He goes on patrol (responsible king) and detects Cloudpaw (only he could track that good ignore that he literally isn't the only one who does).

Teaches Thornpaw (makes him catch squirrels and proves that he's actually a GOATed mentor to prove the haters wrong)

He tries to take Cloudpaw hunting but Cloudpaw runs off while Runningwind is cleaning himself (+3 hygiene better than a smash tournament)

He eats with Fireheart again which is awesome because that's where this bit started for me (him being Firehearts bff (background friend for four books)). But now he witnesses vaguely flirtatious quarreling so like that's something (this is hard to convert into glazing Runningwind).

He's sad when Cloudpaw's abducted (he's an empath)

Well then he fucking dies which is cringe. My interpretation: Starclan released a balance patch and removed him for fairness. Can't have Thunderclan be too good now. Would be rip goatwatch but he'll be back trust

Conclusion

I'm going to tier list my own essays for fun:

G (for goat)- Runningwind

S- Bluestar (easy cause it's just me talking about myself kinda hard to mess up)

A- Tigerstar (coulda been organized a little better) & Yellowfang (short but I think I got everything)

B- Fireheart/Sandstorm (basically one segment, very average)

C- Brightheart (could have made my points better but not sure how. You got the idea though I hope)

Long post (came out to 2830 words not counting conclusion) and it feels good to finish it. Thanks for reading even just if you skimmed. Feel free to argue I'd love to clarify anything if it wasn't clear. I already read Darkest Hour a bit ago and will do a shorter post cause 1. to me it wasn't as interesting and 2. there's a lot of reiteration of points that I'm going to avoid (Tigerstar is still fascist so no need to really double dip)

bye bye

[shatcey]

Alfons's route (Memories. Ally's POV)

This is the main concept of this route. Memories can save or destroy a person. And since the way Ally and Kate see them or use them changes throughout the route, it's interesting to combine them together. I've looked at all stories from his POV to see how his thoughts change over time. And I plan to do the same with Kate. But it's a lot of work, so I'm going to take a break before that…

I once wrote that Ally wanted her to think about him from the very beginning, but… I didn't have stories from his POV at the time, so I wasn't entirely right.

He actually had rather simple intentions.

Think about me instead of thinking about the bloody scenes. It's the same as the pleasant memories he has… created for her. The impression was so strong that it overshadowed all other of her memories. Quite the skill, huh?

But in the scene in a carriage… he already has some other thoughts…

He already enjoys playing with her, so… he likes the idea of she thinks of him. It's already more for him than for her.

And then he realized that he had become an important part of her life, he was trying to make her think badly of him… but still think.

As usual, he's thinking about her… future… that is the best for her. But his desire to be in her head remains.

And after this the most cruel prank of his… He asks how it happened, what memories of him have already been imprinted in her memory.

She will forget him. Everyone forgets… it's inevitable. But… he sounds so sad… It's like he's saying one thing and he wants the exact opposite.

During the scene of jealousy (it is more obvious from his POV), he is already thinking about his own memories…

Despite the fact he had done so much to make her forget him… He admits that every little detail related to her has already been imprinted in his memory. In his language, it's more than a declaration of love.

And in chapter 20, he explicitly said so.

He doesn't like the idea that she might forget him. So far, this is just a shadow of a thought. But later (BLE) he will begin to understand how strong this desire is in him.

At a romantic BLE, he even confirmed my suspicions that he really has a very fragile heart.

He's already talking about leaving scars. Memories that would turn into scars in the future. Deep memories that you will never forget… This is not just a fleeting pleasure, but a real connection. It shows how seriously he takes her. He was serious when he was trying to save her from his fate, and now he's serious about becoming a part of her life. That's exactly what I meant when I said that I consider him a family type. He's a very serious guy, although it's not easy to notice.

And at the BLE epilogue… he kept doing it. Burning every memory of her into his mind.

He's not just want her to remember him, he wants to remember her as well. Yet again… in his language, this is the definition of love.

Here! I will do anything so that she never forgets me. I cried at the thought at the aphrodisiac event.

I won't talk about MLE. It's not that I don't like it. This ending has a different theme. It tells us how much Alfons really wants to be loved, wants him to love himself. And this is not quite match to the original theme of the story, so the ending seems rather odd. But I like the idea. The thought crossed my mind that Ally might be suppressing his desires for the whole of his life… I think that was Elbert's route, so it's nice to see that…

He feels sorry for her for falling in love with such a terrible man, but… he can't deny the fact that he loves her.

I'm really glad that we have the opportunity to hear his thoughts. Ally is one of the characters who is really hard to understand. In this sense, he is very similar to Vivi. And Ally's emotions… if we take the time to understand his "terminology"… shine so much.

I'm going to take a little break from Ally's route and finish writing about Vivi's route. And right after that, I'll continue. Yeah…. I'm still not done.

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🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

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[cosmikazie]

here's my opinion as someone who had little to no frame of reference for what Aether Ridge was before i played the watcher:

it all balanced out to being somewhat average to me. key word being BALANCED OUT, because this region had some pretty high highs and low lows in my experience.

Shattered Terrace was probably the coolest one to me. I thought it was a pretty fun region to explore and try and understand because it's so visually striking compared to a lot of the other regions in the DLC, with its floating rocks and dust blowing through the air and all that. i just wish gilded sanctuary was in the game too, because from what i've seen, that region's what this one was supposed to lead into, and if you ask me, it's a LOT more distinct than almost everything Aether Ridge has to offer (barring ST of course in this case)

Heat Ducts was also pretty cool. I thought it was fun to navigate, and it has a FAR more preferable implementation of the wind mechanic than anywhere else in the game (more on that later). its color palette is also very nice to look at. my only real gripe is the platforming area where you first enter the thermal relay subregion, because the triangular geometry on some of the platforming made it weird

i actually liked Fetid Glen alright, but i think out of all regions where you have to worry about food scarcity, this is the one where it gets you the worst. easily. i appreciate what they were trying to go for, and seeing it in action is cool, but holy shit i thought the invisible platforming shit was a bug. rain world already has some hard to determine platforming stuff, but that is just downright GRATING to experience. food scarcity and weird platforming aside, though, i think it's a pretty interesting region. miles ahead of salination, its alternative.

the surface is... eh. i liked seeing the snow return for this region, and i think the wind mechanic adds a fun challenge. i also like the blizzard lizards. but good lord, i feel like im just walking in circles sometimes. and for most of my experience there, i WAS. there were some cool setpieces, but when i wasn't in the tundra fault area, it was just a resounding "ah fuck. more worm grass" or "ah fuck. more tunnels" kinda thing. it just wasn't super appealing to me.

cold storage is like... the cooler aether ridge. i dont think it's terrible, but it's like... a rearranged version of the regular aether ridge region with more tunnels. the rot's cool, and it intrigued me the first time i was there, but that was before i realized i'd be coming back to this place multiple times. lorewise, there's more to explore there. but don't make me strip this place down to its rooms to find it. wind mechanic is at its worst here, as the rift access point on top of the tower forces you to fight the wind to even USE it. as im typing this im realizing they used the wind mechanic like, waaaaay too much during this DLC

the regular aether ridge is repetitive and annoying. wind's irritating, and the platforming's a bit dependent on this being the case. the only two things i think make aether ridge stand out the most in a positive way are the white acid and the moths. those are cool. visually. it's unique, but it gets old fast in my opinion.

SALINATION HAS ONE FUCKING INTERESTING ROOM. the rest is like if the worst parts of drainage system and submerged superstructure were turned into their own region. it's annoying at best, tiring at worst. salination is a boring, unrewarding region that only serves to destroy any benefit of the doubt you had left for the new barnacle creatures.

all in all, the greater aether ridge is... okay on average. it's big! that does NOT warrant it being like, a third of the DLC. i hope that, with whatever updates that come out (and NOBODY destroy my hope on this i want to be optimistic. i really liked the watcher overall and i hope that if they continue to expand on the DLC, as i hear that they're talking about, they expand on EVERYTHING) they add more regions that just. aren't aether. fucking. ridge.

AR regions include: The Surface/Tundra Fault, Blast Deck/Aether Ridge, Heat Ducts/Thermal Relay, Salination, Cold Storage/Station Annex, Fetid Glen, and Shattered Terrace

[thesummerestsolstice]

So I think one thing that really drives Feanor is his grief– he looses Miriel, and he very clearly never recovers from that. There's the pain of loosing a parent and the added layer of Miriel's death being, on some level, a choice to leave Feanor. You can't tell me he didn't internalize the idea that he wasn't good enough for his mother to stay ay least a little. And I can't help but imagine that most of Valinor really wasn't helpful. There was probably a lot of vague sympathy with no real understanding of the situation, people who in theory thought Feanor had the right to grieve but reacted pretty badly to any actual displays of grief, and some people who insisted that Miriel chose to stay dead, Finwe and Indis were happily married, and therefore, Feanor shouldn't feel sad about it anymore. Even for those with more understanding of grief, it's still a really complicated situation. But you know who would understand Feanor?

Elrond. And the reason is Elros and Arwen– Elrond knows what it's like when someone you love dearly chooses to leave you, essentially forever, not because they don't care about you or because you weren't good enough, but because they have to make the best choice for themselves. And how you can respect that choice, and be glad that they did what they needed to, but still grieve them and the relationship you had with them. He understands those complicated feelings and how to process them in a healthy and non-destructive way.

And I'm losing my mind over this because Feanor is the one who starts the kinslayings and the cycle of violence between elves, and Elrond is the end result of all that violence; born to two refugees and raised largely by Feanor's sons. But despite all that, he's good and kind and able to focus on healing instead of pain. He ends the violence and makes a sanctuary where everyone is welcome. And he's able to do what Feanor never could, and not be consumed by his pain. And that means so much.

[demigods-posts]

me personally. i wouldn't have gone after all the olympians at once. you're biting off more than you can chew here. all you would need to do is take each olympian out one by one. and then convince demigods that once enough people stop believing in a diety, that diety ceases to exist. which is not a lie. and you could use the death of pan to back yourself up. sure, you'd be in it for the long haul. but chess isn't meant to be a quick game.

[ittybxttykxttytxtty]

I MIGHT'VE FALLEN ASLEEP AGAIN, IM SORRY.

“You know how that makes me feel, right? Like I’m just some pawn in your twisted web.”

Baby girl, why are we still surprised? The things you've seen him do 😭 i guess reality caught up with her.

“What if I didn’t go along with your trap? Would you have killed me?”

.....he'd rather set himself on fire.

Well, that wasn’t terrifying at all.

Babe, it's okay. We're into it.

“Can you honestly say, without a doubt, that you hated seeing how obsessed I was? Would you really rather watch me pretend to be less?”

GOTCHA!!! Istg, i can imagine him saying this with an unhinged fuck me, rail me, devour me look in his eyes.

“I know,” He says firmly, “And don’t you love that?”

When your freak matches his freak and it takes you by surprise 😭

“I’d let you ruin me, destroy every piece of me,” A slow breath, “If I could just stay with you a second more. A moth and a flame, Icarus and the sun. I don’t want to exist without you.”

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. A million times yes.

And with one final kiss to his lips, you reach over, grabbing the little pile of divorce papers, and letting the edge of it touch the flickering candle.

I sighed so loud 😭😭😭😭

“Till death do us part.” You mumble to yourself, the finality of your decision sinking in, the immediate relief of it comes as fast as the fire does.

NOBODY TOUCH ME. I AM FERAL. 😭😭😭😭

You want to warn him about the fire alarm,

You know damn well that even if the staff and fire department comes barging in, Billy isnt gonna stop fucking you.

“Fuck. That- was so fucking good, little wife.”

I always knew this bitch has a wife kink.

It’s the same snake that’s on his shoulder, except this time its fangs aren’t bared, its serpentine body is wrapped around the stem of a rose. 

I KNEW IT. I KNEW SHE HAD A TATTOO.

“Snakes,” you whisper softly to him, too afraid to break the trance that he’s in, “shed their skins all the time. They are symbols of transformation and rebirth. Misunderstood, but deadly when underestimated.” You repeat the words he said to you as best as you could remember.

I remember that. Chelsea, I am crying. I am bawling. I am inconsolable.

“No, I have my bodyguard, Dave with me.”

I just realized, does Billy still have blue contacts on when all of these went down? 😂

“That’s quite a dream, little wife.”

And the epilogue, please. I am begging, I need this.

I already sent you an emotional message but I will give you your flowers again because you deserve it. This series is so good!!!!! Every moment of it was so good. I felt the frustration, the angst, the yearning. Damn.

Once again, thanks for sharing and finishing this series!!!!!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

This, is my Solemn Vow

Part 17 of my Accidentally on Purpose Series!

Billy Russo x Female Reader

Warnings: I don't want to spoil anything, but this part contains similar themes as most other parts of this series, including discussions that may be deemed as dark. Be warned.

It was looming over your head, twisting your insides into knots, and you were pretending that everything was okay.

When you wake up in the morning, he asks you to get dressed, taking you down to the marina, and guiding you onto a barge styled boat, with a restaurant inside.

You have breakfast beside him for the few hours it takes to sail around Sentosa island, wearing a loose yellow sundress, while he wears an olive green t-shirt tucked into black jeans.

You looked like a lemon-lime combo, and you can’t help saying this to him at some point throughout your journey, laughing with him as though everything was alright.

It wasn’t.

You were both pretending and you knew it. Clinging to the role of husband and wife because you had no idea what would happen after.

It was fucking weird.

You would hold his hand, and tuck yourself into the space beside him, but you resisted kissing him, because you were confused and this was confusing and you might tear your hair out if you didn’t clear the air soon. 

It was familiar to you… but also not. 

You could at least admit to yourself that there was an easy friendship here, if nothing else, you liked sitting with him, and listening to him speak, and engaging him in light conversation about tides and wind resistance.

Something twists sharply in your chest at the thought of being only friends with him.

When you get back to your hotel room, you curl your hands into fists, anxious and determined to have it out before you find yourselves stuck in this strange purgatory for much longer.

You strike a match, lighting one of the scented candles you’d gotten in your time here, letting the aroma of sage and Palo Santo wood calm you. 

He’s in your bedroom taking a call, you can hear the calm cadence of his voice as you find the stupid divorce papers, pulling them out of their hiding place in your luggage.

You feel like you’re ambushing him, when you drop it onto the nearby marble countertop, bracing your arms on the sturdy surface and willing yourself to have the strength to say what you have to say.

You hear him step out of the room, his muffled footsteps as he approaches, and then slows down when he notices you.

You gulp, looking up at him, his face is calm, but it’s his eyes that hold all of his heartbreak.

“It’s time for that talk.” You whisper ominously.

He sucks in a shaky breath, approaching, giving you a sharp nod.

“I’ll start simple- I remember that night we got married.”

You watch him nod in understanding.

“I had the rings with me… hoping for a chance to work them in. You stopping to look at the veil was my perfect opportunity.”

“If I hadn’t stopped, did you have a backup plan?”

He glances down, nodding.

“I would have made you sign the papers and fabricated the witnesses.”

You shake your head.

“If I had been a little bit more sober-”

“-but you weren’t. You were tipsy enough to go along with me, and sober enough to consent. I kept you right on that precipice the entire night. I was standing on that balcony, counting the shots you were taking, making sure that you didn’t have more than you could handle. I wanted you impressionable, not unconscious.” 

You can’t fight the horror that his words draw out of you.

“You know how that makes me feel, right? Like I’m just some pawn in your twisted web.”

He swallows, nodding, he doesn’t meet your eyes.

“I know. I just don’t want to hide from you anymore.”

“Did you,” You struggle to ask the words, “Did you have any hand in Dominic breaking up with me?”

The corner of his mouth lifts, he shakes his head.

“I knew he would fuck up eventually. I wanted to kill him so many times, but I needed you to see him for the piece of shit he was.”

“Oh.”

You swallow, trying to get yourself together before you ask your next question.

“What if I didn’t go along with your trap? Would you have killed me?”

He glances up in shock at your question. You give him an apologetic smile, unable to phrase the question in a better way at the moment.

“I could never bear the thought of ever hurting you,” He whispers, approaching till he’s right in front of you. He raises a hand to cup your cheek, “However bad of a person you think I am, I need you to know that no matter what happens between us, I will always put your safety first. I’ve watched you from afar for years, I knew what kind of person you were before I’d ever slipped that ring onto your finger. I hoped that I could give you exactly what you needed if I had the chance.”

You swallow, eyelids fluttering at the soothing feeling of his hands on your face.

“If we got divorced. Would you keep stalking me?”

He holds your gaze, your heart hammering as he answers without hesitation.

“Yes.”

Well, that wasn’t terrifying at all.

“You-” You huff in exasperation, “Why didn’t you just ask me out on a date like a normal person?”

He chuckles.

“I keep trying to tell you- I’m not normal.”

You groan, laughing at his words in the next moment.

“Okay, I wish I had a clear answer, maybe I’m like a dog that isn’t socially adjusted so I do weird shit and hope I don’t get caught. I’ve never been like this before either, I’m usually more… subtle when I approach women. But there’s something about you, something that made me terrified of your rejection.”

His thumbs dance thoughtfully on your cheeks as he looks away, deep in his own head.

“And the more I got to know you, the more I saw you, the real you hiding under all those layers of anxiety and insecurity, I realised that we were more alike than expected.”

You gulp, your dark tryst in the castle coming to mind.

He looks back at you, those dark eyes of his trying to see into your mind.

“Can you honestly say, without a doubt, that you hated seeing how obsessed I was? Would you really rather watch me pretend to be less?”

“That’s not fair,” You argue, “You didn’t give me a choice.”

“I know,” He says firmly, “And don’t you love that?”

You gulp, raising your hands, you push him away, angry at the way he makes you feel with such a dangerous question.

“You’re so-” You were going to say ‘insane,’ but hadn’t he been admitting that the entire time?

You stop, your eyes drawing to the manilla envelope, the gears turning in your head at a too slow rate for you to comprehend.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” He begs.

It takes you a moment to get the words out.

“I’m… scared that I’ll regret my decision.”

Billy releases a slow breath, and when you turn your head to look at him, his eyebrows are drawn together, the faintest hint of a wrinkle in the space between. His eyes take on a glassy appearance as they fill with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry.” He finally whispers, and you can almost feel the defeat in the tone of his voice.

You glance away, unable to meet his eyes, there’s a strange feeling inside of you, a hurt you can feel coming but it’s not quite there yet.

“For what, exactly?”

“For… loving you the way I do.”

You try not to let your words choke you, though they beg for your decimation. You didn’t know heartache could come on so gradually.

“And what way is that?” You pry.

He’s quiet for a long time, and you glance up at him, seeing the way his words stick in his throat, the same way yours do, the way sweet words have the bitterest taste.

“Tell me.” You demand.

“Please.” You beg.

He still doesn’t meet your eyes.

“I’d let you ruin me, destroy every piece of me,” A slow breath, “If I could just stay with you a second more. A moth and a flame, Icarus and the sun. I don’t want to exist without you.”

Your mind reels with the implication that he thinks you’re going to be his destruction.

It’s a calm sort of anger, your hands shaking imperceptibly, your heart trembling in the very same way.

“Fuck you, Billy Russo.” 

His glassy eyes meet yours, dark pools of love and despair. He doesn’t look away, doesn’t shy from your anger, so ready to accept it, prepared for your rejection.

The way everyone in his life had abandoned him before.

“I didn’t choose this,” You hiss, stepping into his personal space, “I definitely didn’t ask for it. You took any agency I had and made it your own. You made me your own.”

He closes his eyes, it cracks your heart into pieces to watch tears stream down his face.

You reach up swiftly, locking your fingers behind his neck, bringing your face right up to his.

After a moment, you bring your thumbs up to wipe at the tears on the apple of his cheeks.

“You’re not Icarus, Billy, and I am not the sun.” You finally breathe to him.

He shakes his head, disagreeing with you silently.

“It’s true,” You urge, pressing your forehead to his, “You’re not falling.”

And with one final kiss to his lips, you reach over, grabbing the little pile of divorce papers, and letting the edge of it touch the flickering candle.

You hear his choked breath, and you smile, angling the papers so that the fire eats the material faster.

“Till death do us part.” You mumble to yourself, the finality of your decision sinking in, the immediate relief of it comes as fast as the fire does.

One moment he’s letting you hold him, and the next moment he reaches for the papers, pulling them from your hands and dropping them on the counter to continue burning. 

You open your mouth to protest, the papers are going to scorch the marble if they’re not moved, but Billy steals your focus, turning your face forcefully to pull you into a kiss.

You make a sound of surprise, eagerly responding to him, understanding how badly he needs to be reassured right now.

Your kisses are bruising, so forceful that they borderline on pain, you grip his shoulders, humming happily as he pulls you even closer together.  Your brain glitters like shattered glass, embracing sunlight.

“I love you,” He says into your mouth, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You can’t help your giggle.

“I love you too, Billy Russo.”

He groans, his hands roam your body, tugging your dress up on his way to squeeze your ass. His mouth is unrelenting, kissing over your neck, down to your clavicle. The pleasure you feel is alive under your skin, begging for more.

“My wife.” He hums in between kisses, “My perfect wife.”

You feel like you’re being mauled, and you can do nothing but take it, smoke fills your nose, and you turn your head to see the divorce papers almost halfway on fire.

You want to warn him about the fire alarm, but at the same time he turns you, pinning your front to the counter, tugging forcefully at the strap of your dress until you hear the seams rip. You only have a second to gasp before he bites down gently on your shoulder.

Pleasure explodes behind your eyes, you shudder as his hands find their way under your dress, palming over your panties, before he slips his warm hands under them.

“I need to feel you.” he breathes into your ear, the heat of his words setting your insides on fire and you nod, your body responding to every part of him.

His fingers find your clit easily, pressing down, he hums in approval when he finds you wet and swollen.

You make an embarrassing squeaking sound, his tongue gently tracing its way over your shoulder, and up your neck a little till his lips meet your ear.

“You're so wet, baby.” He praises easily, “Did hearing how obsessed I am for you get you like this?”

“Yes,” you groan, “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.”

He chuckles, palming your breast over your dress, while his fingers swirl purposefully over your clit, making your hips move in an attempt to grind on his hand.

“There’s no going back now, you know that right? I’m not letting you leave again. You’re mine. Forever.”

You nod frantically, understanding the consequences of setting the divorce papers on fire, glancing at them, watching the flame consume your only chance at escaping him.

“You’re mine now too.” You breathe.

He swears, pulling his hands away and spinning you once more to face him. His mouth finds yours just as he grips your hips firmly and seats you on the countertop. 

The marble is fucking cold against the back of your thighs, but you can’t help sinking your fingers into his hair and rubbing your tongue against his messily as you hear the clink of his belt being undone.

You smile into the kiss, thinking that he’s so feverishly eager for you and of course, you feel the exact same, reaching down to wrap your fingers around his magnificent cock, his answering groan into your mouth as you stroke him firmly, sending ripples of delight through you.

He huffs, pulling you to the edge of the countertop before tugging your panties to the side. You want this so badly that you feel the ache between your thighs worsen, a thrumming in your center that begs for relief. 

His eyes meet yours when you align the head of his cock to your entrance, searching your eyes for reassurance as he presses in.

“Deep breaths baby.” He guides, watching as your eyes roll shut, nodding your head. He’s big, you almost forgot how big, now astutely obvious as his cock demands you yield for him.

You try to relax as best as possible, feeling him sink in further, making you feel so full.

You whine his name, and he leans in to press a kiss to your mouth, unintentionally sinking himself deeper into you.

Your thighs tremble, wrapping around his hips, you bring your arms over his shoulders so you can bury your face in his neck.

“Doing so good,” He praises, “My perfect little wife.”

You make a keening sound, struggling not to clench around him prematurely, gripping the back of his neck, breathing him in as he fully fits himself into you.

You’re so wet, but it’s been a month without him and it stings in the deepest parts of you, brings about an ache that hurts and feels so undeniably good all at the same time.

He takes a moment, you feel him kiss the top of your head, the gentleness of the act unintentionally making you clench around him.

His next groan has an unhinged manner to it, drawing back subtly to press into you again.

Fuck, it feels immeasurably good, you baffle at the willpower he has to take it slow for your sake.

You can tell he’s trying hard to rein himself in. The veins on his neck poking out from beneath his skin, his breaths are all shuddery against your hair.

You want him insane with desire, tipping your head back, you look up at him before you whisper in your sweetest voice.

“Please, husband, I need you so bad.”

His breath catches in his throat, and you watch as all the self-control bleeds from his eyes.

He makes a low sound, one hand tightening on your hips, the other reaching up to tangle in your hair.

“I was trying to be nice, wife. But you don’t want nice, do you?”

You shake your head rapidly.

He snaps his hips forward, your mouth dropping open at just how forceful his movements are.

He does it again, and you can’t help the little sound of pleasure that leaves you, his cock, stretching you open in a painfully perfect way.

His hand tightens in your hair, tugging so that your head is tipped back while he keeps snapping his hips.

“Do you want me?” He asks, his words warm against your lips.

“Mmm, I do.” You hum in the affirmative.

He grunts.

“Say it.”

“I- ah- I want you.”

His nose brushes yours, “Fuck. Fuck.” he swears.

There’s nothing you can focus on except how primal this feels, to be taken like this, to freely give yourself to him, to feel each movement he makes and have your body respond with bliss. And then his actions grow more forceful, faster, your thighs tremble around his hips, your body shaking as the pleasure overwhelms you, pushing you right up to that edge before you can even comprehend the feeling.

He knows, you watch him grin as he realises how quickly you’re on that brink, body shaking, head swimming in hazy desire with each thrust he makes.

“Do it, sweetheart. Come all over your husband’s cock.”

Your body tightens, and with one final push of his hips, you hit your breaking point. 

An unintentional sound leaves you, your inner walls flutter around his cock as the shockwaves grow more intense, finally gripping him tightly, your eyes rolling back in your head as you lose control of your body. It feels like lightning, the way it electrifies each of your nerve endings, making you feel like there’s energy coming right out of you as you hit that peak.

Your fingers claw into his shirt, gripping for dear life as you come so hard you stop thinking. You hear him groan loudly, his cock fitted deep inside you as you explode around him, giving him exactly what he asked for. You squeeze him so tightly that you swear his length is imprinted into you, dropping your head into the crook of his neck as you come down.

You still shake in the aftermath, looking up at him, you give him a weak smile, holding him closely as you continue to tremble.

“Perfect.” He hums, leaning down to kiss you, and then he withdraws subtly to press into you again.

His pretense of control is all gone, you can tell by the wild look in his eye, and the sharp, uncontrolled movement of his hips. 

He’s so alluring in this moment, taking what he needs from you without apology, his hair askew from your hands, his body hot beneath all his clothes, your orgasm being drawn out by your perfect husband.

“I love you.” Are his last words before he buries his face in your hair and groans- his orgasm taking control of his movements, filling you with his cum.

You even feel his cock throb inside of you, your body so hypersensitive that you feel every little move he makes inside of you..

He laughs deliriously into your hair, and you find yourself smiling in turn.

“Fuck. That- was so fucking good, little wife.”

He studies you, strokes your hair, cups your face to tilt your head up so that he can keep kissing you passionately, moaning into the kiss like he’s still hungry for you, as if his spent cock isn’t already softening inside of you.

He waits, till you’re calm, till your body has stopped shaking, to withdraw himself.

You hum when you feel a touch of soreness, clenching when you can feel his cum, slipping out of you in that uncomfortably messy way you’ve grown to love.

“Does anything hurt?” He asks softly, bringing his mouth back to yours when you look away- glancing at the smoking pile of divorce papers.

“No,” You answer into his mouth because he gives you no other choice. He hums in delight, before scooping you up, walking you down the hallway towards your bed.

“I need to hold you.” He murmurs, as if you don’t already know, seating you on the bed as he undresses himself, kicking his pants away, and pulling his shirt off.

You wait patiently for his help, as he kneels in front of you, clad in only his boxers as he leans in, reaching around to unzip your dress.

You study his tattoo, as he tugs the torn dress down your torso, and you tilt your hips up to let him get it totally off.

You watch his eyes roam over your body, a pleased smile on his face. It takes him a few seconds to locate the ink on your hip.

He blinks, as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing, tilting his head, eyebrows draw together before he looks up at you in surprise.

“Is this real?” He questions, glancing down once more to trace his thumb along the edges.

It’s right at the front, over your hip joint, about the approximate size of your hand.

It’s the same snake that’s on his shoulder, except this time its fangs aren’t bared, its serpentine body is wrapped around the stem of a rose. 

You know what you wanted it to mean, that he owns you, in every dark possessive way he wanted. This was you, allowing yourself to be wrapped up in him, for better or for worse.

It was a sign, that you would always love him, no matter what.

“Snakes,” you whisper softly to him, too afraid to break the trance that he’s in, “shed their skins all the time. They are symbols of transformation and rebirth. Misunderstood, but deadly when underestimated.” You repeat the words he said to you as best as you could remember.

His eyes are filled with tears once more when he looks up at you, a shy smile graces your features as his dark eyes consume you.

His jaw tightens, as he rises, and goes from staring up to looking down.

Desire sparks once more in the deepest parts of you, his darkness is like an aphrodisiac, it makes you want to be very good for him.

“Get naked,” He hums, “Lie back on the bed.”

You tug the straps of your bra down frantically, and then your panties are tossed in his direction when you get them off.

When you settle, he presses his palms to the bed, crawling toward you, fingers gripping around your right ankle to bring it up to his face.

He kisses the inside of your ankle, beard scratching along your skin as he works his way up. His other hand finds your pussy, your mouth dropping open as he rubs his open palm messily over your cunt, his thumb swiping over your clit swiftly.

“Mine.” He finally whispers into your inner thigh, “You’re all mine.”

His words make you rut your hips into his messy palm.

He draws his palm away and you whine, breath stuttering when he brings his hand up to your face, hovering right above your nose.

“Taste us.” He says in a low tone that warns you not to question him. You huff, running your tongue along his palm, humming as you catch remnants of his cum and your arousal on his hand.

When you’re sure his palm is clean, you feel him drag his thumb over your lips, a deep concentration in his eyes, as though he’s trying to stop himself from doing something.

When his fingers go around your throat, cutting off your gasp with a squeeze, you finally begin to get a hint of what you’ve gotten yourself into.

“Tap me on the shoulder if it’s too much.” He murmurs with absolutely zero explanation, your eyes widening and he leans in, and you feel his hard cock pressing into you in the next moment.

You groan, the sound muffled by his hand on your throat, his cum from earlier making it so perfectly easy to slide right into you. 

You feel your body relaxing to accept him, the head of his cock touching your cervix in a way that makes you see stars, your breathing sharp and shallow while he grips your throat.

He begins with a rough pace, that only gets rougher as time goes on, grunting and moaning into your ear, whispering on shaky breaths every version of how good your cunt feels wrapped around his cock.

You wish you could respond to him, or even articulate a thought, but you can actually feel any semblance of thinking leave your head with each move of his body on yours.

Chest to chest, he gives you a delirious smile when he sees the tears of bliss slipping from your eyes, the grip on your throat eases, but doesn't relent.

“Were you hoping to see me react like this, little wife?” He leans in, licking at your tears, “Is this what you fucking wanted?”

You gasp, nodding violently. 

His skin slaps loudly against yours with how forceful his thrusts are, and you begin sobbing, begging him to never stop.

“Stop? No, sweetheart,” He withdraws from you, for only long enough to flip you over, tucking a pillow under your hips, leaning over you till you can feel his front pressed to your back.

“I'm not fucking stopping.” He whispers sweetly right before he enters you again.

Your moan is almost a shout, the way he feels so much bigger, and even more unrelenting in this position.

It doesn't take long before you're mewling out a warning that you're close to orgasm.

“Take every inch of my cock.” He grunts, speeding up the force of his thrusts until you feel like your body is about to supernova.

“I'm gonna keep you like this, nice and full of my cock until you beg me to stop.” He chuckles breathlessly over you, “Forever, little wife.”

Your eyes roll back in your head, your body stiffening as you cry out, before your orgasm slams into you, making you tremble violently as you come.

“That's it- oh fuck you're squeezing me so tight-” He groans, and while you come apart around him, you feel his movements stutter as he releases inside you once more.

You're still trembling as he pulls out of you, collapsing into the sheets as your body aches in sweet bliss. Billy grabs the pillow, tossing it behind him so that he can pull you into him.

You curl against his body happily, resting your head on his bicep, barely able to keep your eyes open but wanting desperately to be reminded of the things you've been missing when he wasn't around.

“I love you.” You sigh, the emotion building too much in your chest to be left unsaid.

He pauses his act of pulling a thin sheet over your bodies to look at you. Tilting his head he smiles softly, before cupping your jaw.

His kiss is deliciously slow, your heart fluttering softly in your chest at the sensation of his slow passion.

He breathes out a sigh, rubbing the length of his nose against yours. 

“Fuck. There aren’t words.” He hums to himself for a second, “Hold on let me think of some.”

You smile, opening your eyes when he raises his head a little, deep in thought, your eyes find their way to the beautiful snake inked onto his perfect skin.

“You don’t have to,” You whisper, “...Find the words I mean.”

“I really do, I need you to understand how much you mean to me.”

“I know.” You protest softly, pressing your palm to his face, moving over his jaw, and down his neck.

He blinks, looking down at you.

“I want to feel your body crushed next to mine in the morning when I wake up. I want to memorise the colour of your eyes in the darkness before I fall asleep.”

He pauses, his eyebrows drawing together as he searches the deepest parts of his brain for the right words.

“I want you to reach out and touch me anytime you want, because when you do, you remind me that there’s a person out there that sees me- all of me- and you’re not scared of it.”

You take a slow breath, trying not to disrupt his thoughts, desperate, hanging on to his every word.

“I’ve spent my entire life trying to be worth something, to convince people that I belonged wherever I was, but I never really believed it… until I met you.”

He finally meets your gaze, tilting his head, giving you a small smile.

“I don’t just love you. It’s more than that. You’re my reason. You’re why I breathe.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, an ache in your chest as you look into his eyes. 

You say his name softly, fingers tangling in his hair as you coax his mouth down to yours.

He groans into it, cupping your jaw to tilt your chin higher.

“My wife.” He whispers into your mouth, before he kisses you again and again.

You grin.

“My husband.” You reply.

.

“What’s taking you so long?” You call from your spot in the warm bath, glancing at the open door, trying to catch any sight of Billy moving around.

“Patience, wife, I’m just getting something.” He calls back.

“Get it faster,” You whine, “I miss you.”

He steps into your line of sight, grinning at you as he raises one of those fancy water bottles in explanation.

You almost want to ask, but you assume he’s bringing water and not wine because of the copious amounts that ‘Dave’ has seen you drink in the last week.

He places the water on the ledge beside you, before kicking his boxers down his legs. You lean forward, allowing him to slide in right behind you, smiling when he grips your hips to pull you into his lap in the warm water.

“I remember our first bath.” He teases, bringing a hand up between your breasts just like the first time, to wrap his slender fingers around your throat.

“What was it I said? Nothing feels more right than this.”

You laugh, closing your eyes, settling against him.

“I have something for you.” He murmurs, and you open your eyes, turning your head to look up at him, thinking about all the possibilities and zeroing in on the most probable.

You can’t help your grin, raising your left hand out of the water expectantly.

Billy blinks in surprise, before he chuckles, reaching to pick up something on the ledge beside him, before he slides it onto your finger.

“You might know me a little too well.” He acknowledges, as you watch your wedding ring glint under all the suds clinging to your hand.

You link your left hand with his right, letting it settle under the water as you relax into him once more, a small kiss to your head.

“If there was anywhere else in the world you wanted to be right now… where would it be?” Billy asks after a few moments, his voice is low and calm, as at ease as you feel.

The corner of your mouth ticks up in mischief.

“I would be… hmm… in a cozy little cabin in the snowy woods.”

He hums, amused.

“All by yourself?”

“No, I have my bodyguard, Dave with me.”

It’s not an answer he was expecting.

“Dave?” Billy asks with an incredulous tone.

You giggle.

“Yeah, it’s cold, and I want to get cozy, and I sort of annoy my bodyguard Dave by making him do things for me because I’m not the best at keeping tabs of everything, so I boss him around a lot, the poor guy.”

“I’m sure Dave likes being bossed around by you.” Billy thinks aloud, playing along.

You nod.

“Yeah, but I’m especially bossy this time, and the snow gets worse, and I make the mistake of drinking a little too much alcohol because it makes me feel so warm.”

You can almost feel the air supercharge with electricity when Billy realises where this is going.

“Definitely, a poor choice, princess.” He murmurs, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.

You clench around nothing, trying to stay perfectly still.

Nodding, you continue talking as if nothing is wrong, “Dave would probably be so angry, having to take care of me, I doubt that’s even his job.”

“On the contrary,” Billy interjects, “His job is to protect you, even if that’s from yourself. If you push him enough, there’s no telling what he might do- or how he might go about teaching you discipline.”

A low moan of delight leaves your throat, you find your hips rolling in need, desperate for friction.

“He’d probably pull my clothes off, so he could touch every part of me, cuffing my hands behind my back-” You shudder when Billy’s fingers find your clit, rubbing generously at the aching spot under the warm water.

“He’d fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk, mark your pretty skin so that you knew, deep down, who’s really in charge.” Billy raises his other hand to pluck gently at your stiff nipples.

You grin, nodding.

“And then, when I’m nice and full and dripping with his cum, he takes a few pictures so that he can tease me about them later.”

“That’s quite a dream, little wife.”

You smile, turning your head to kiss the column of his neck.

“No rush, we’ll take our time working up to that.”

He kisses the top of your head.

“Of course.”

You shift your hips, feeling his stiff erection under you- telling you exactly how he felt about your pretend scenario. 

There were so many things you wanted to do with him, and you couldn’t wait, the prospect of a lifetime with Billy Russo made you happier than you could imagine. Even better, the knowledge that he was just as content with you, as you were with him, made all of the hardships of the past, present and future seem absolutely worth it.

Because when it really came down to it, you were together now, and it didn’t matter how it started, whether it was accidentally,

Or on purpose.

.

.

.

[vargamornight]

i just remembered when i was in the eighth grade my middle school was having some kind of giveaway and the way you got a prize was they put little targets on the ground on the other side of a volleyball net and you had to hit the target for the thing you wanted to win. or you could just hope, i guess. but i am, and this feels like a brag but it's literally just a statement of fact, so fucking good at volleyball it's not even funny.

so my mom and i went to the thing and i asked her what prize she wanted. there were mp3 players, sweatshirts, coupon books, that kind of stuff. she said she wanted the sweatshirt. since i was on the volleyball team i got one hit for free so i went up, hit the sweatshirt target effortlessly, and brought it back to my mom. and now that i think of it, y'know, that would've been a really good time for her to be like "wow that was amazing, thank you for doing that for me when you could have won something for yourself" but no she was a wretched ungrateful bitch who never gave me a compliment in my entire life, leading me to be an olympic level athlete at 20 with no idea that that was out of the ordinary because nobody ever fuckin said anything

[little-bumblebeeee]

Just got turned down by a straight girl who I thought was gay lemme go write about it

[schoolhater]

answering a couple questions i got on this post since i realized ppl genuinely wanna know:

tl;dr:

israel lets very, very little aid get into gaza. even the UN can't get in as much as they want to. funding individual families, gazan led initiatives, and mutual aid collectives operating out of gaza ensures gazans can provide for themselves and pay for the extremely expensive aid that is available.

with all the civil infrastructure destroyed by israel, the situation on the ground has devolved into unrestricted capitalism, driving up the price of aid (that should be free!). this makes it more urgent for people to have funding for daily survival.

the post linked above has examples of how donating to individual families can help a lot. if you want to help more than one family at a time, there are many gazan-led initiatives focusing on rebuilding their infrastructure and distributing aid fairly that are worth donating to instead of large charities that already get the majority of donations.

as i mentioned in the last post: @/careforgaza on twitter is a nonprofit started by gazans, it's been endorsed by multiple palestinian journalists.

the sameer project is a collective organized by diaspora palestinians offering emergency shelter to gazans.

ele elna elak is a project aiming to bring water, food, shelter, etc. to gazans and has been promoted by bisan owda.

and the municipality of gaza itself is fundraising to rebuild water infrastructure.

all of these organizations are active inside gaza right now and are being run by gazans. if anyone knows of other gazan-led mutual aid projects, nonprofits or charities feel free to link them in the notes! hope this helped!

long answers under the cut!

if you wanna donate to a charity that's absolutely fine, but the thing is most charities (and even the UN!) are unable to make it into gaza in the first place, leaving aid rotting at the egyptian side of the border or subject to israeli settler attacks

not to mention, charities and nonprofits also maintain a paternalistic colonial relationship with the indigenous people they are trying to help, determining what aid they need for them instead of returning power to them and letting them make their own choices

i'm not here to say that one option is better than the other, just that they achieve different things and are equally legitimate. there's an attitude among people who question the legitimacy of these gofundme campaigns that somehow the people promoting them are telling them not to donate to charities. nobody is stopping you from donating to charities. we are just asking that you do not dehumanize the very real gazans in your inbox just because their method of asking for aid is more direct and risky.

unfortunately that's exactly what has happened. because israel destroyed all of gaza's more formalized infrastructure, it seems that organized crime and rampant inflation has taken its place. aid is supposed to be free, but in order to save for evacuation or the cost of living, people have started selling them at an inflated price. and aid that is truly free attracts intense, large crowds that are dangerous to navigate.

this was posted on abc a few days ago

it's pure, unrestrained capitalism. i've had multiple palestinians describe this situation to me confidence. that's why everything's so expensive now. why people have to rent out tiny plots of land for their tents to sit on, why my friend @siraj2024 still has to buy tarps to cover the broken windows of the overpriced bombed out apartment he rented, and why a bag of flour can cost a thousand bucks in the north.

even before israel closed and then bombed the rafah crossing, the egyptian hala travel agency was only allowing people to cross the border if they paid a hefty $5000 USD per adult / $2500 USD per child bribe. it denies doing this, but the hundreds of stories from palestinians say otherwise.

with regard to the economy, here in america we saw something similar happen in the wake of hurricane helene and milton. the podcaster margaret killjoy describes how she saw dual economies rise after asheville was fully cut off from the rest of the country - some people offered each other supplies for free in a sort of mutual aid honor system, and some people required payment when they lent supplies because they themselves needed to buy stuff for their families. these dual economies exist in gaza too. and this means they all still need money to survive.

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

So glad I put the bed in there for her tonight

I felt so bad not having one in there last night but I dont wanna wash that bed if I don't have too. It's kind of a pain cuz if you don't get something else in there to balance out the weight the washing machine starts walking around the basement (which is true of all laundry but that bed is HEAVY when it's wet so it's more likely to cause problems)

Shes not waking up every 30-40 minutes crying. She wasn't shivering when I took her out to go potty just now. And she didn't even wanna get up when I took her out. Without the bed she was rushing the door the second my hand was near it.

[deanpinterester]

rebel is flagsmashing 101 if i've ever seen one "what if the guy who wants to change the oppressive status quo....... actually secretly wanted to be an evil dictator!" we've seen this story a billion times

[bootycallin]

B(W)ETTER THAN ME !?

꩜ .ᐟ basically: vi hears from you that it's practically impossible for you to cum without having your clit played with, and guys never seem to find it to begin with. she takes that as a challenge.

cw: female reader with female anatomy. close friend vi. you can read this as modern au if you want, idfk. strap usage. doggy and then into another position idk the name of. manhandling. mentions of edging. petnames (doll, baby, etc.). overstimulation? squirting. very self indulgent if you couldn't tell. no plot just pôrn.

a/n; shoutout to my girls who are literally impossible to please without playing w they clit, we fightin for our lives over here. don’t expect a lot of pretty looking posts like this, i got excited. again, if any stuffs missing, pls tell me!! hope u like it…

NSFW UTC

"oh, really, doll?" it was an innocent conversation at first, you swore it was. you really don't know how it wound up with you bent over, face down ass up in your bed. your dearest friend, vi, right behind you. pounding into you. "it's frustrating," you said. "i can never cum from somebody just fucking me. no guy even knows that the clit exists either." you had been around vi enough to confide in her, even with your most intimate stories and complaints. what you didn't know is that by saying that, you inadvertantly challenged her.

"fuck, vi, wait--" you gasp, hand clumsily reaching behind you, feeling up her hipbone to her hard abs, glistened with sweat. "break. break. break." she had been plowing into you for what felt like hours now. realistically, it might only be a few minutes, but it's far longer than any other dude you had a fling with. for a second you wonder what the fuck she's eating to have this sort of stamina, because it sure as hell isn't human. "hurts?" she asked you, tone way too kind and sweet for the position she had you in. "no," you pant. "just... just gimme a sec--" it didn't hurt. quite the opposite-- it felt amazing. like nirvana except maybe ten times filthier. she was pounding you to cloud nine and back and gods, it felt good, but you still hadn't cum. right, she didn't play with your clit once. because she has to prove a point! she doesn't care how long shes gonna spend plowing into you with this goddamn strap, she wants to give you the best orgasm of your life, clit untouched. right now, for somebody that had never done this-- it was torture. a constant build-up, her tip repeatedly kissing the deepest places inside you until you felt like she was in your guts, rubbing against your slick walls, filling you up so good. it was too much, but not enough at the same time.

you didn't know, but she was being tortured too. she silently vowed to herself the moment she manhandled you onto your bed that she would not cum until you did. so, she's just sorta been edging herself for the past, like, seven minutes. may the higher lords of sex bless doggy, because were you to see her face right now, her ego would be destroyed. sweaty, red, nearly teary-eyed.

"want me to sto-"

"no," you answer just a tad too quickly. she cracks an amused huff at that, hands trailing up and down the curve of your ass, squeezing the plump flesh.

"fuck- just- gh!-"

you didn't have to finish the goddamn sentence, because when you were about to, vi has your wrists in her hands, pulling back and slamming forward into you with a guttural growl. it’s harsher, it’s meaner, and it feels so goddamn good.

you don't even realize what's happening until your back presses against her chest. she pulled you up against her, hands still wrapped tightly together as she rut into you. with the closer proximity, her face buried into the crook of your neck. you could hear her panting, groaning, growling with every smack of her hips against yours. oh, and she could hear every little cry that came from you when she rut into that little spot you always found hard to reach.

oh, vi. shit, fuck, fuck me, yes. oh, she's gonna be dreaming about you for a while after this.

"viii!--" you whine, throwing your head back. there it was again, that heat bubbling in your stomach like a boiling pot, ready to boil over. it was stronger. far stronger. your head was fuzzy with the feeling.

"shit, vi-- fuck, fuck, fuck, i think i-"

"close, doll?" she growled. she just barely gives you the time to respond, shuffling a bit so she could angle her hips up, and oh-

"vi!" found it. head first (literally) ramming into that gooey, sensitive and swollen bundle of nerves, the good old g. bet none of those guys were able to find it, huh, baby?

she growls into your shoulder when she feels your stubby little nails scratch at her lower abdomen, where she held your wrists back tight. you were close, she was close, she could feel it. perfect.

"vi, wait, shiiit!--" you cry out, but she's not stopping. it's too much to process, unlike anything you've ever felt before. you can feel the pressure building exponentially, your abused little cunt spasming around her cock, clenching so tight she nearly finds it hard to move if it weren't for the drippy slick running down your folds. it's strange, and for a second you're worried with the pressure building in your bladder, only to send shocks up to your clit.

"fuck, shit, it's weird, vi--" your head lolls back against her shoulder, jaw hanging open as you let out wanton cries and babbles.

"it's 'right, baby. jus' let go, come on..." she doesn't know if shes talking to you or herself. but she knows it works--

you finally cum with a dragged out whine of her name (that almost sounded like a scream, to be fair. she's surprised your throat isn't hoarse). you swear you black out for a second, vision going white as you feel like you explode into pleasured little pieces. and--

oh. oh.

the splashing of that milky, yet watery liquid, gushing all over her cock. damn, that's fucking hot. you should see yourself from her point of view. not only does she make you cum, she makes you squirt. vi takes that as enough victory to rut into you until she reaches her own orgasm-- which, to be fair, doesn't take too long since she's been on the edge of cumming for the past few minutes. she buries her face into your shoulder, eyes screwed shut. it still steals a few more whimpers and whines from you--and from her too, but she manages to hide them by biting your shoulder with a grunt.

too weak by both of your highs to keep upright, she ends up sitting back down onto the mattress, letting go of your arms only to wrap her own around your waist, cinching you two closer from behind. her strap has long since slipped out of you, leaving you dripping and empty, but ultimately satisfied.

"enjoy yourself?" you need a few minutes to come to and fro, blinking a few times before you see where vi is looking and look towards the direction, only to see the darkened, wet spot of your own making on you sheets. fuck.

"oh shit, that's--" you sound embarrassed, and she's quick to cut you off.

"it's fine, baby. just glad you enjoyed yourself." she chuckled. gods, she's so sweet when she wants to be. she runs her hands over your sides, kissing your nape.

"but you owe it to me, was that not the best orgasm of your life?" she whispers into your ear, her hand trailing down and down and down, until her ring and middle finger press against your twitchy clit, earning a sharp gasp from you.

"imagine what i could do playing with this pretty thing, though?"

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ

[sinkuna]

୨୧ — Sukuna watched as you tended to the herbs just outside his temple, your movements carrying that same gentleness as always. You hummed softly while working, a melody that seemed to make even the weeds lean towards you. The swell of your stomach was prominent now, a visible reminder of how you had changed everything, and something in him always urged him to be closer to you- a possessiveness that had only grown over the past few months. 

He hated it. But above all, he hated the way his curse energy would flow around the surrounding area, like a protective shroud meant solely for you… And he refused to acknowledge how his multiple eyes would track every subtle shift in your expression…

"Ryomen! Look at this one!" your voice held nothing but genuine delight as you held up a particularly vibrant herb. 

"Tch. Still wasting your time with these worthless weeds?" he scoffed, but his eyes never left your form. He took notice of the way your fingers carefully caressed the delicate thing and the small smile that tugged at your lips, and it was only then did he realize that your hair had grown a little longer... 

"One day," he heard you murmur, your voice carrying in the evening breeze, "you might need these."  

The mere suggestion that he, the king of curses, might need such mundane remedies should have enraged him, and to a certain degree it did, but he was so transfixed on your fingers, the same fingers that always dared to trace his black markings, that his retort lacked it’s usual venom. 

"Someone like me has no use for such worthless things." the mouth on his stomach grinned, "You are aware of the difference between us, aren't you? Or has that brat inside of you softened that brain of yours?"

His gaze flickered to your stomach, where his child grew stronger each day.

That’s when you turned to him with that damn smile, it was like freshly fallen snow, untouched and pure… And it always awakened two warring instincts within him. The first was to destroy you, to corrupt, and to taint that purity until nothing remained and you were left bloody in his arms… And then there was the second, the newer, more terrifying one that made him want to preserve it at all costs…

"Oh? No use for such worthless things?" you tilted your head playfully, reminding him of that first day in the forest where he met you, "Hmm~ Is that why you still wear my scarf? If you have no use for such worthless things, then I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I took it back."

The memory of how you had wrapped it around him had been burned into his memory... like a fucking curse. How you approached him in the forest while bodies lay scattered around him, your eyes full of concern rather than terror. He didn’t know at the time the men he slaughtered were after you- didn’t know that his fun little killing spree would leave him stuck with you like a thorn in a wound. 

A thorn he couldn't be bothered with removing...

"You’re bleeding," you had said then, as if he were some ordinary injured traveler. Before he could slice that pretty head of yours clean off, you had already removed your scarf, standing on your tiptoes, tongue sticking out in concentration as you tended to the wound and wrapped it around his neck even though it would heal in moments…   

His four arms hung beside him at your audacity, as you dared to care for the King of Curses.

"It’s not much," you had whispered, "but it should help keep the wound clean until it heals" then you had smiled- that same one you wore now. 

So lost in the memory, Sukuna hadn’t even noticed you were now standing before him, reaching out towards him with the intent of tugging your scarf free from his body and he reacted. Faster than he should have been and snatched your hand away before you could even graze the fabric. 

"Do. Not." 

His eyes were narrowed, and his voice was low, a growl that echoed across the temple grounds, but you had become immune to the sound. His other hand unconsciously rose to touch the now worn fabric at his neck, it still carried traces of your scent after all this time.

"Watch yourself, woman. I could still slice that fragile neck of yours. Devour you where you stand. Don't be mistaken, you're not safe just because you're carrying my child."

"Mmhmm," you hummed, entirely unafraid as you leaned into him so that you could place a chaste kiss against his jawline, "Is that why you let me sleep in your bed? Why you allow only i to say your real name... And why you-" 

"Be silent." he spat, and yet his grip on your hand loosened, allowing your fingers to slip through his and intertwine, "Insolent creature…" but his other hands were merciful as they settled on your waist.

"If you wanted to kill me, Ryomen, you would have done so a long time ago." 

"You think too highly of yourself. You're a means to an end, a tool."

Your smile never wavered for a second, "Is that so? Then I must be a very special tool. I don't believe anyone else would get away with the things I do."

"Foolish little lamb." He let out a low grunt, pressing his forehead to yours in a gesture that had become as natural as breathing, "I will admit," his lips curled into a smirk as he pulled you flush against his body, "you've made the last few months a little less boring. But if I tire of your presence, I won't hesitate to kill you." 

"Your foolish woman." You corrected, and with a soft chuckle, you pulled back slightly so that you could cup his face, "And you won’t kill me before the baby is born, right? That would be a shame."

Sukuna scowled, "Don't test me."

"Never." you promised sweetly, but he knew you’d continue to do so regardless.

The King of Curses would never admit it, but the thought of you dead- the thought of anyone daring to harm you or his child was enough to awaken a a whole new kind of bloodlust, unlike anything he had felt in centuries. He would paint the lands red with the blood of any who tried, would hang their entrails from the highest trees as a warning, would burn the world to ash before letting harm come to what was his.

Prt 3.

[usuallydyinginside]

"No One Mourns the Wicked" is about Glinda, not Elphaba

Okay, but hear me out. Wicked songs are so good at saying one thing and meaning something entirely different once you have more context. For instance, "I'm Not That Girl" is Elphaba singing about Glinda initially, then in Act 2 flips to Glinda singing about Elphaba. Because it turns out, Elphaba IS that girl and Glinda is not. When we meet the Wizard, he sings about how he always wanted to be a father. When you get to Act 2, you get the sad little reprise in the background music as he realizes that WHOOPS, he was one and he destroyed his only kid. "Defying Gravity" starts with "I hope you're happy" in the sarcastic sense and ends with them both using the same phrase to genuinely wish one another well.

"Thank Goodness" is set up as a cheerful engagement song where Glinda genuinely means "thank goodness for how great my life is" and ends in a place where she's insisting that she IS happy even as she realizes her engagement is a sham, her best friend is gone, and she's left with the Wizard and Madame M, who she doesn't even like.

You get the picture.

Basically, the whole musical is about subverting what you expect, starting with the base premise of "what if the Wicked Witch was the hero of the story" and digging in from there.

Honestly, I'd never paid much attention to the first song. It's a good opener, sets things up well, but it has some big competition with later songs. However, in the movie the staging and camera choices made me really notice it for the first time. Because you know what? Someone DID pay attention to that song, and you can really really tell.

For those who need a refresher, the lyrics to the chorus Glinda sings are: And Goodness knows The Wicked's lives are lonely Goodness knows The Wicked die alone It just shows when you're Wicked You're left only On your own I was always so busy noticing Glinda's grief over thinking Elphaba was genuinely dead that I failed to notice Glinda's grief over her OWN fate. The movie did such a good job with this because every time we get to the pink lines about being alone, Glinda IS alone. She is standing apart from the crowd who adores her. Standing above them. Standing at the center of a bunch of people yet still, isolated.

Because in the end, we know that Elphaba DIDN'T die alone. We know she wasn't on her own. We know her life WASN'T lonely ultimately. She had her flying monkey and animal friends. She had Fiyero.

And who does Glinda have?

Everyone, but realistically, no one. She is an ideal, not a person to most of Oz, just as much as Elphaba has become the token scapegoat. Where Elphaba is the "Wicked Witch," Glinda is "Glinda the Good Witch" - she is literally supposed to be the embodiment of goodness.

And what does Glinda have at the end of this whole thing (as of this song at least)? A disastrous end to her engagement, the death of her best friend, a sorceress who has hated her, demeaned her, and dismissed her from the start, and a con man who is also just a symbol more than a person.

I think it really hit me when Glinda throws the fire on the giant effigy of Elphaba. Ariana's acting was SO good there, because I'd expected us to see that private moment of horror or regret. What I didn't expect was the sort of determined and almost angry glare at the effigy.

But it makes sense. At this point, Glinda has realized that she lost everything and everyone she actually cared about.

As she so aptly puts it in "Thank Goodness"...

Though it is, I admit The tiniest bit Unlike I anticipated. But I couldn't be happier, Simply couldn't be happier, Well, not "simply" 'Cause getting your dreams It's strange, but it seems A little, well, complicated.

There's a kind of a sort of cost. There's a couple of things get lost. There are bridges you cross You didn't know you crossed Until you've crossed!

And if that joy, that thrill Doesn't thrill like you think it will Still-- With this perfect finale, The cheers and the ballyhoo! Who wouldn't be happier? So I couldn't be happier, Because happy is what happens When all your dreams come true.

Well, isn't it?

Happy is what happens when you're dreams come true.

It's not Elphaba's fault that Glinda has ended up this way. Glinda chose it every step of the way. Yet, if Glinda had never met Elphaba, (if she'd never known her, you could say), she might have stayed shallow and vain. She might never have been challenged to look deeper and realize how empty it all felt.

So as Glinda sings "No One Mourns the Wicked," she realizes that even if the Munchkins are singing about the "Wicked Witch," she's not.

She's singing about herself.

The one who traded her morals, friendship, and love for a taste of the admiration and power over those who don't really know her. The one who was so worried about being likable that she herself doesn't like who she's become.

Even after she makes things better for Oz and herself by sending the wizard away and getting rid of Madame M, it just leaves Glinda by herself as the leader and source of goodness in Oz. It leaves her on a pedestal she can never step off of.

It leaves her lonely.

Entirely alone.