#and its meaningful and good for him to try and be better and more mindful about it on his difficult path of healing

[hmsdoodlin]

It’s Christmas so I won’t be posting a doodle today, but I do have a devious little idea to plague your day. Merry Christmas! Happy holidays! :D wishing everyone a good festive season 💪💪

———

Imagine this. HMS are all sitting around their Christmas tree, they’ve been in Concord a lot longer than usual. For the last gift of the night Mind places a heavy box in Hearts hands, and when he opens it there’s a gun inside.

A pistol, maybe a revolver, anything you want or could imagine but it’s absolutely stunning. Hand crafted by Mind himself, carved with celestial details and hearts on the handle and barrel.

As soon as Heart realizes what it is he freezes, the cold metal almost feeling like it’s burning through his skin. He’s upset at first, jumping to conclusions and believing this all to be a sick joke. Mind only clears his throat, covered in static and awkwardly trying to explain himself.

He started building and taking apart the gun a while ago. After the Juno incident he wanted to figure out how it worked and convinced himself that if he knew its mechanisms it could never hurt him again. It worked like exposure therapy, and eventually it lay forgotten under his bed as he healed.

Then Whole got better. Heart got better. As the days passed and Cacophony seemed farther and farther behind them he finally felt safe again in his own home. Trying to rebuild their relationship was hard, but what better way to fully make amends then to give back the thing that almost ruined you? He thought it was silly, to put so much emphasis on an object like this. But he knew Heart would understand, and a part of him wanted this closure.

He spent weeks meticulously carving it, wanting to make sure that Heart could feel every single detail. If he had no eyes to see its beauty then he’d just have to get creative.

Heart throws himself into Minds arms at the revelation, the two of them reconciling beside the tree with loud sobs and awkward back pats. Heart swears that this is the most meaningful gift he’s ever gotten, he’s been fully forgiven and life can truly start anew for him. No more guilt, no more shame. Mind trusted him with a weapon, he trusted him with the weapon. Things were going to be ok, they had finally reached harmony. Mind allows his worries to melt away, he trusts Heart, they would never hurt each other ever again.

Three months later they split and a new loop starts. Heart can’t remember where he got the gun that sits heavy in his hands pointed directly at Mind. He’ll never know why it hurts so much to pull the trigger, and Mind will never understand why all he can feel is sorrow and betrayal.

[serendark]

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.

[loviestar58]

💚~Ekko bf/general HC's~💚

Just like everyone else, I'm in love with the boy who shattered time, so I made some HC's I have for him. Some are pertaining to him being your lover, others are just general headcannons

Enjoy‼️💖

⏳~Ekko likes to have "Work dates". Where you both either hang out in Ekkos workshop or down in the open Hideout and work on stuff together. It's mostly in Ekkos workshop though, him tinkering with something or trying to create or improve an invention for the firelights. You would help bounce ideas off of his own or would help with tool organization. When not talking about work, it'd be silent, music on an old record player playing in the space. You would hum the music and Ekko would join sometimes as he worked. Other times you just have small talk or make jokes with each other, just having some fun as you hang out together. And yes, many kisses would be stolen by each other during this

⏳~He has a bit of a short temper, and due to this you can get into small fights sometimes. Resulting in either you both being silent to each other for a day with some space from each other or a big argument that causes both to be stressed and can last for a good while. It never gets too bad, but it still hurts both of you. Arguments/reasons can range from being unsafe, pet peeves, mistakes being made, to stress getting the best of him

Ekko is usually the one to apologize first even if he's in the right. He'll usually make a gift for you to show his apology along with strong, meaningful words, owning up to his mistakes. You both always talk and make up. Never staying mad for too long, communicating effectively. It was a struggle at first, but it got better over time, more on Ekkos end

He can never stay angry at you or hold a grudge for too long

⏳~Some days Ekko is so dead tired that he'll go to your room, startling you, and before you could ask what was wrong, he'd flop right on top of you and zonk out. Yeah, you cannot escape. Once he's asleep, he's asleep. And he's heavy.

So unfortunately you just gotta lay there under his weight for like two hours, crushed ribs and rough breathing. But you don't mind. You'd'd just wrap your arms around him and try your best to shift him on his side so you could cuddle and hold him. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't

⏳~On the flip side, if the day has taken its toll on you, say if you're physically and mentally tired but Ekko isn't, you'd go to his room and ask for cuddles or just any kind of comfort. Ekko would always comply, even if he was working on some stuff, he'd allow you to sit on his lap as he worked, one hand writing things down while the other rubs your back in soothing motions, him rambling about his tech while turning his head to plant a kiss to your neck or temple every now and then for the added comfort before continuing to ramble

⏳~Ekko draws you all the time. We've all seen the murals and his sketchbooks. He has a specific sketchbook full of silly doodles and serious art pieces of you at pretty much every angle. Different outfits, expressions, poses, everything. You're his muse and he can't help but capture the beauty he sees when he sees it. It's not too often, but once he gets to drawing, there's no stopping him. You take notice of this pretty quickly, not like he hides it, he proudly shows you his art of you. It makes you blush and flustered every time, cause you never thought anyone would see you this way. Ekko relishes in that red face and goofy smile you get seeing a picture, smiling his gap-toothed grin himself, feeling proud of himself before starting to draw you again, you watching as his eyes flick to her every few seconds, both of your hearts beating hard in your chests. Oh to be loved by an artist

⏳~You both take turns being the yapper and the listener in the relationship. Some days it could be Ekko talking about his tech and how it works while you listen and barely understands a word, other days it's you rambling on and on about this cool book series you read, an artist you like, or something cool you saw. Or honestly just your day, he loves hearing about what you get up to in the Hideout. Ekko listens and gives his thoughts and commentary on what you say. On the days you both feel like yapping, get ready for quick back and forth banter and talking, overlapping ideas and media, and bursts of passion in the case of yelling. This, as well as nothing getting done that day

⏳~As a goodbye or a hello, he presses your foreheads together for a solid few seconds, eyes closed and relishing in each others presence. The most intimate gesture of affection for Zaunites. Each of you usually has a hand on the others cheek or neck to hold each other there. If it's a more dramatic/heartfelt greeting or departure, you'll kiss instead, wanting something a bit more intimate, desperate firm grips and bodies pressed together in a loving embrace

⏳~Ekko has a habit of staring. Not a glare, or even zoned out. It's always soft admiration and observation. His eyes would be soft and round, a subtle shine to them as his pupils dialte with love as he looks at you. His eyebrows wouldn't be furrowed as usual, down in a gentle and relaxed manner. He'd have the softest smile tug on his lips, maybe even sigh dreamily, just admiring the person he managed to call his own in this chaotic world.

⏳~Ekko tinkers and invents, so he's always trying to come up with silly little gadgets or items to make for you. His favorite things are making metal flowers, small toys, and accessories. He'd given you a small amount of metal flowers one time when he found you looking at the small flowers growing at the bottom of the tree. "They aren't as beautiful as the real thing, but at least these will last longer". Yeah, he's a bit cheesy, I said it. He made a small firelight shaped night light for you to use in case you got up in the middle of the night. And he has made multiple accessories for you: pairs of earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and rings for you to wear, if you like jewelery. You appreciate each and every gift, but always tells him he doesn't have to give you anything. He does anyways, it's one of his love languages. He can't help it. And even if it wasn't, he'd make you as many gifts as he likes cause he loves you, that's it

⏳~Ekko is ticklish on his neck and sides. You takes full advantage of this by poking his sides unexpectedly, which earns you a startled "Ah! Hey!" and Ekko curling up to defend himself, all while you laugh. You'd sneak up on Ekko and jump on his back, hugging him close before placing a kiss on his neck, he'd recoil like a turtle and try to get you off, but you'd hang on and keep going at his neck to make him laugh more, the sweet smooth sounds of it music to you ears. Plus it was funny to see him recoil like that

Likes/reblogs/comments are appreciated ‼️

This is new for me lol, I love him sm. I have a few more but this should be enough for now

Moots from other platforms and irls if you see this, no you don't 😁

Maybe more of this soon??? Idk we'll see...

Itty bitty scary tag uhhh @misswynters

[nightgnarpy]

The fact despite how damaged Mcguckets mind was he still loved and knew who his son was was so sad to me, he still tried to be a good dad even if he couldn’t be the best, he knew he wasn’t the best dad and he wanted to try still

Like it’s so sad ☹️☹️☹️

AND THEN THE END OF WEIRDMAGEDDON WHEN HE WAS WITH HIS SON? It hurt me so much dude 😭😭🩵 his son forgave him (or is trying to) BECAUSE HIS DAD IS TRYING TO BE BETTER SND HIS DAD LOVES HIM

OHHH MY GOD 😭😭😭🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵 ITS SO CUTE.

I WISH THESE 2 HAD MORE SCREEN TIME TOGETHER I SOOO WISH WE GOT AN EPISODE WITH TATE AND FIDDLEFORD BONDING IT WOULD OF BEEN SUCH A CUTE MEANINGFUL EPISODE 🩵🩵🩵😭😭😭😭😭

[guiltycorp]

Damn i really want to know tf happened in the writing room of arcane s2. Some of the downgrades were inevitable due to the show's corporate limitations (not being able to progress the class war story in a meaningful way, having to tie things back to league of legends in terms of making playable characters more appealing to well, play... rip Mel and Viktor in particular), sure. But i still feel like it's even worse than that? There are so many bad decisions that i couldn't even start listing them all... the characters, plot, pacing, themes, it's just such a mess? Even the dialogue writing, it feels much more mm Marvel at its worst i suppose. What i am most bothered by is probably just the straight up harmful messaging so um... Cycles of violence and abuse can be broken by individual decisions to become a better person! Got nothing to do with systemic oppression, living conditions, mental health issues, you can just conveniently ignore aaall the social context, live laugh love and then things get better automatically yep, oppressors famously stop oppressing you when you show them that you're harmless and won't put up a fight anymore. Literally three out of three suicidal characters dying to redeem themselves? Not even in a tragic/cathartic way but in a bittersweet 'they finally atoned for their mistakes' way? Groundbreaking lmao. Romantic relationship between Vi and Caitlyn including no communication about their biggest fight, just conveniently skipping to sex and getting back together - would have loved that if it was framed as the unhealthy fucked up thing that it is, skipping over Vi's hurt and her background to once again become a cop, her girlfriend's direct underling at that (!) due to her not having any other support systems... But nope that was our cute lesbian romance wrapped up, a good thing all around, not concerning at all. Jayce telling Viktor that what he 'always admired about him' was his disability and his deadly disease (??? from a character who spent the whole s1 and first act of s2 desperately trying to help Viktor find a cure? sure) and that those imperfections don't need fixing, just wtf truly. Magic bullshit was also weird, some implications of 'natural magic is ok, but achieving that power through other means corrupts you into a crazy robot bitch or just wilts your trees i guess', but tbh it was written in such a weird and inconsistent way that we can skip this one... Yeah actually a lot of things were just such a mess that I feel silly pointing to specific moments or lines I didn't like, I mean duh, it barely makes sense as a story at all... I am happy we have s1 which comparatively was a masterpiece, and i also really enjoyed s2 act1, i truly believed it would lead somewhere good at the time, my mind still kind of cuts off the story at that point when i think about it, that WAS the open ending of the show to me (is it possible that there were rewrites? targeting act 2 and 3? idk, wishful thinking perhaps). Despite my extremely negative feelings about this season's conclusion i remain glad that so many people appreciate the show regardless, it is clear that there was STILL a lot of love in the process of its creation (although i'd argue that even some of the visual aspects of the show suffered in quality, once again i have to wonder about behind the scenes mood of it all) and i get very upset when i see creatives online despairing over reception of their projects even when i'm absolutely in the disgruntled crowd hahaha... ...however yeah, this wasn't great In a world that increasingly grows more and more right-wing politically... we really needed something different i think.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

#23: “The Miraculous Ladybug Movie May Give You What You Want, but My Show Gives You What You Actually Need! You Don’t Work in Television, so You Wouldn’t Understand.”

I've been running this blog for almost three years at this point, and I've seen Astruc talk trash about various things while claiming his show is better, like Winx Club, Paw Patrol, Pokemon, and Pixar as a whole. I never thought I'd see Astruc act like his show was better than a movie based on his show though.

For those who don't know (and you'd be forgiven, seeing how Astruc has barely talked about it on his Twitter), there was recently a movie that hit theaters based on Miraculous Ladybug called Ladybug & Cat Noir: The Movie. Supposedly, it's meant to be a retelling of how Marinette and Adrien met as civilians and as heroes. While I haven't seen it, it seems to be getting good reception, with some saying it's better than the show it's based on.

Of course, Astruc had something to say about this.

Okay, I sort of get what he's trying to say here. It's hard to compare the experience of watching an hour and a half long movie and a TV show with five seasons under its belt, but at the same time, the way Astruc phrased it still made it seem like he was trying to say the show was the better option because it “gives you what you need”. Nobody was expecting the Love Square to be resolved in a few episodes. Most people at least wanted more stories about the two to be told that don't involve constant padding. Astruc also acts like the Love Square is the only draw for the series instead of, oh, I don't know, the superhero action? You're really telling me they couldn't have tried focusing more on that after resolving the Love Square? I'm just saying, if The Office can continue after Jim and Pam got together, you can at least try to actually write other stories after the Love Square becomes canon.

One user in particular had some things to say in response to Astruc's claims, and you can guess how well Astruc took that.

Again, nobody is saying that working in television is all sunshine and rainbows, Astruc, but just because someone isn't familiar with dealing with network constraints and test audiences, it doesn't mean that they're unable to provide any meaningful criticism.

Also, Astruc is once again using a psychology term, in this case, the Dunning-Kruger Effect, to act like he's smarter than the critics. This man took psychology as an elective in college, didn't he?

But then again, this is coming from someone who doesn't think constructive criticism is a real thing.

Funny how he once again acts like anything that isn't positive feedback of his show is delusional, isn't it?

Eventually, this devolved into Astruc posting a little tangent about how fandoms have only gotten more toxic, which would have been a decent point... it if didn't come after all the things he said about fans not being able to criticize his show.

Again, there's nothing wrong with what he's trying to say here, but it feels less like a critique of how fans have become more toxic with the advent of the internet, and more like he's complaining about how mean people have been to him lately.

And, of course, this led to the usual fare of people calling out Astruc for his close mindedness, and Astruc once again saying how people aren't allowed to criticize his show in any way that isn't blind praise.

And here's the thing. We're still not done yet. This little tangent only warranted more comments about how Astruc handles criticism, only this time, it's also about calling out the people who think they can do a better job handling the show.

First, do you mind giving us an example of what kind of constraints you have to deal with, Astruc? We all know that TV executives suck, but I think we'd have more of a reason to understand your struggles if you actually explained some things that needed to be changed because of executive meddling.

Second, nobody wants a beach episode, Astruc, especially after that one issue of the comic you're choosing to ignore. We just want a more consistent story that doesn't rely on endlessly padding out the Love Square.

And finally, did you just say you have to be French if you want to rewrite Miraculous Ladybug? What does being French have to do with any of this? I remember seeing a little tweet a few years ago suggesting you would be a good choice to write a Superman story, but last time I checked, you aren't American.

Let's review in case you got lost. Someone tweeted that they thought the Miraculous Ladybug movie did a better job at the story it set out to tell than the Miraculous Ladybug TV show, Astruc tried to explain how his show is still good in its own way while justifying how long it's been going on for, he ranted and raved at fans for daring to criticize his team's writing before going on a tangent about how the internet has made people more hostile over the years, and when people still weren't happy with him, he claimed that you could only criticize or rewrite the show if you're an experienced French TV writer like him.

So just keep that in mind, fanfic writers. Unless you're French and have experience writing for television, you don't have a chance in hell to successfully write your own version of Miraculous Ladybug.

[bucketsofmonsters]

Where the Light Enters - Part 19

Cole/Female Inquisitor

cw: unreliable narrator, hurt/comfort, slow burn, enemies to lovers, referenced noncon, happy ending, fingering, penetrative sex, loss of virginity, masturbation

word count: 4k

ao3 link

Masterlist

Defeating high dragons did not seem to have any meaningful effect on this war at all. Cassandra and Bull insisted it was vital if what she said about the elven voices in her head was true, but she suspected by the excitement in their eyes that they’d both simply wanted to fight a dragon.

Everyone had returned home from their dragon hunting missions and no one had lost a limb so at least she could count that as a success. 

Things had calmed down, at least for them. It was the scouts who were out doing the real work now, as Sera kept loudly announcing to people. They were looking for any dragons, she supposed. Solas was convinced they were the key to winning this. He said there were legends about dragons being tied to the veil, that perhaps one had been corrupted by someone and that was what was tearing holes in the fade. 

She didn’t really know. Cassandra had already informed her she would not be going anywhere near this final battle. She had done it after Cullen had attempted to inform her of this and then had run off after getting shouted at. 

Despite it being calm, no one was settled. They could all tell the end was near and they were on edge, incredibly jumpy. She wasn’t, of course, but Cole had informed her that perhaps this was because she was always on edge. 

Cole seemed relatively relaxed as well. He wasn’t one to worry about things like his potential demise at the hands of a corrupted dragon. He kept trying to help everyone else, force them out of their perpetual stress, but was having very little luck with it. Most could not be so easily distracted from such things.

Varric, however, was more than happy to be distracted. She found them sitting off in a corner somewhere, playing a game of wicked grace. 

“I’m helping,” Cole declared to her. “Mind won’t wander but it’s restless, has to do something. Teach him how to move his hands, hold his eyes. Spirits don’t have tells, just have to not get thrown out into the cold, chased down for playing the game.”

“Oye,” she said, pointing accusationally at Varric. “You’re trying to get him to help you cheat! I’ll have you know, if anyone is exploiting him for profit, it will be me.”

“Noted,” Varric said with a chuckle, rounding up the small pile of coins in the middle of the table. “I won this round.”

Cole nodded. “The ace in his sleeve won it for him.”

“I’m telling you, kid,” Varric said, like he was teaching a life lesson and not scamming someone. “You’ve got to call people when they’re doing that. Or work against it.”

“But winning cheered you up. You’re not thinking about the dragon anymore, bent and wrong, turned against its home. Untethered.”

Varric groaned. “And you ruined it. Better luck next time, kid, I’m going to go practice my shooting. There’s always room for another if you want it,” he said, giving Britches a pointed look.

“I’m good,” she said. “Not like I’ll be shooting at anything anytime soon anyways.”

“So you’re really not going?” he said, not sounding surprised at all. More sad than anything.

“What, to see the most dangerous creature alive right now?” She scoffed. “Why would I?”

“To help.”

“No thank you,” she said, shooting him a deeply insincere grin. “I’m sure you’ll be fine on your own. And if you’re not, I’ll be glad I wasn’t there to get caught up in it.”

“Whatever you say. You two have fun.”

With that, he left the pair of them alone. 

“Any luck helping people?” she asked, hopping up to sit on the edge of the table.

“No. Varric humors me. Sometimes he humors me so much he forgets to be scared for a moment.”

“Hey, that’s something,” she said with a smile. “Who’s your next target?”

“I don’t think I want to help them," he said, fidgeting with his hands. “I think I’m tired and I miss you and they’re all so scared it makes my head hurt.”

“Take a break then,” she said, grabbing his hand as she hopped off the table. 

He seemed concerned about the whole ordeal but let her lead him along, tugging him back to their room in the attic of the tavern. 

She tugged him down onto the mattress before he had time to worry. He fell on top of her, almost knocking the air out of her, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind. 

She pushed him up off of her, partially so she could breathe again and partially so she could look at him. 

When faced with his disheveled hair and a flushed face revealed from under a tipped off hat, she almost instantly drew him back in for a kiss, rolling her hips up into his. 

She pulled back, pressing her hands into his shoulders to keep him from following her and kissing her once more and blurted out, “Do you want to have sex?”

His eyes darted down to her lips and then back up to her eyes. “We’ve had sex.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not like that, real sex.” She grinded her hips up into his as if in demonstration. 

His eyes widened, excitement filling his face. “Really?”

He waited, clearly demanding an actual repose from her. When she nodded, he dove back into a kiss, hand snaking down into her pants, pushing one gently inside her and crooking it up. 

A soft moan was pulled from her and alongside it, she asked, “What are you doing?” as she pulled away from his kiss with a laugh. 

“Prepping you,” he said, his fingers crooking up in practiced motions. “That’s what you’re supposed to do. It’s what everyone else does.”

“I appreciate the enthusiasm but I promise I can take you”

He frowned, a little wrinkle forming between his brows. “I want to.”

She sighed a long-suffering sigh, hiding a smile. “If you insist.”

He moved, carefully and slowly, maybe too slowly. She could feel herself start to become impatient but shoved the feeling down. It was clearly important to Cole and she could allow it. 

And people were so rarely this gentle with her. When they were it was always done with an air of condescension, like she was some fragile thing that couldn’t take it. 

That wasn’t how it was now. There was no condescension in Cole's actions. They were simply laced with an excess of care. Everything he did was. 

He slipped a second finger in, steady and sure. Her body welcomed it, more than prepared. 

He scissored her open, carefully watching her face for any sign of discomfort now that he couldn’t read it out of her mind. She was pliant and soft underneath him, trying to quell any impatient squirming and allow him this. 

She decided she could allow the bit of impatience that was unbuttoning his pants and shoving his underwear down to release his dick. He barely seemed to notice, absolutely focused on what he was doing, brow furrowed with his lower lip trapped between his teeth. 

She gave his cock a steady stroke and he glared down at her. “You’re rushing,” he said with a huff. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, batting her eyes innocently up at him. 

He gave into her a little, removing his fingers and shifting down so his length ran through her folds, gasping as he did. 

“You’re so wet,” he said, voice verging on delight.

“A brilliant deduction.”

He didn’t even bother looking annoyed, barely tamping down his grin enough to kiss her, deep and messy. It was frankly a bad kiss, too much too quickly, the desperation in it leaving it frantic and sloppy. She loved every second of it.  

The head of his cock teased her entrance, not intentionally but simply sliding along her as he moved, thrusting beside her.

She stamped down her dignity and gave him a quiet, “Please.”

His eyes lit up at the word and he shifted, ever so slightly, to position himself above her with intention. 

He stared down at her face, searching for something in it.

“Are you sure?” he asked, the air from his words tickling her face. 

She nodded, arms lifting to wrap around him, urging him closer. 

He pushed just the tip of his cock inside of her before freezing.

“You can move more than that, I promise,” she goaded him, trying to roll her hips to meet his.

He reached down and pinned her to the mattress, keeping her from moving as he shook his head. “If I do, I'm going to come.”

She laughed, the sound echoing through the room without a hint of malice to be found within it. “You’re so sweet.”

He nodded, distracted as he focused on keeping himself together. 

Eventually, he seemed to decide he was composed enough to move, pushing inside her steadily. He paused once more when he was hilted inside her, a loud moan escaping him. 

She giggled, shifting underneath him and earning another moan from his mouth. “One of these days you’ll learn to be quiet.”

He shook his head. “I feel good, why would I lock it inside?”

She smiled. It was a sweet idea, a declaration of happiness and pleasure, to him untainted by anything. 

She supposed it was alright. She didn’t mind the idea of everyone hearing him anyway. 

Finally he began to move, slowly and carefully, and she suspected it was as much for his sake as hers. Every movement was punctuated by a loud cry, his hands reaching down to grab the sheets below them. 

His thrusts sped up, movements stuttering and quick, inexperienced in the motions, lost in his pleasure. 

Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair, pulling his face down for messy kisses between gasps and moans.  

And then a knot began to tangle up inside of her, unbidden and unwelcome, pulling soft emotions taught. 

“We should stop,” she said, and he stilled instantly, pulling out of her and moving to the other end of the mattress. 

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“You can keep going by yourself,” she said cautiously. “I just think I don’t want your cum on me.”

He nodded, a wide smile plastering itself across his face. “I’m very proud of you.”

“Alright,” she said with a laugh. “Save it for when you’re done jerking off, alright?

He was still beaming at her when he moved to take himself in hand and she had to fight to keep another laugh from bubbling out of her. 

He came quickly, as he always did, staring at her longingly the whole time. 

“You’re such an idiot,” she said with a laugh, moving to kiss him as he whimpered and moaned through an orgasm, staring at her with nothing but adoration.

He looked up at her, breathless, as she pressed kisses into his face. “I love you so much,” she whispered to him between kisses, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Do you know that?”

“I do. It’s one of the only things I can read from you anymore. Sometimes, barely, fleetingly”

She smiled at the thought. “What, it’s that strong?”

He nodded, leaning into each kiss as it was laid on his skin. 

They fell asleep before long. Cole seemed like he really needed the rest and she was never one to pass up a nap. 

When she woke up, Cole was gone and there was some kind of scuffle going on downstairs. She quickly dressed and rushed down to see patrons of the tavern trying to shoo Cole outside as he held up what was a frankly massive cat by the scruff of its neck. It was covered in brown and gray stripes that only stopped for its white underbelly. 

“Look what I found,” Cole said, holding the cat aloft slightly away from him. 

Under normal circumstances, she could probably be convinced to let him keep the creature. However, given his big tomcat cheeks that indicated he was probably feral and the hissing and attempted mauling that indicated he was definitely feral, it seemed an ill advised venture. “Cole,” she said, tone deeply exasperated. “Please put the cat down before it tears you to shreds.”

“It doesn’t have a name,” he said, functionally ignoring her. “Would it be rude to give it one?”

“He doesn’t need a name in the wild, where you are going to return him to,” she said, with an amount of patience she didn’t even know she was capable of mustering. 

“Its name is Clover,” he announced, seeming proud of himself.

“Did he tell you that?” she asked.

“No, I decided.”

“Great, fascinating stuff. Would Clover like to stop clawing at you?”

“It would. It just doesn't know if it is safe. I will show it that it is.”

“You know this is a bad idea, right?” she demanded of him.

“I know you think that,” he said, his voice petulant. 

She rolled her eyes. “Back in my head again?”

“No. I can just tell.”

“Groundbreaking stuff. Alright, have fun with your new cat. Keep it away from me and probably keep it away from the tavern.”

She didn’t even notice Solas in the corner until he cleared his throat. “Yes,” he added, staring at the cat. “You should probably find some place less crowded to keep it.”

Cole nodded and made his way out the door, feral cat in tow, just leaving her and Solas. 

Her instincts told her to just leave, to run up the stairs so she wouldn’t have to talk to him. But she could feel goosebumps rise on her neck and knew he was staring at her.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked, turning to him. “I didn’t take you for a big drinker.”

“I’m not,” he said. “I was waiting for you. We need to talk.”

“Can we do it later?” she asked, already regretting not brushing him off and running back up the stairs. 

“No, it is quite urgent.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, backing out the tavern door as they spoke, Solas following behind her. The voices in her head were raising, echoing, shouting warnings at her that she could not hear, making it hard to focus on anything. She stumbled as she walked backwards, everything getting so overwhelming. 

And then everything around her faded away, an impenetrable blackness coming up around her. 

The only reason she knew she hadn’t gone blind was that Solas was standing in the void with her, looking just as disoriented as she felt, though she imagined there were probably fewer voices screaming in his head. 

And then there was an old woman in front of them, with hair done up like horns and the look of a mage about her. 

She was frozen in place, unable to move her arms, though Solas seemed to have no issue moving and shifted away from her easily.  

The woman chuckled as Britches struggled against invisible bindings and then, with a flick of the woman’s wrist, she could move again.

“What was that?” Britches demanded, 

“Just a bit of control over you. The pool must have a price, mustn’t it?”

She wanted to insist that surely the screaming voices were enough of a deterrent for most but she figured it was unwise to anger the woman who could seemingly control her without even extending any major effort. “What do you want from me?” she asked instead, trying not to sound too confrontational. 

“I’ve come to help, since you can’t seem to parse the voices on your own. I didn’t mean to grab him,” she said, gesturing at Solas. “But he seems to have tagged along so I suppose he can stay. Odd, he always seems to be in the right place at the right time, doesn’t he?” Her voice had a knowing lilt to it that she could not parse. “What the voices you took on and can’t understand are trying to say is that there is not just a dragon to be defeated, but a price to be paid. You must be given for the Inquisition to survive.”

“Given?” she asked, reeling back, having a bad feeling she knew exactly what this prophecy wanted to take. 

“That’s what you need to know, you can figure the rest out, I’m sure. Especially with such a capable mage at your side.” She shot Solas a look that meant something, something Solas understood. What it meant, she had no idea. She was too busy being filled with panic. 

With that, the world faded back in and the voices quieted to their typical wave of chaos. 

Solas grabbed her and pulled her to the side, speaking in hushed tones. “She’s right, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. The dragon can be stopped but I was looking through the fade and the two of you are tethered. It can only be killed in conjunction with the anchor in your hand. Without that, the dragon is unkillable. While one remains so must the other.”

“Right,” she said, already trying to find an out from this conversation. “I’ll think about that.”

“You should,” he insisted, “a lot of people’s lives are riding on this.”

“Whatever,” she hissed, storming off to go find Cole. 

The thought kept swirling through her head, that Cole was going to fight that dragon the second they found it. She knew her telling him it was unkillable wouldn’t do anything. He wouldn’t run, it didn’t matter what she said. He would try because that’s who he was. 

So it was her or him, at the end of the day. Well, her or thousands upon thousands of people, but that didn’t really matter to her. She’d let them die in a heartbeat, wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. She found it impossibly and frustratingly difficult to say the same when she imagined Cole there, killed by something she could have prevented. 

But she couldn’t die, couldn’t give up now, not after everything she’d done. It wasn’t an option. 

And yet she found herself turning around to go talk to Solas again. 

When she found Cole, she knew he could tell that she was exhausted and panicked. Whether or not he could see into her head anymore, that much was abundantly clear. She was tense, jaw clenched and breaths coming too slowly, clearly intentionally slowed for others benefit. 

And, more than that, he took one look at her and knew if he tried to speak to her about it, she would freak out, spiral and push him away, so instead he just looked her up and down and said, “I lost the cat.”

That much was evident from the long scratch up his face alongside his empty arms. 

“Looks like it,” she responded, giving him a halfhearted smile. 

Before they got a chance to talk any longer, shouts started to rise and she saw that Sera’s scout had returned. 

Even from a distance she looked solemn. Sera practically tackled her to the ground when she got back, having clearly been worried about her, though she’d never admit it. 

“I found it,” she said to the crowd that was slowly gathering, sensing that she had important news. “It’s a few days' ride away.”

Everything got incredibly frantic after that. People were bustling around, grabbing every weapon they could find, stocking resources. This was going to be it, they all whispered. Take everything, after this it will be done, one way or another. 

She barely helped. She felt queasy as she watched them. 

People kept offering her things to do. Blackwall came up to her and asked if she could help lead the horses to their wagons, Varric asking if she could help carry supplies. Even Vivienne seemed to have something for her, asking if she wanted to abscond for a few moments and drink some wine together. That was the only offer she almost took them up on. But she had to be sober, it didn’t seem right not to be, not now. 

The offers never really seemed to end. It seemed to be out of some need to see her involved, to make it look like she was helping. She truly did not understand it. 

Josephine came to her with an authoritative air about her, seemingly actually needing real aid with something, and Britches looked up, nonplussed. “Yes?”

“We are doing one last plea to nobles with resources near the fight. I believe you are in good standing with some of them, your presence could be of great help.”

She scrunched up her nose and shook her head. “I think I’m good here, thank you.”

“I assure you it will not be dangerous,” Josephine said, seeming confused by her refusal. “We just need to do our best to support them from the sidelines. A well supported army is a successful army.”

“I know. I’d rather not though.”

Britches got up and wandered off without waiting for a response, where to she wasn’t sure. She was getting antsy but she focused everything she had into staying put. 

Less people came up to ask for help after that. It wasn’t even that they knew she’d refuse. Public opinion was simply starting to turn. She wasn’t the poor defenseless girl anymore, she was someone refusing to help. They’d invested time and care into her and what had she done other than abandon them at every opportunity. 

They were right, of course. There was no other reaction she could have expected from them. It needed to happen, she needed to be exactly as terrible as she always was, needed to turn them all down without recompense.

There were a few stragglers, ones who still had some modicum of belief in her or a hope that couldn’t be snuffed out so quickly. She wasn’t sure which and she didn’t much care. 

Is 

“If you want to come,” Cullen said, offering her an olive branch, “you could go and stay back. I’ve heard you do that in the field, it wouldn't be any different than that. Just so we don’t have to leave you here and you don’t have to just sit around and worry.”

She shook her head resolutely. “I’m just fine here. And don’t get too concerned, I promise I won’t waste away worrying. In fact, I’ll try not to worry at all.”

Cassandra scoffed. “Can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

And then they began to head out. 

She watched them all pass her by, seemingly having successfully worked to piss off every single person there. Cullen was fuming at the head of the army, refusing to give her so much as a look. Blackwall and Sera gossipped about her as she walked by, with little regard for her presence. Bull shot her an incredulous look and she couldn’t help but try to figure out what he was wondering. Maybe what he’d ever seen in her, maybe how someone so vile had tricked him so effectively, maybe something entirely different. It was a mystery to her, probably would always be. She caught a few more nasty looks aimed at her as they left, some from people she didn’t even know.

Vivienne was the only one who didn’t seem angry, giving her a regal nod as she passed. She’d always respected the way Britches played the game, was one of the few who recognized it was a game at all. 

Cole sat by her side the whole time, reluctant to leave. She wanted to grab his hand and beg him to stay but she knew she couldn’t. He was too selfless to ever consider it, and besides, she needed them gone. 

Cole leaned over and whispered, “They’ll miss you. Right now they can see themselves, drowning, devoured, dying. It’s hard to see anything else. And you just sit, safe, secure. Alone.”

She just nodded. She knew that, knew it incredibly well. She’d been them many times and could not fault them for it. No one hated the safe more than frightened people did. 

She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever actually felt safe before. 

Varric did come to see her as the last of the troops filed out, sidling up beside her. “They don’t mean it,” he said, giving her a pat on the back. “They’re just worried. People get mean when they’re worried. You’ll patch it right up when we get back.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me, they can think what they want.”

He gave her a knowing look but didn’t fight her on the matter. “Whatever you say, kid. See you on the other side.”

Cole stood up, running out of time to stall through. He turned and stared at her, like he was trying to figure something out.

“You’ll be fine,” she said, focused on keeping her voice level. “You always are.”

He nodded. “And then it will be fixed. And we can be us.”

“Yeah, it will be. Now go,” she said, shooing him off. “Go help people, don’t let me stop you.”

He stumbled off, turning to look back at her over and over again until he’d passed the gates and left her sight completely. She imagined even past the walls, he kept looking back, until Skyhold was far in the distance. 

She watched to chase him, to give him the biggest kiss she's ever given him, but that would give her away, would show what the voices roaring her her head so conveniently hid from him. 

So she didn't do what she wanted, didn't take one last look at any of their faces, let them believe what they wanted. She just let them leave.

The second the last troop had left Skyhold, she was off, racing to the garden where Solas had returned to, sneaking out of their ranks. 

He looked over at her as he arranged the ritual circle on the ground. “I was worried you might not come.”

She shrugged. “Thought about it. Are you sure we need to do this? There’s no way they could win on their own?”

He shook his head. “It has to be the mark, it can’t be done without it.”

“And there’s no chance I survive this?”

He looked almost exasperated, which seemed a bit unfair considering the circumstances. “I told you before, I haven’t exactly done this previously so it’s impossible to know for sure. It certainly seems unlikely. The spell will rip you apart. I think it would take a stronger person than you to survive this.”

“Whatever,” she said, staring down at the mark on her palm. “Couldn’t we cut my hand off or something? Does it need to be attached to me?”

“I meant it when I said I considered every option. I would not be doing it this way if I thought there was something else to be done,” he said, voice softening slightly. “Despite our differences, I do not want you dead.”

It meant more to her than it should have. She was probably just overemotional. 

“You aren't who you say you are,” she leveled at him as she forced the emotions down. There was no reason to keep leverage anymore, she could say whatever she wanted to him. 

“I am not.” At least now, at the end, he graced her with the truth.

“I know you don't like me and I know you don’t think I was good for him," she said, fighting back a sob. She managed it. She'd gotten very good at not crying. “But please tell Cole I love him.”

Solas nodded. “Of course”

And with her last breath, she laughed.

[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

Chapter snippet

((they're sitting down at the edge of the forest near Banquo))

“Are the towers always lit like that?” asked the star’s voice as she heard him move. 

“Only when storms are approaching,” she replied, somewhat surprised to see them all burning so brightly together tonight but as she said, it was to be expected given the possible storm that loomed on the horizon. 

“Hmm,” the star hummed thoughtfully as she heard the breaking of branches. “It’s almost like they’re arranged in a pattern of some sort,” the star spoke as he thoughtfully glanced at the flickering towers.

“They probably are,” Asha sighed. “Seeing as how Lord Vitrius was around when he and the astronomers named the place, I wouldn’t be too surprised if someone like him with a cartographic background had a hand in designing certain landmarks like this….”

“You know about Tau Vitreus?”

“A little bit,” she confessed. “Yesterday the prince had given me his manuscripts that he’d obtained while in exile. He thought there was something more to them than what met the eye, given how hard Vitrius had tried to destroy them before he died. I did some digging about him in the library and ended up stumbling across his journal….I couldn’t find much on the manuscripts, but I know that he was my father’s master, and he wanted him to find something before he suspiciously departed Rosas.”

“And have you found it?”

“Found what?”

“The thing that the prince wanted you to decipher?”

“Ha! How could I when he doesn’t even trust me enough to fully transparent with me? He must’ve been insanely desperate to have gotten me involved in the first place given how he couldn’t even be bothered to bring me back any sort of gift! And I mean, I know it sounds insanely entitled given the circumstances and what he went through, but I can’t help but feel as if the prince himself never really placed any true meaningful value or thought into our friendship… come to think of it, maybe none of them ever did…”

“Even Dahlia?”

“Yes? No? “Uh, I don’t know!” ” she scowled as she drew her knees to her chest.

She’d let the conversation lapse into silence as her eyes had remained solely focused on the distant lights of Banquo. The city looked lively tonight, probably with last-minute preparations for the fair tomorrow she thought.

A distraction had been what the star had called this nightly venture. But the cool night breeze had done nothing to soothe her aching mind as she’d constantly tended to the stray tears that escaped her every so often. 

“Asha?” Came Cepheus’s voice. “Are you feeling better?”

Yes, she could already feel the words forming on the tip of her tongue as they’d done so many times in the past. I’m fine. Everything is fine. Everything was always fine, wasn’t it?

So why couldn’t she put herself back together? 

Even in the worst of times, she’d always been able to pick herself up and put the pieces of her heart back together. Maybe her fixed heart had never quite perfectly resembled what it had been before, but at least it had looked similar to a heart, or what she’d thought had been acceptable enough to pass for one even with all its cracks and fractures.

But this time, she wasn’t quite sure what it would look like if she’d ever been able to put it back together…nor was she certain that it would ever be good enough….

Nothing was ever good enough…

 Not her, and not her heart….

“I…I’m sorry, she sobbed and feebly wiped her tears. “I know you’re trying to help me, and I really appreciate it, I just….I don’t think I’ll ever feel better…I don’t know how,” she confessed, staring at her lap as the tears began to blur her vision. “I don’t know anything…not about my family, my home, and or even myself…”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

She shook her head, unable to give voice to the strange yet selfish desire that had begun to eat away at her. She didn’t know why she would feel that way over a boy, a being she’d only known for a few days… but she had a sinking suspicion that it had been because of the way things had been going.

In the past few days, Her life had undeniably fallen apart and with every crack and rupture that had appeared, she’d only had one person or place to turn to.

She shook, trying to ignore how cold the passing breeze felt as she tightly tugged at her tear-stained skirts.

She wasn’t sure how long they’d sat there in silence before he’d suddenly stood up. She’d nearly been about to ask him what was wrong when he quickly unfastened his cape. Promptly removing it from his shoulders before gently placing it on hers.

The warmth immediately enveloped her as she watched the star re-took his seat next to her.

Had he just? No, he couldn’t have-?! She thought, staring at the beautiful glowing cape that now adorned her shoulders as the star laughed. 

Had he really just given his cape to her so nonchalantly?! She could scarcely believe it as she took in the sight and feel of the cape, taking note of the cape’s smaller details of constellations and clouds that she’d failed to notice before. 

Calling the cape beautiful was an understatement, she thought, feeling somewhat grateful for the protection it had now put between her and the wind. 

She knew she should’ve said thank you, or at least something to the star who sat beside her, more focused on Banquo than anything else, but as her heart began to race she had no choice but to sink within the cape’s warmth, muttering a garbled thank you that not even the star would be able to understand.

She wasn’t sure how long they’d sat there in silence before he’d spoken again, this time to ask, 

“Asha…Have you ever been to any other countries?”

“No…It’s too expensive…” she confessed, trying to ignore the pang of jealousy she felt as she remembered how frequently the royals and nobles used to travel. “But I’ve always dreamed of going to Corona. For a time I even thought about becoming a diplomat just so I could have an excuse to get a change in scenery…”

“So why didn’t you?”

“I wanted to focus on my father’s work instead…” she confessed, as she stared at the cape’s edges. “it made me feel as if I’d gotten to see a side of him I would have seen if he’d never passed…or what he would’ve wanted me to do if he’d survived…I just can’t believe he wouldn’t have wanted me to be a part of it…I thought if there was anyone who’d always believe in me then it would’ve been him…but now…I’m not even sure anymore.”

“I can’t speak for your father, but maybe his request had come from a place of concern rather than disappointment. Remember he was as much of your father as he was an astronomer, and with the order probably well gone by the point you’d enter into his life, you’d probably taken top priority to him at that point. So thinking of it from a parent's point of view, why would he want you to live The life of an astronomer, one that has never been particularly easy nor 100% safe, even at the height of their power? If something had caused the order to collapse surely he wouldn’t have wanted you to be caught up in it as well…”

“I guess…that does make sense…but what exactly am I supposed to do without his legacy? Everything I’ve endured and put up with was because I always told myself that it was for a greater purpose, that I had a greater purpose! It’s the only reason why I was able to get an apprenticeship in the first place or even get the manuscripts to learn about Tau Vitrius from the prince! It was all because people thought I was destined to follow in my father’s footsteps, and I was fine with that! I could live with that! But now I see that in this world with people like the king and beings like you I have….nothing…for no one…”

“I wouldn’t say that-,”

“Why not?” 

“Well, it’s not like you’ve depleted all your options. You’ve been stuck in the same role for five years…“You know your life is too short to not be expanding your horizons, Asha.”

“Is it?” she asked as she began to pace. “What point is there in moving elsewhere? People from all over love and admire the king and his powers. Once they figure out I’m his useless former apprentice I doubt they’d even bother entertaining an introduction. There’s just no place in this world for me or my inventions.”

“Then why not look elsewhere?”

“Elsewhere?” she stared at him in disbelief. “Cepheus where exactly can I look? The royal family has been all over the world whether it be for creational or job-related affairs, and every time they return they tell me just how much the world appreciates their powers and whatnot. How exactly am I going to compete against that?”

“Maybe you don’t have to compete…Have you ever thought about going to outer space?”

“Outer Space?” she frowned, risking a glance at the star. “Cepheus that’s not possible-,” Her voice trailed off at the teasing expression on her face before she promptly shook her head.

“Fine. Cepheus that’s not practical.”

“Why not?” he frowned. “We’ve taken astronomers up to space before and things were perfectly fine.”

“Astronomers?” she scowled. “I’m sorry you mean the same group of people that my own father didn’t want me to have anything to do with in regarding his past with your kind for best case scenario my safety and worst case, because of my incompetence?”

“Well yeah, but your mother said that he never had an issue with you studying the art of astronomy-,”

“Yes but not the part that actually important part that involved your world remember?”

Cepheus leaned back, his eyes nearly lost in thought as if he’d been contemplating something before he shook his head. “I thought you wanted to help me restore the order? Didn’t you want to be a part of it?”

She had. God knows that for some insane reason, a small part of her had wanted to. But could she take that chance given what she knew now? Knowing that she wasn’t supposed to be a part of his world? “I told you I was a selfish person Cepheus.”

[bonefall]

ITS SNAKE O' CLOCK!!! yay yippee wahoo! have you decided what you're doing with him or are you just thinking abt him :O?

Rotating him in my mind for my own sanity because I got to the part in Path of Stars where they've just. Completely retconned everything about him for the sake of forcefully making everyone of value forgive Clear Sky. The only person who stays mad at Clear Sky forever actually just liked One Eye better

Even though we saw him, on screen, looking at the camera and being like, "I Do Not Like Clear Sky Because His Bad Judgement Caused Us To Be Permanently Branded By A Tyrant Like We Were A Herd Of Texas Steers."

They did him SO dirty, man!! SO SO dirty!!!!!

On that note though, I HAVE decided on a few things!

So, on the note of defectors, Snake is going to be one of the very last ones. While I absolutely adore him, I think it's very important and meaningful that he is one of his most loyal cats.

Snake is a Mountain cat, and it's looking like he is going to be part of the Claw Family.

The Claw Family consists of Fox Claw and Petal Claw to begin with. I have an inkling of an idea that Petal Claw actually leaves while pregnant-- possibly escaping someone unsavory back at home.

I feel like she doesn't really enjoy romance. She's ambitious and ferocious, and whoever her lover was, was quite controlling.

Unfortunately it's a big reason why she's so committed to Clear Sky. She has that sort of unaddressed mindset that abuse often leaves you with.

"No, I know what an awful person is because of what I went through, and I'm telling you, Clear Sky is not that. YOU'Re actually the problem."

And, in turn, Clear Sky rewards her a lot. She is one of his favorite cats, she gets a TON of benefits for her loyalty. Tyrannical, terrible two of them.

Besties (threat)

Snake Claw and Red Claw would have been the first births in the forest, but Bright Storm gave birth early because of the stress and thus Thunder Storm came first.

So Snake and Red were brought up by Petal Claw and Fox Claw, in early Sky's Clan.

Fox and Petal were ADAMANTLY loyal to Clear Sky. They remained behind in the Shadow/Sky split, hissing and spitting at those who chose to follow Tall Shadow.

I feel like Fox was actually their primary parent. They call him Uncle, but he acted a lot more like a dad. It gave Petal more time to go do bad bitch things.

When Clear Sky murders Misty, much much later, Petal is given the kittens as a reward for her loyalty. Having more kits is a point of status, and she's very happy to accept the reward.

So, the Claw family becomes "huge" in a short period of time on this evil action. Petal Claw, Fox Claw, Snake Claw, Red Claw, Alder Claw, Birch Claw.

For Snake, he's raised accepting all this as good and normal. At some point, Fox Claw is killed in some kind of frighteningly violent, unnecessary, bloodthirsty skirmish that Clear Sky aggrieves, and Snake Claw doubles down right along with Petal.

He also does a lot of the WORST things on behalf of Clear Sky. He IS going to have a body count-- though he will no longer be killing BB!Frost (now Sunlit Frost), he does bite him on the good paw during The First Battle.

This bite goes septic, after Sunlit REFUSES to sit out gravedigging, helping to bury his friends and family with an open wound. He already has nerve damage in the other arm from his severe burn.

This choice, because he wouldn't take a break when he was told to, ends up MASSIVELY disabling him. Once a master builder and inventor, he loses his dominant paw and has chronic pain in the other one. He can't build anymore after this.

After Snake Claw defects, I actually really want them to struggle with this. Snake doesn't feel like it's fair to blame him for what Sunlit did to himself, but he's also NEW to Thunder's Clan later, and there's not a lot of people on his side.

And Sunlit is a person who holds grudges... but it's also true that it's kinda not fair, since Snake Claw is trying to apologize for it.

Somehow it's unsatisfying and frustrating, knowing that Snake Claw is only apologizing because everyone wants him to. But how can you expect him to be sincere about something the BOTH of you feel is not entirely his fault?

It's like Sunlit wanted to have him to blame, but that's hard when he's not Clear Sky's Minion anymore.

In the past, I'd gone back and forth on if Red Claw or Snake Claw defected, and now I'm realizing.... por que no los dos? Por que no los TRES?

Since I've committed to adding a third group and expanding on the Forest cats, this is going to mean that Snake's younger "adopted" siblings NEED to have full arcs with this.

While one of them will remain with Clear Sky, becoming a cultural "justification" for the practice of Kitten Stealing, which will plague Clan culture for generations, I think something is fascinating in the idea that they're the ONLY Claw to remain with SkyClan.

Petal Claw and Fox Claw die in battle, "honored" for their sacrifice.

Red Claw defects for ThunderClan first, after falling for the charms of Acorn Swoop

Alder Claw likely follows later... reconnecting with Misty's mate, Milkweed, who has been fighting for MOONS for this very moment

And, lastly, Snake will follow.

(It is also bitterly funny to me that it means Milkweed loses Misty, but then ends up gaining all of Petal's biokids. Never speak to me or my daughter or my son or my son or my daughter or my daughter or my daughter-in-law ever again)

Because Snake Claw will be the very last of the Claw family to defect, I'm thinking it's after the end of BB!DOTC, and over in Thunderstar's Justice.

KEEP the fact that Snake Claw leaves because of Skystar bringing One Eye into the Clan. Even keep the fact that most of SkyClan is loyal to their tyrant-- Snake Claw has woken up to the truth, and realizes he has family elsewhere who loves and misses him.

Well.... hopefully they still do. After everything.

Snake Claw should have a ton of fights with Red Claw and Alder Claw, I think, before the First Battle. Have them all be covered in scars

Because the whole family defects, it's easy for it to become a sensational story about Nepotism/Scabforming. Other Clans probably don't hold Snake, Red, and Alder in high esteem in their myths-- but until Darkstar's Commandment which bans Kitten Stealing, Birch Claw was easily the most venerated.

Aaaand that's it so far! I know for a fact now that Snake Claw is going to be a member of the Claw family, and that he is going to be a MAJOR antagonist through BB!DOTC. In Thunderstar's Justice, he's going to join his living family after finally being able to realize that Skystar is not worth following.

I want to keep that he is a villain for most of the story, because that's what I like best about the way he turns on Clear Sky from canon. He was everything Skystar ever wanted, he did every awful command, the blood is already dried under his claws forever and he was rewarded only with a permanent scarring.

Then, told it's "MY way or the HIGH way," he chooses the high way.

[blank-slate-jay]

Shared Warmth

Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Summary: Joel brings reader to an abandon home, that he wants to call home for the two of you. Something erotic in Joel ensues seeing you in just your underwear.

Tags: Smut (18+), Anal, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Pet Names, Dom!Joel, Fluff, Established Relationship, no use of (y/n)

A/N: Longest fic I've ever written so far. I don't know how I managed to conjure this! Could've split this into two parts, but decided this is better as one post to make this more cohesive. Enjoy!

AO3! | Reposts are much appreciated!

——————————————————

"You'll see," is what you had received.

A response with very little context, a saying with many different meanings.

You didn't know what to make of this, sitting behind him on the horse with your arms around his waist, you genuinely felt left in the dark. It was very much like Joel to leave you questioning the tones under his voice. Most of the time it was just Joel being Joel, being the closed off man that he was. But the man was in a very good mood, deliberately mocking your naivety with a chuckle.

You sighed, "where are you taking me", saying it more toward yourself than to Joel. Being nearly a day away from Jackson, the question was a reasonable one. After all, what purpose was there to go beyond Jackson for? A gated community was a blessing in times like these, and yet strangely for you, something felt off. Living there has made you feel out of place, made your relationship with Ellie and Joel seemly less meaningful. Perhaps being in a safe haven, with so many people, wasn't truly what you sought.

Bizarre for sure that if you say it out loud, you knew people would call you crazy. You yourself felt you might’ve lost your mind. However, you can’t deny your feelings. Those days, weeks, and months traveling with Joel and Ellie across the country - those were some of the best times you've had even with the looming danger around every corner.

Regardless of what was going through your head, you weren't complaining, being back out into the world. The orange glow of the sun only served to emphasize this notion, piercing through the branches just above your head. It created this relaxing setting, one you can bask in for an unhealthy amount of hours.

"Do you have an idea of where we might be goin'," Joel asked.

Cruel. Just damn cruel, asking you a question you knew he'd leave open ended. Still, you played along.

"I’m assuming it’s pretty big,” after relaying that the man hums finally providing you with a clue, even if its unspecified. “…and that you aren’t playing some trick on me. So, a mall?”

“Try again.”

“A museum?”

“Nope…”

You let out a frustrated grunt, wishing the ladder were true. “Lake?”

Joel took longer to respond, “Mmm,” the man thought about it. “Not quite, it’s close by, but not important.”

You scoffed, placing your head on his shoulder, unsure of what he has disclosed so far is true or not, "Should I already know what it is?" Maybe that'll give you the upper hand.

"I doubt you'd guess this," Joel responses.

"So I'm guessing that a no then?"

The older man nods, turning his head to you before replying with a, 'Yeah'. There was no use in trying by that point. The constant persistence wasn't doing you both any favors. Joel probably had a reason to keep it secretive, so why spoil it? Knowing ahead would've made the trip less intriguing, if not boring. And on the bright side, what'll come will actually be a surprise.

Rather than playing into Joel's trickery you let it go, lifting your head back up, "Alright you won, I forfeit."

"Finally givin' up."

You reply, “I think I have too. I’ve ran out of ideas,” you lied just exhausted by the mind tricks, “Unless you want me to keep going?”

Joel partly wanted you to continue, to get back at you for all the times you fucked with him. He was starting to understand the fun in it now and why you did it to him. He settled for one more jab at you, “Will you get it a right this time?”

"Shut it" you giggle, bumping the man's thighs with your legs. Your comment did do the trick, as Joel fell silent after your remark. You could tell the man was smiling though; his rising cheek gave it away. Some of you was certainly rubbing off onto him, to know the man was now more comfortable with you was flattering.

Joel then reaches down for your leg, placing his hand right over your kneecap, caressing it like it was precious. “Don’t worry now, sugar. We’ll be there shortly.”

His considerate touch, that softness in his voice. Those two components together were enough to send a warm feeling throughout your body. How easy Joel could just captivate you by his touch alone, you guessed that was just how love worked.

You nodded your head as if he could see you, humming to acknowledge his words. Again you laid your head against him, face now between the back of his bare neck and the collar of his blue shirt. Closing your eyes, you let yourself listen to the sounds of nature around you to pass the time.

---

Sometime later, you found yourself opening your eyes to the sound of Joel's voice. Your vision, well adjusted to the growing darkness of dusk, focused on the dirt path some feet away.

"We're here," Joel says, spiking your interest enough to get your full attention. You lean back from the man's frame, hands rubbing the bags under your eyes.

Taking a look at the dirt path, you gaze in both direction. One leading deeper into the forest and the other extended out into a clearing. You confusingly study the area, unable to spot anything of interest. No water, no structure, not even a tree with any unique properties. You couldn't help feeling a bit bewildered, some of that feeling escaping through your lips with a quick 'Umm'. Stealing a glance at Joel's side profile, you tried reading what little you could see of his face.

He nods, "Good. You're awake. It's just this way," he explains, spurring the horse to get them moving in the direction of the dirt path.

Huffing in relief you spoke, "Phew, not gonna lie you almost got me there," thinking Joel might've been toying with you still. He turns his head to you, claiming that he wasn't going to bring you out there for nothing. If the man had told you that some time ago, you would have a hard time believing him.

Trotting forward, the horse comes into close proximity of the tree lines. Just on the other side you could barely see something faint between the leaves; a building of sorts. By what you could see the distance made it difficult to tell with the addition of nature covering your view. The universe really made things difficult for you. For what what it was worth, you were sure Joel didn't want you to see it until you stepped out into the open field. Still, the suspense was killing you.

This wasn't going to last any longer as Joel turns the horse right into the clearing. The tree's now finally out of view, you were hit with the red beam from the sun, blinded by your curiosity and in exchange being blinded by the sun in return.

You squint some, grunting as your gaze trailed around the perimeter. There was lots of tall grass, a noticeable transition compared to the on's just behind them. It stretched far beyond what your eyes could already see. Of course your mind was then caught up by the building some distance away.

There was a house. Someone's house. A house, that looked to be in good conditions. Surprisingly the lone tree just beside it has yet to infect the home with any vines. It made you believe that someone had to have lived here not too long ago. That person was one lucky bastard to have that home to themselves, you thought, imagining how nice the interior had looked.

"Ain't that something", Joel spoke, pretending as if it was his first time being there.

You comment, "Looks lively." A good point compared to everything the two of you had seen on the way there.

But Joel corrected you, "It's empty actually, has been for awhile". You let out a quick 'Huh', taking in his words, further scanning the house. The sidings are a tinted white, slightly scrapped on some parts of the wall. The dark colored roof, contrasting with the siding, made the home brighter than it already seemed. The house stood tall, two stories at most based off the windows, with the first floor being linked with the porch.

It was both funny and disheartening how attached you felt to this home already compared to the one you, Joel, and Ellie shared in Jackson. You kill to live in a home like this, not that you hated your existing home, just this one felt...right to you. Exterior alone, it reminded you of your old house pre-outbreak.

"Can we go in," you asked. A silly question, like you needed Joel's permission to enter the desolate property.

Joel responded sarcastically, dragging out the phrase "Nooo", with his gruffy voice. You knew he was only kidding and was now becoming intrigued by what was inside. Even so, the invasive feeling creeping up your stomach didn't go away yet. You looked around, taking in a full scope of the area. You trusted Joel of course, something that had improved since you first met. But your vigilant, alert mind hadn't shifted in the slightest; only improved thanks to being with Joel.

You turn your head around, looking behind you and at the edges of the tree lines to ensure that no one was following or coming. Like it even mattered, Joel had already assured your safety. You guessed it was better safe than sorry.

With your head now facing to the left, you gaze over to the far side of the field. So far that walking there would be ineffective. The field, a tad bit sloped, dragged on into the distance stretching too far for you to even consider. The sun made the entire sight something you'd see only from a painting or photograph. Sure enough, Joel wasn't lying from earlier when he confirmed there was a lake, just far off at the ends of the slope.

Joel steady the horse, grabbing the reins tightly to slow her down to a halt. "Alright," the man sighed. You let go of his waist as he began to move, his boots shaking the stirrups while he steps down from the horse. He then reaches his hand up to you. You gladly took it, allowing the man to pull you down.

You thanked him, a small smile stretching across the side of your face as you looked at the older man. He reciprocated your gesture with a smile of his own, one that made the wrinkles near his eyes stand out. He didn't have to mutter a word for you to know that he heeds your words.

The man turned his attention then to the horse, letting go of your hand in the process. He grabbed the reins and moved the horse over to tie it up to on of the porch's pillars. While he does so, you made your way up the few stairs, the wood creaking beneath your shoes.

Your hands trailed along the rails, rough and also smooth against your skin. Your eyes darting up and down the walls. Closely the walls looked more worn down, not too badly but could use some improvement.

You turned to look back at Joel who was slinging his bag over his shoulder. The man brushes his hand by your arm and passes by you. He walked up to the door before pushing it open. He moves his back agains the open frame, "Come".

Peaking inside for a moment, there was no way the house was empty like Joel had inferred. "Empty, huh. Doesn't look the way to me.", you look at the man with a snarky look on your face.

He looked unfazed by your humor, the man's face falling a bit flat. It reminded you of the times he'd looked at you after having to endure some of your playful banter. Those times were fun back when you traveled the country together with Ellie.

"Get in" he insisted, sounding annoyed but also seconds away from chuckling.

You don't push your luck and brush by the man still with that look on your face as you pass by him. To wipe that look off your face, Joel smacks your backside causing you to yelp; biting his lips in sync. It was a bastard move, but you weren't complaining. Looking back at him was either rewarding or a mistake cause he was making the face you familiarizes yourself with, best described as hunger. God. Choosing your next action carefully was smart cause anything that insight him to grab and kiss you, would lead to something more...erotic.

Not giving into temptation, you turn your attention to the living space ahead, balling your hand into a fist and squeezing it with the other hand. "This is...quite the place," you stated, stepping further into the home. You weren't kidding. The place had an aura very reminiscent of a cabin, the amount of woodwork around the living room alone gave you that impression. However, the house looked and felt homey all the same.

You walked up to a small craved out sculpture, shaped like a bull, placed above the small fire place. While inspecting it's form you brought up a question, "How'd you find all this?"

"Me and Tommy we're riding out", he started as the man trailed over to the wall to place his bag down, "And I wanted to do some more exploring but Tommy wanted to go back. So I let him and luck would have you..," the man finishes by raising his arms up some like he was revealing something grand, "...got my hands on this."

You nod, looking away from him to fiddle with the small bull, "Cool, it's like a comfy outpost. I like it". You then used the bull like a pointer, motioning it in the man's direction, "You weren't gonna hold out on us were you?"

Joel shook his head, making his way over to you. "Firstly this isn't a toy," he says, grabbing the small figure out of your hand. He places it back into its original spot before resuming, "And secondly, I was going to tell you, specifically just you about this place."

He was? You raised an eyebrow in question, wondering what significance a place like this would even have. It wasn't somewhere you'd visited with Joel before, nor was it a house that held any meaning to you prior to arriving. So what gives? "Just me", you muttered.

The man smirked some, finding it adorable how dumbfounded you appeared. He stepped closer to you, close enough to where you could feel the warm heat from his nostrils flaring against your face. “Yeah, just you”, he repeated, his voice now closer to a whisper. 

You could feel his hand grasping at yours as you kept your eyes locked with his. “I’m sorry, I feel I’m missing something here”. The man, obviously still listening, lifts your hand up to his own face, gently rubbing it against his cheek. His scruffy beard, pricked your palm as you cupped the man’s face. 

The man wondered if he should even answer. Your palm, tender against his rough skin nearly made him forget how to speak. Made him almost forget what you had even asked. He had held it longer than he should've, feeling slightly guilty for holding something like this off from you. He felt you inquired more than enough today. 

With your palm, slowly being squished between the man's hand and cheek he explains, "I got this for us. At Tommy's...I know things have been different between us since we got there. We, spend a lot of time outside of town, sometimes don't even spend time with each other much anymore. I thought it'd be nice to have our own space again, you know away from...everything. When I found this it just clicked for me. Felt like we could call this place home."

Your face was at ease, hearing him say what had been on your mind, spiked your attraction to the man further than you thought was possible. Every word, every sentence hit the mark for you. For a moment, you could swear he had to have read your mind at some-point. Either that or being with you had made it easy to determine what was bothering you. Regardless, having a place faraway for yourselves sounded too good to deny, especially when it was exactly what you wanted.

You couldn't quite put your thoughts into words, simply letting out a confused giggle, unsure of how to follow up on Joel's reveal.

Joel takes notice of this, captivated once more by your expression. He then breaks the silence, "You've asked a whole of questions. Now let me ask you this, how do you feel about living here with me, sunshine."

You nodded immediately, maybe a bit too quickly and possibly too eagerly. "I'd...love to," the words finally falling out of your mouth.

The man response, turning his head some to kiss your palm between an utter, "Good." His lips softly trailed down, like he was following the curved lines on your hand. Each kiss felt delicate, purposeful, each with some kind of meaning supposedly. That was just within Joel's transcended mind, he couldn't help himself, he got lost quickly whenever he'd feel your touch.

You leaned yourself forward, pulling your hand away from his mouth to wrap it around the back of his neck. Tugging him forward you embrace him, finding his hips as a comfortable spot to rest your free hand. No surprise, Joel indulged, pulling you into his arms too.

The two of you stood for some time, merely appreciating and savoring the moment of intimacy. You didn't think any words could pinpoint how much you loved Joel. Not even the word ‘loved’ felt like it was doing him justice. It was beyond that.

“What did I do to deserve you," he mutters above your ear.

“Luck," you say.

He hums, knowing it to be true but hating the notion of life without you, fighting for you made it all worth something, made it mean something. He made small circles around your back, just being grateful he had you now, thankful that you made it to this point to be there in his arms.

"I'm making dinner," Joel says, catching you off guard for a moment. "Got the ingredients for your favorite."

You knew what he was talking about, it was meal you'd two shared before and you couldn't keep quiet about your enjoyment of the dish, even while eating the damn thing.

Luck would have you, again, you were about to experience that meal again.

---

You turned the running faucet of the soothing shower off, grabbing the towel just off the shower's hinges to wrap yourself in its warmth. Stepping out the tub, you began to dry yourself, wiping away all the sweat you'd built up after leaving Jackson. Once knowing this new place had running water, you were quick to jump for the shower, never skipping the opportunity to get yourself clean.

Joel was just downstairs prepping dinner for the two of you. You wondered if it was already finished since you spent way too long wandering the upstairs plane; checking the available rooms before finding the shower. You were sure it wasn't even done yet since Joel would've called out for your name by that point.

Wiping away the last remnants of water, you threw on some spare clothing, a shirt and just your underwear, from your backpack before stepping out the restroom. The cooler air hit your body, nothing you wouldn't accept since the season was a lot warmer; spring.

You made your way into the master bedroom. In this case, your shared room with Joel. Not much was in it. Compared to the other bedroom, which hosted nothing at all, this one at least had a bed and a few dressers. You weren't complaining since the room felt less compacted and more freeing.

Walking into the room you toss your towel onto the bed, taking in the open space, a stark contrast to your room back in Jackson. The thought of what you could implement to this room had your mind racing momentarily. Like what you could put within the corners or whether you should put any entertaining devices in the room. Maybe not the last part probably cause Joel would advise keeping those contained to the living room.

It got you pretty thrilled thinking about what you could do in general now that you weren't limited to a communities resources. This of course meant you didn't have as much to work with, but everything you gathered would or could be used to further improve your new home.

You started comparing your home back in Jackson to the one you have here. Down to it's interior, format, and spacing. You thought about the kitchen, dinning area, your shared room, Ellie's room. Ellie. Again you thought about her, a realization hitting you in the process. 'Fuck' you sighed under your breath. So caught up and enthralled by a nice change of environment, you hadn't even thought about her wellbeing.

At the moment, she was at Tommy and Maria's place, likely giving them a hard time as you'd expect. The usual for Ellie. But being so far away from her, not being there for her made you somewhat fazed; a pinch of disgrace too. That girl was tough and she needed to grow up around people to understand what it's like to live. But on the other hand, she'd follow you and Joel to the ends of the earth, she said it herself.

Throughout the wave of thoughts, washing within your head, you were by the window now. Hands perched up on the dresser just below the glass's border. The spot made for a great place to reflect. Perhaps this would be a good position to do it, overlooking the grassy plains, it gave your head a hub place to ponder.

If it weren't for you being lost in your thoughts, you would've been aware of the man standing by the door frame watching you; completely out of eyesight. Joel, leaning up on the frame with his arm, exhales an exaggerated sigh to catch your attention.

You turn, startled by the sudden noise. Realizing it was just Joel you relaxed. "You almost gave me a heart attack," you joked.

His presence definitely lightened you up, giving you something to distract yourself from any thoughts running in your head. You'd talk out how to settle Ellie's situation with Joel, it'll work out; you knew it would with Joel by your side.

"Sorry" he started, his eyes gazing upon your exposed legs. "Dinner's ready."

You nod, "Alright. I'll be down in a bit."

You thought after relaying this to Joel, that he'd leave and wait for you downstairs. But he didn't move, his figure remaining still as his eyes stayed focus on you. He nods too, but it seemed more that he did it subconsciously since his eyes weren't locked with yours.

The look was back and more prominent than ever. The dark look that you avoided earlier, was calling out for you to let him have you. Mixed with the half smile across his face made for a deadly combo.

You tried being clever, looking about the room to see if your bag was in sight. It wasn't, but you were sure it was still in the restroom after changing out your clothes. "I'm gonna grab my pants, really quick-"

"You don't have to" Joel says, his fingers playing with his nails. "I think you look fine already."

Failed, you tried getting to see if the man would hold off, tried keeping him at bay at least until you both were in bed. But no, you only drew more attention to your undergarments. To make matters even worse, Joel's gruff voice had caused a twitch between your legs. A slight growth a hardness, noticeable by both of you.

Joel bit his lips, taking his weight off of the door, "You're not too hungry, right?"

This was the one time where choosing your words carefully would be wise at the moment. However, you felt there was no turning back now. He wanted you, now. And you wanted him more. You sheepishly shook your head, "Not really", finally falling for the man's glare.

While you spoke, Joel already had closed the gap between you too, looking into your eyes for a moment. He hooks the front of your trousers with his finger, pulling you closer to him until his lips were locked with yours. You inhaled deeply, feeling a tingle shake your spine.

He cups the sides of your face, passionately parting his lips to slide his tongue inside. Fast as Joel was to get things going, you accepted. The warmth elevated by the mixing of each others taste made the tightness in your underwear uncomfortable.

Joel's huffs deeply into the kiss, his grip, grew stronger with each passing second. His weight started to shift your stance, causing you to back up until you hit the dresser behind you. You grunted against his mouth, not letting the movement stop you from continuing to brush your tongue against his.

Both moaning and breathing heavily, you grab at his collar shirt, playing with one of the buttons to get it open. You tried getting him to undress, a chance taken from you when he grabs your wrist tightly. The man wanted nothing but to feel your skin against his own. He wanted to savior the moment. He liked the build up, he loved the anticipation.

His hands were free from your face, but they soon started invading your shirt. He rampaged through it, running them around your shirt before sticking them in by your sides. You tremble at his touch. His hand created a warm sensation on your skin, reminding you of the times he’d draw circles on your back whenever you’d lay in bed together.

For you, gripping his jawline pulled you two closer, crotches colliding too. It peaked Joel’s interest, his eyebrows raising between the groans against your lips. Joel’s jeans made it difficult to tell, but it was clear you were hard, just as hard as he was. That got him to smile into the kiss, proud he could get you really erect quickly.

You parted your lips from his, only a few inches apart. You used the moment to catch some air, something you knew you wouldn't be granted later the further you proceed.

You questioned his smile, "What?" "Nothing," he says, his accent rolling off the tip of his tongue. "Just you". He waits a moment before throwing himself back into the fray, wanting your lips to be sealed with his.

Aggressive, he pushes you harder against the dresser, unintentionally crushing you moments before dipping down to grab your legs and halting you onto the wooded surface. The dresser creaked, not adapted to a person being onto but that didn't concern either of you. The man caress your thigh, slow and aimlessly, while his other hand yanked at the front of your underwear once more.

He wanted you to take them off so badly and you didn't waste a moment. You shook yourself, getting enough room under you to slip them off. Joel helped, his steaming breath hitting your slowly exposing skin made you pick the pace up. He help fully get them off, letting the cloth hit the ground. His gaze fixed on your now exposed erection made him forget to breathe.

“Now your turn”, you said.

Rubbing his hands down your legs, he reaches down for his zipper to unbuckled his pants. His belt clicked and his pants loosened, dropping everything done to the floor with a thud. He swiftly took his underwear off too, slipping it fully off and sliding everything off to the side with his feet.

You let out a shaky exhale, your eyes so baffled by how hard his cock was; rock solid and strictly standing upward. Your started pondering if you could even take it. Under these conditions you would have to take him raw. There had to be something to use, you thought something to make it easier for him.

“Hey”, Joel’s voice soft on your ears. He tilts your head up to hold your gaze, “Eyes on me.” He slowly caresses the features on your face, adoring just how amazing your eyes looked and how kissable your lips were. Those lips, looking at them intently he slips his thump across the bottom half. He wanted to nibble on them, gently bite to leave a mark on them; to leave evidence of his pass doings.

He used his other hand to play with your cock, making sure you were staying hard for him. You assisted him with your palm overlapping his; working in unison. It was subtle and worked to keep you both pleasured while focusing on the man.

Joel dipped his finger between your lips, “Open your mouth, baby”. Your lips separated and he slid his finger in. A bitter taste hit the roof of your mouth as he swirled his finger around. “Get it nice and wet for me. Gonna need it for the hole of yours.”

So this was the alternative. Normally you and Joel would talk about using some sort of cream for sex. With seemingly none around to use, your mouth would have to do. You started sucking on his finger for a bit, his thick finger, took up a good portion of your mouth. Not enough to suffocate like his cock, but enough to make you think about how to manage your tongue’s movement. After the first finger he switched it out for another, a small line of saliva leaking out every time he’d pull out.

Three finger were soaked now, three fingers you were sure would break you, more than his cock would. You shiver, trying to estimate the width of his fingers with that of his cock. It served no purpose other than question your capabilities. What good did that do you, especially now?

Joel releases your cock, and trails his hands down to your balls. You knew where he was headed, this wasn’t your first rodeo with Joel. You lifted your leg up, leaning back onto one elbow to keep yourself upright. Joel effortlessly threw your hovering leg over his shoulder, getting a view of what he’d been dying to see. Your hole, albeit at an angle was still visible and accessible which was the only thing that mattered to Joel.

The man, looked to your eyes for conformation, he wanted to make sure you were ready. There wasn't a hint of denial in your face, Joel loved that look.

Coming into close contact, he circles around your entrance. His rough fingers toyed with your hole, allowing the sensations to prepare you for his soon to come entry. God the feeling alone was making you wish he just put himself inside you, knowing it might hurt but still wanting him to push deep in.

No longer waiting, Joel pushes a finger inside, slowly. You narrowed your brows, the walls of your ass being breached caused a slight spark in your stomach. His finger slid relatively easily, getting your breathing to become shakier than before. It was nothing you couldn't take and his finger was satisfying, it might've been enough to make you cum. His second finger though, made itself known too, pushing in with the first.

You winced, wishing Joel had warned you. Two thick fingers inside was about right, it felt about the size of Joel's cock at it's hardest. Staying with this rhythmic push and pull inside your hole made you believe you were ready for him to fuck you. But one other finger remained, one still damp and set to go.

A yelp escaped your lips feeling the third join the other two. It hurt for sure, causing you to throw your head back as a jolt reaction. You bump the glass pane behind you, the light outside barely shining onto the side of your face. You reached up to grab at Joel's collar, the fabric bringing some level of comfort with it's pure softness.

"Relax..." the man groans.

Fuck you wanted to, but how could you when the man was expanding your ass with every thrust. It made you grip his collar tightly as you kept your eyes tight to prevent it a tear from falling. The feeling was both painful and enjoyable, the tingles running up your stomach never ceased and neither did the sting in your hole.

You started to tell, no, insist that he fuck you. It escaped your mouth through a whine, a part of you wanting him to just remove a finger or two to let you relax. You knew it had purpose, you knew why he was pushing your limits. The longer you held, the easier it would be for him to push himself inside of you. Still you begged, "Please...Joel...take me, just fuck me."

Through your closed eyelids you couldn't see the man, shamelessly smirking, "Oh yeah? Tell me how bad you want it, sugar pie."

You gasp, "Bad".

He groans, "Yeah?". He licks his lips, "Want me to go really deep in there, want to me fuck you real good."

"Uh...huh"

He pushes fingers deeper than usual "How badly?"

You gasped, "Really fucking bad. FUCK".

Joel groans, acknowledging your plead. If you wanted it that badly, he wish you told him sooner. He pulls his fingers out, the sounds of your hole getting him excited. It was wet now, just the way he liked it. In one swift motion, Joel flings your other, idle leg over his shoulder and yanks you forward until your backside was against his crotch. His cock, bumping into your balls got another sound out of you.

You relax into the dresser the best you could, letting your elbows rest and leaning your head back until it was laying against the glass again. It wasn't the most comfortable positions for your neck, you didn't pay much mind to this though as Joel began running his hands up your thighs. With your legs so close to his face, he also started leaving kisses and bite marks you knew would be visible the next day. He wasn't about to let you off without at least some marking, whether it'd be visible later or hidden by your clothes didn't concern him.

Breathing hard against your skin, his gaze turns back to his hard-on. He reaches for it, while overlooking your body. He lines it up to your hole pushing, not inside of you yet, but rather around the exterior.

Again with the teasing, you thought, wanting to roll your eyes but refusing to try. Did the man not tire of his own nonsense? You shifted your hip toward his cock, physically telling him to knock it off and shove it in you.

He locks eyes with you then, seeing your desperate and longing expression. You chewed down on your lips, seeing how the man's eyes had darken since last you laid upon them. He just smirked, looking down between your legs before pushing himself in.

It hurt but not as much as his fingers. The aftermath of those three invaders acted as a testament to how well you could still take the man in strides. For what it was worth, they did make it easier for him to slide into you.

He slipped in and out easily, smooth like butter. His thrust started methodically, getting familiar with your hole's interior again. He groaned, his cock pulsating against the edges, trying to find your sweet spot.

He wasn't able too, it wasn't that easy. You had laid there making hush moans that could only be audible for anyone within the room. It was striking and incredibly hot to Joel hearing you try to conceal your voice. It came off is if you were going to burst, like you were going to scream out his name, that was something else entirely.

Thinking about it gave him a surge, a rush that rapidly increases his pace. His hips smacking up against your ass, created a sound that vibrated your body. Each smack, was music to the man's ears, meld together now with your rising grunts. It probably was the best thing he'd ever heard.

You were losing it on the other hand. Your body trembled, your eyes became hazy, your mind completely in shambles; a mess best described it all. So much so that you had no idea what was even happening, questioning what was even real.

Were you becoming stupid with each thrust or did you completely lose your mind to him. His strides were beginning to make you see stars, more pleasing than the ones you'd see in the sky. A sudden overwhelming feeling rushes from your stomach all the way to your head, the strongest sensation you've felt all day. It made you feel light, like you had been consumed by the clouds.

This strange halt in your mind lasted for a minute before coming back from being on autopilot. You were semi-confused as your body was on a softer surface now. Your body lays flat, Joel's entire weight on top of you. Your senses were coming back to you.

The dresser was no longer your resting place but rather it was now the bed. Joel had lifted you up moments ago, still inside you, and crashed you both onto the mattress. Surprisingly that didn't snap you out of it, but what was even more confusing was the wetness near your stomach, just in between your stomach and Joel's. It was quite sticky. Wait, you stopped your mind from racing, ignoring Joel's rough groans in your ears for a second. You already came, you totally did. Your cock didn't feel restrained nor was it in any desire need to let loose any longer.

Shit, you thought, not realizing the man had satisfied you. You got lost in thought due to him hitting your sweet spot, it explained why your mind went into a frenzy. The feeling sent you over the edge again, jolting you back to reality this time; he hit it again.

You cry out as a response.

"Fuck, I'm gonna blow, I'm gonna fucking blow". Joel groaned.

You couldn't speak a word, it was too much, too much to bear. You dug your nails into the back of his shirt and pulled him closer with your legs around his waist. Your strength was dwindling, and you didn't have the voice to tell him to finish. If he kept it up any longer you were surely gonna cum again.

Joel's voice was deafening against your ears, his rhythm completely erratic and harsh against your hole. He went all out, posting himself up onto his elbows and thrusting into you like it was his last. He could feel the sharpness on his back, a deep sting from you nails pushing further into his skin. He watched as tears rolled down your face, wanting nothing but to wipe them away. He was right there, he could feel it rising up.

A few more rough thrusts did the trick. Joel grunted, holding his breath for a second as his cock convulsed before blowing. It came out fast, faster than he expected, squirting strings of cum in succession against your interior. He squinted his eyes, as he came quickly back down to your neck.

Joel's cock had settled, just as the two of you were. Exhausted beyond belief, you felt weak, one of your slipping off the man's back. You both relish in each other's touch, your breaths becoming steady at last.

The man's body shifts, causing you discomfort from still being inside of you. He reaches down to pull out, a quiet groan breaking free from your sealed lips. He used his other hand to cup and rub your cheek, his way of showing his gentleness after the affair. The man's cum oozed out, running down onto the mattress. You could feel how wet and loose it had become. Compared to the last time Joel had fucked you, you weren't as messy as you were now.

He then looked over to the side, seeing the towel you had used from earlier. He grabs it and wipes away the stains on your stomach.

You let out a sigh followed by locking eyes with Joel. They looked a lot more calmer, vibrant even just by his soothing demeanor.

As he finished wiping you clean the corner of his lips rose, "We should go eat."

Just like that, he had nothing left to say, acting as if nothing just happened. You scoffed at how quick the man could go from wanting to devour you to being a sensual man who wanted to give you the world. You weren't ready to rise from your position, not yet. You yank the towel out of his grasp before pulling him back down onto you.

Dinner can wait, just a bit longer.

[jeffreyprynce]

This was written about a year ago, posted to Substack. I’ve since migrated Substack posts to Tumblr.

Spirit of America,

My brother and I are freakishly alike. There’s a four-and-a-half year gap between us — I’m the oldest — but friends and family have remained perplexed by our similar physical traits, personal beliefs, philosophies, hopes and dreams, and other miscellaneous things that make us tick. We’re basically twins with a chunk of time between us.

Such as it is, we’ve had this… thing… where when something meaningful happens in our collective presence — something significant enough to give us pause — we look at each other. It sounds trivial, but it’s anything but. At such a time, we are indeed compelled to look at each other and hold each other’s gaze. I’ve come to refer to this as our moment.

Our moment is a phenomenon that happened often throughout our childhood as we watched shows and movies. If something particularly cool — or gruesome, in the case of horror films, which we were huge fans of then and continue to be today — happened, it would undoubtedly occur. I remember one such moment in 2000 as we watched The Exorcist: The Version You’ve Never Seen in a theatre. Immediately following the spider-walk scene, infamous at the time for its removal from all previous versions of the film (the wires used to suspend Linda Blair’s stunt double were a bit too visible, requiring computer-generated assistance for their erasure), we had a moment. I recall it vividly, that as the guttural growl and subsequent reverb of the possessed Regan MacNeil faded away, we looked at each other in the semi-dark of the theatre.

I had goosebumps. I’m sure he did, too.

It’s just like me to insert horror pop culture into a seemingly unrelated post. Ask my friends and family: you can’t talk to me for long before I bring up some paranormal or supernatural event or miscellaneous ethereal “coincidence”. You’ll have to excuse me.

The moment I’m here to really dissect is one we had on the evening of November 4, 2008. We were in Toronto, eight years out from a thirteen-year stint at trying to make a life for ourselves in the U.S. They were often good years, often tough years. They were dramatic years, frustrating years. They were years filled with the kind of ups and downs often experienced by black folks trying to thrive in America. Having thrown in the towel, even being Canadian born, we felt — my brother and I — a certain obligation to know and care about what was happening in the U.S. It was a curious sense of commitment that we harbored, and still do; that having escaped (back) to the more black-friendly north, we remained concerned about the loved ones we’d left in our dust. It was like leaving your family behind when they were in a pickle; in a third-world country, perhaps, where dreams of better places, better situations abound, or a war-torn region, where just as the enemy had begun to encroach upon your own neighborhood, you’d been scooped up and swept away to what amounted to paradise in comparison. We hurt for our good-hearted allies, of which there are many.

So it was that when Barack Obama was officially projected to be the next president-elect, we converged upon the living room that evening after dinner in our Scarborough, Ontario home, my mother and stepfather embracing on the couch, my brother and I standing, so riveted were we. And there was something about seeing Barack on that stage, with his supporters surrounding him, trying (and failing) to control the volume of their cheers in anticipation of the truly momentous speech to come. The convivial contrast of a cool November night beyond them made the image dream-like, and my brother and I had a moment. It had happened: a black president of the United States had been elected in our lifetime.

There were a number of images that came to mind in that moment, and they were all of the same theme: Martin Luther King’s dream had finally come to fruition in full. We were no longer trudging uphill, faces stonily set against cold winds emanating from cold, bigoted hearts. It was a downhill journey from that point on, no exertion needed. From that point on, the election of a black president of the United States (and a good man, an exceptional man), would carry us through to the promised land. Right?

As one Donald Trump derisively intoned as he leaned in to the microphone on his podium during a debate with Hillary Clinton, pursed lips resembling a pink puckered anus: “Wrong.”

Incidentally, I wonder if any of you remember a certain thread of discussion that was making the rounds on social media platforms just after his election. It can be summarized essentially thus: Black folks been knew, and white folks didn’t listen to us; have never listened to us.

Immediately post-election, all over Twitter, black folks young and old were nodding and smirking and shaking their heads, saying, “We warned you.” And with some context and education, you came to know what we meant then, but I fear you’ve since forgotten, that what’s happening to your country right now is, quite literally, all about race. Had you heeded our collective call that white nationalist racism was coming to a boil, and that the nation was the proverbial frog thus slowly, insidiously being cooked, you could’ve mobilized. You could’ve prodded that frog; gave it a little poke; jump, Mr. Toad, jump.

Here you have Donald Trump at an about-face. He’s back. And I don’t think it’s going to be a landslide victory for the Democratic Party come November, if it does manage a victory. If the Democrats do win, it’ll be a victory they eked out; a tight squeal, like that thin, wounded sound that seeps from the pinched orifice of a balloon.

I do pray that you won’t wake up on November 6, 2024 with Donald Trump as your revenge president-elect. I pray he won’t spider-walk into your lives as commander-in-chief once again. Though, do take heed that after an exorcism, the exorcee is grandly advised by the exorcist, himself weary and battle-scarred, to be spiritually on the defensive. Always. Because he knows that if the demon returns, it won’t come alone; it’ll come with seven others. Seven devils. And the state of the body again possessed will be worse than it was the first time. Much worse.

In an architectural sense, do not be mistaken: Donald Trump’s reign over the Republican Party is not being held up by politics. It is not being propped up by a desire for a better future for all Americans. It is not innocent. It is being propped up by a hatred for people who are not white. Yes, it is indeed that simple. If you think otherwise, ask yourself this: If you could rewind society to what it was in, let’s say, the late 1980s, when cultural and racial diversity were less visible and whiteness was the order of the day everywhere you looked, do you think Donald Trump would be on the ballot, let alone seeking a second term?

I don’t think so.

I think Donald Trump would be in New York, doing Donald Trump things; wheeling and dealing in real estate, managing hotels and casinos, running fake establishments (universities, et al.), appearing on WWE Smackdown, that sort of thing. As it is, in today’s society, he is a living martyr and a wrecking ball for the kind of people who get together to uniformly wear Polo shirts and clutch tiki torches, chanting, “You will not replace us!”

For further clarity, look no further than the words of Toni Morrison, as they appeared in The New Yorker ten days after Donald Trump was first elected:

“These sacrifices, made by supposedly tough white men, who are prepared to abandon their humanity out of fear of black men and women, suggest the true horror of lost status.

“It may be hard to feel pity for the men who are making these bizarre sacrifices in the name of white power and supremacy. Personal debasement is not easy for white people (especially for white men), but to retain the conviction of their superiority to others — especially to black people — they are willing to risk contempt, and to be reviled by the mature, the sophisticated, and the strong. If it weren’t so ignorant and pitiful, one could mourn this collapse of dignity in service to an evil cause.”

Morrison wrote of the extremes white nationalists have gone to in an attempt to “restore whiteness to its former status as a marker of national identity”. She wrote that “Unlike any nation in Europe, the United States holds whiteness as the unifying force” and that “These people are not so much angry as terrified, with the kind of terror that makes knees tremble.” Given that she wrote the essay in response to Trump’s election, you’d do best to print it out and pin it to your wall or your fridge, or, at the very least, to fold it up and tuck it into a folder or journal for easy reference when your conservative peers and/or family members say or do things that confound you.

Only when you understand this and accept it will you have a chance at staving off the storm Trump is riding in on, like some apocalyptic herald. Because when you’ve accepted it, you’ll see it all around you. Little fires everywhere. Then and only then will you be able to stamp them out before they conjoin. With your friends. With your family. And, most importantly, those independent voters, the ones on the fence who will see the Republican Party for the repugnant, shambling thing it has become, and subsequently tip the scales.

As of my writing this, there’s still time. The drive to suffocate racism in America is the banner under which you’ll find victory; if not for this election, for the soul of your nation. I shudder to think of how a vengeful second term of Trump in the White House will affect the conflicts in Gaza and the Ukraine, for example, or South Sudan, Ecuador, the Congo. And I'd be remiss to remind you that in terms of the bloodshed in Gaza, of the two candidates, Donald Trump is the one who is least bendable in terms of seeking to end the wholesale murder of innocent Palestinian people. While Harris is prone to listening to those of us who plead for Palestinians, and prone to scolding Netanyahu as Biden did ("Bibi, what the fuck?"), Trump is not. Quite the contrary, Trump has said he will side with Benjamin Netanyahu unwaveringly.

Lately, when my brother and I see each other, now as Canadian men having mostly recovered from the constant, hovering threat of racist white Americans, we inevitably have our moments about what antics Trump has been up to. We never have much to say about him and his enablers anymore. Not like we did in 2016. Because there’s nothing new under the sun, is there? What we understand is that y’all still aren’t getting it. We handed you the keys and you fumbled them once again, unaware that they’d long since tumbled into that cold, damp manhole sewer of blissful American ignorance.

And yet I wish the best for you. I hope for a miracle, fingers and toes crossed, prayers up, and incense lit.

From Canada with love,

Your Wayward Son

[supernovafeather]

A Loving Couple

Leto Atreides x F!Reader

Summary : Leto and his wife enjoy some alone time in their quarters.

Content : fluff, slight angst (nightmare), fluff fluff fluff, sexual innuendo.

Please comment and reblog if you like it !

The moon seemed to levitate high in the skies, left unbothered by the noise of thehundreds of powerful waves that attempted to dig their way up the cliffs. Behind your chambers window, you suddenly felt tiny and insignificant as you remembered the solar system simulations you got to study years before. From there you couldn't feel the powerful wind exploding with rage and affected anything that could get stuck in its grasp from leaves to flags that were too loose in the first place, the Atreides coat of arms flying away into darkness. You narrowed your eyes, a sudden anxiety gnawing you from the inside as your wet palms played with your nightgown. One day this House would disappear, like any other one. Nothing was eternal, no ideology, no name, no civilization. Even the ones you cherished the most, as well as your memories.

"Afraid of the storm," inquired a voice behind you.

Leto had been mostly silent tonight, too tired to even try to start any meaningful conversation. This could have passed for negligence for his spouse but you knew better as you let him embrace you from behind, your gaze still glued to the sudden rain now whipping the land. The way he hold you was firm, reassuring. That was what he did best. A safe and protective soul by your side that appreciated your own safety and protective nature.

"No," you replied with a frown, "it's merely an inconvenience tonight. But I found it quite beautiful when the moonlight bathed the scenery. Now it only looks more sinister. Depressing. This time it feels as if the sun is never to be seen again."

Without much reaction to the butterfly kisses finding their favorite spot on your neck, you stared at the moon. It was magnificent. Sometimes you wished you had nothing to do with all those political affairs. Maybe being a rock floating across the solar system would make more sense but alas you got doomed by mankind's greatest and most horrifying gift : consciousness.

"I know how to distract a Lady upset by those negative thoughts," he mumbled before nibbling your ear. "Of course you do," you chuckled, "you always know. You always have a solution to everything." "I try my best. So please my Lady, how may I put an end to this melancholy of yours? If I may add… do you have any detail coming to your mind? Something we could explore together."

After a long list full of previous marital experiments as well as quite a long time spent at testing them again just to make sure you got it right, slumber found you. Then dawn found you as well and for once you were the one being awake first, in a good mood at the sight of your husband completely lost in his deep sleep. The comical view of his open mouth soon let place to a sour feeling as he closed it, his jaws clenching and his thick beard rubbing against the pillow. You knew that face too well and soon the nervous gestures of his arms muscles showed you how right you were. In silence, you extended your hand to Leto, grazing his temple gently with a sympathetic look. He exhaled sharply before jolting but still asleep he then turned his head the other way, clenched his jaws. Another jolts.

"I love you Leto. I'm here," you whispered.

Your husband calmed down and muttered something under his breath as you wiped the thin layer of sweat now forming on his forehead.

"Not fire not again," he mumbled between undecipherable words. "No there is no fire Leto, I'm here right next to you." "They said you weren't."

Some pride remained in him. He would refuse to acknowledge how damaging it had been for him to hear all the remarks about your marriage. All those insults, rumours, jokes. The sincere worries about their respected Duke about to share his life with a widow accused of being a serial widower. Leto was the love of your life and no question mark would ever appear next to those words. You fell hard for a man that chose you for an arranged marriage after thinking that life had nothing to give you anymore. Life gave you the greatest present it had to offer. And this gift needed reassurance.

"I'm here Leto I love you. I'm listening to you and answering. Everything's fine my beloved Duke." "But the fire…" he argued faintly. "There is no fire. I'm not in there. I'm here, healthy and right by your side." "They didn't burn you," he asked with a confused frown. "I'm safe "

A slight convulsion of his legs then he turned his head towards you as he could feel your hand playing with his beard. His lips looked dry so you stopped touching him to pour some fresh water in the glass waiting on the table right by your side of the bed.

"A river, love it" he mumbled.

You smiled, put the glass down the table before crawling up to Leto, a kiss placed on his forehead as you felt his mind calming down.

"A beautiful river, birds singing and your wife that loves you," you promised.

The sudden and powerful snore coming out of his mouth woke Leto up as violently as you jolted away from him and you watched the way he scratched his beard with closed eyes, his tired face translating the confusion reigning in his mind after this.

"Good morning my lovely liege, I got some water for you." "G'morning," he groaned in a cracked deep voice.

It took him a few seconds to stop looking around, a smile appearing as the nightmare left his mind slowly but for good. As your husband took long sips you kissed his cheek then his temple, grinning while doing so as you got closer to him, your hands wandering under the blanket to run down his warm thigh flesh. After he finished drinking he raised an eyebrow at you.

"How can you do it more than twice" he asked in disbelief. "I just wanted you to start a new great day with your great wife and her great care. So let's say that three might be good sometimes."

After a few seconds spent at rubbing his thigh you kissed the corner of his lips to push your corruption attempt even further.

"I love you Leto. I hope you know it. You are a wonderful husband. Not only in bed. In general." "I love you too and thank you, wonderful wife but I have the regret to inform you that sadly, this won't be possible right now," he replied with a tired face but mischievous eyes.

Not insisting anymore you still let a trail of kisses on his bare shoulder, appreciating the muscles rolling under his skin. Even when nonsexual the contact of his skin appeased you. This was his power.

"As you wish my Lord, my Duke, my liege," you whispered against his lips.

Leto kissed you deeply with a slight grin that vanished as he interrupted the kiss in an almost authoritative shift, a stern gaze examining your face.

"Why so much eagerness this morning ?" "I don't know. I want my husband to be all mine all the time these days. I love him very much after all." "I'm all yours every day, every second. After all I have other ways to show you, even when I'm tired."

The playful mood erupting on your face got replaced by one of surprise as you fell backwards. The laugh that erupted from your mouth echoed in your ears before getting silenced by a gentle kiss crowned with a smile.

- - - - -

Thank you for reading please comment and reblog if you like it !

@queen-of-elves @qrjung

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

If you’re fine with it, can I request a drabble with neighbour!jason with the first time they met with Jason helping reader move into her apartment and all the grannies getting excited?

"What the fuck?"

Jason rolled to his feet where he'd crashed out on his couch 4.2 seconds after stashing his gear and taking his boots off and staggered to the door.

A loud crash and string of muffled swearing had him flinging open the door- only to be met with a sweet, if sweaty face and boxes that had toppled off a moving dolly and onto the floor.

"Lady what the-"

"Sorry," you say quickly, hurrying to pick stuff off the floor, grunting with effort, "I uh- Just trying to get this moved in and then-"

Neighbors were, Jason was sure, eagerly listening in. He lived on a floor of mostly older people with married children who had nothing better to do than try and marry off any person between the ages of 18 and 40... The number of giggling college girls who'd brought him this or that from an aunt or a grandma was appalling. And here, a cute, young thing was moving in right across the hall.

It was enough to make him want to shut the door and just put earplugs in. Or move just to avoid the nudges and meaningful looks.

But, the hand you were holding out to him was trembling and you had these big doe eyes that made you look like a mean look would probably have you in tears and he just... couldn't. Not when he knew he could just move the fucking boxes.

He hears your name and it takes him a second. Sleep deprivation overriding years of Alfred patiently hammering manners into his head- just narrowly missing making it more awkward trying to shake a hand you'd already started to retract, "Jason," he said. "I work nights."

One lie is as good as any other, he supposes. An apology and an explanation as he offers a half smile.

"I work from home- mostly. I uh-"

You look away, looking down at the scattered boxes and start to pick one up, the trembling in your hands making it hard to get a good grip. Which only made it worse.

Jason winced in sympathy, "I can help- if you don't mind?" he offered. He'd lay money on you running from something. Or someone.

"I already woke you up I can- it's fine-"

"Nah," he said, picking up a box easily, "It's not a big deal. You got more downstairs?"

"This is it I uh-" you fluster and push the door open with your hip, pulling the little dolly out of the way. "I just didn't want-"

"Traveling light has its perks," he said, following you inside just far enough to set a box down. Not remarking on the lack of furniture before making short work of the other three boxes.

"Thanks, I uh- I don't have any cash or anything but-"

"I'm not taking your money to heft a couple boxes," he snorted pushing hair out of his face with one hand and stepping back into the hall.

"Would you take some brownies?" you ask, not looking at him. "It's not much but-"

"For 5 minutes of work?" he asked smiling. Small-town kid then.

"I just- I woke you up and then-"

"Easiest moving job I ever helped with," he assured you. "Lemme know if you want help hanging pictures or something... sometime after like 4, though." And before you could stammer out an apology, he turned and walked back into his apartment, gently shutting the door. If it made you feel better, he'd take a plate of box mix brownies and pretend to like them. He'd just have to make sure the Lennox sisters didn't catch on. Because once they did, he'd never hear the end of it.

[magnorious]

The Reveal that Changed Percy Jackson

*Spoiler Alert*

I’m talking about the Nico vs Cupid scene in book 8, House of Hades. I picked this scene, even though there were a great many in the original series that defined Percy Jackson as a story far more meaningful than just “cool tweenage demigods with magic and superpowers who fight evil”.

When this book came out, Nico vs Cupid was almost all anyone talked about. Why? Because Nico came out. Nico, an explicitly gay character in a book published by Disney, in a rather high profile series. Nico, the little angsty brat displaced from the timeline, comes out of nowhere with a world-shattering reveal.

House of Hades is already the darkest book in the series and, I think, the most polished and successful with this tone and how it feels so complete. While Percy and Annabeth are in Tartarus, the constant clever and horrific callbacks to quests from prior books quite literally come back to haunt them. The others trying to carry on without them, the ridiculously high personal stakes, the drama, the storytelling, it spares no expense in this book.

The Nico vs Cupid scene was something else, though, and all these years later… I’m not so sure it was done for the better.

—

Independent of the Big Reveal, this scene does a lot of things we’d never seen before in this series, namely this: Cupid is scary, and no one expected him to be.

Percy Jackson, though it does have its serious moments, is the series where the god of wine wears leopard print shirts and the god of the seas has a fishing chair for a throne. These characters quip and joke even when they’re trying to be intimidating and Percy’s personality, snarky and sassy and very rarely shooting straight, undercuts a lot of the attempts at looking competent and threatening (and we love him for it).

They’ve fought gods and monsters and demigods and characters have died really tragic deaths, but for the most part, these serious moments all come when we expect them to.

This scene comes out of nowhere and for anyone who hasn’t read the book in a while, here’s the context: Percy and Annabeth are in Tartarus and Nico is kind of the de-facto leader in their absence, knowing the most about Tartarus of the remaining crew. He and Jason are sent on a side quest to go retrieve the Staff of Diocletian from Cupid and Nico is not at all happy about this venture, but we don’t know why beyond that he’s Nico and he’s never happy.

Right out of the gate, Cupid is not at all who we expect him to be and this fight scene, absent of Percy, is suddenly very serious. Cupid doesn’t quip, he doesn’t show himself, and he fights dirty. The god of love, not the god of war or anything we expect to be violent and dangerous.

He’s whispering in characters’ heads, throwing them around like ragdolls, and taunting Nico ceaselessly all in Jason’s POV. Cupid gets some seriously badass lines, too.

“I’ve been to Tartarus and back,” Nico snarled. “You don’t scare me.” I scare you very, very much. Face me. Be honest.

Love is no game! It is no flowery softness! It is hard work—a quest that never ends. It demands everything from you—especially the truth. Only then does it yield rewards.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say Love always makes you happy.” [Cupid's] voice sounded smaller, much more human. “Sometimes it makes you incredibly sad. But at least you’ve faced it now. That’s the only way to conquer me.”

In all this, unfortunately in Jason POV, we’re primed only once by a previous god finally acknowledging that gays exist in this universe. This universe, based on Greek Mythology, famous for its not-straightness. Even then, audiences have spent 7 and a half books accepting that there won’t be any gays. No one is expecting this from Nico.

So when it comes, when Nico reveals he has a crush on Percy… the fandom lost our minds.

—

And I’m not so sure that’s a good thing, looking back. On the one hand, obligatory “we need representation,” but on the other, there was this one reviewer who knew what was up long before anyone else did.

She’d said something along the lines of raising damning concerns that Nico’s entire character arc was now defined by his homosexuality, that this scene frames all his anger, all his hate, all his rage and depression, about this one aspect of his character, and diminishes him because of it.

All these years later, I’m disappointed to say I agree with her.

This book series’ only major canonical gay (so far) is forced out of the closet with a proverbial gun to his head

Now, Nico likely never would have come out without that gun, but the way it happened, especially in front of Jason who he’s not friends with, showing Jason his memories because it’s not Nico’s POV and Jason has to see somehow because Nico sure won’t detail those scenes himself is... not good?

Jason handles it well, as well as he can given that this is Nico, and Cupid is an explicit villain so him forcing Nico out is in-character and not my problem. The narrative forcing Nico out is the problem—that this is a big reveal both to Jason and the audience is the problem.

The book isn’t new and with respect to when it was written and who wrote it, it’s not a terrible scene or terrible representation. But it’s not just forcing Nico out of the closet, either.

All of Nico’s character development is retroactively pinned on his sexuality

I get it. Nico’s… 14? 14 and from an era where being who he is was a death sentence, with zero education on the matter. Internalized homophobia is a thing (though Nico doesn’t actually seem to hate himself for being gay, he hates himself for crushing on Percy. Nor does he hate other gays or the concept).

Nico, though, is the one demigod who can summon any ghost he could dream up to teach him to hate himself a little less. He could have summoned the ghost of Freddie Mercury and what a dazzling mentorship that would have been.

The way the scene is framed makes it look like all of Nico’s rage comes from this one relationship, when it comes from so much more. He’s a son of Hades, a god no one trusts or likes and is synonymous with death, evil, and deceit. His sister, his last living relative, died on a quest as just a teenager. He has no friends at camp, powers that scare people, and is almost a century removed from everything and everyone he knew in his old life.

And he went and left camp *only* because of his crush on Percy? Not for any other reason?

When he does get his crush on Will, that only makes it worse. Nico did have friends, even if he didn’t believe it. He did have Percy and he’d earned the respect of his fellow campers after the Battle of Manhattan. He back-slid in HOH for this reveal, as if a romance is the only thing that could make him happy.

Cupid’s message is the narrative’s message: The only way to conquer love is to face it [in combat]

With a gun to his head, in front of a veritable stranger, instead of in, I don’t know, therapy with Apollo? There couldn’t have been any other way to fit this reveal in? He couldn’t have made his own group therapy session with other ghosts? Persephone or Demeter never sat this boy down for The Talk with a literal captive audience?

And that it’s a “reveal” at all, in incredibly dramatic fashion, a plot twist for shock value. The book couldn’t drop hints in Nico POV? Couldn’t casually state it anywhere at any time in the previous 3 books? Couldn’t treat it at all like this is normal and not a life-or-death situation?

I just feel bad for the kid. Nico can’t be the only demigod who has a guilty, unrequited crush. Cupid is forcing this out of him because that crush happens to be on another boy.

It’s in Jason’s POV

This world shattering, deeply personal reveal, and the character who’s having it isn’t even the narrator. Jason is a fine character and I know why it’s him out of everyone who could have gone with Nico, but this should have been solely Nico’s moment, not Jason’s commentary about Nico’s moment, being a non-consenting voyeur into Nico’s very personal memories about Percy.

Even if it’s not Jason’s POV to retain the surprise, it certainly starts to feel like Jason’s POV to retain the surprise. Jason can still be present, but even then—Cupid needed Nico to face Cupid, not Cupid and Jason.

—

It sucks because the scene as a whole, removed from the context, is incredible. The choreography, the pacing, the intensity of the battle, Cupid as a villain and Nico and Jason’s desperation to just stay alive.

Its impact on the series can’t be ignored. Blood of Olympus is no one’s favorite. It’s a terrible last book and not all that great as a book, period, but the ending?

Among other travesties, Nico confronts Percy, tells him he had a crush on him, and then *immediately* starts pining after Will. Percy doesn’t get the chance to talk to him, stunned at this reveal. They never have a heartfelt conversation about it, what this means for their friendship, how Percy never noticed or how this makes him feel, if he’s at all guilty for potentially leading Nico on and being a bad friend.

We get none of that. Nico just finds a pretty blond boy after, what, four years pining after Percy? One awful confrontation with Cupid and a few lines of dialogue traded with Jason and all his angst and moodiness is cured off-screen.

Can’t Nico go five minutes where he figures out who he is before he’s trading one crush for another? Can he not define himself independently of who he likes for just a couple chapters? He tells Jason after the Cupid fight that he’s over it, but… c’mon, he’s absolutely lying there, or he wouldn’t have been so hurt and upset and hesitant to reveal himself.

I love that he’s popular now, I love that he does have a healthy relationship (one that eclipsed the whole fandom for better or for worse), but the way he went about becoming popular still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Nico did walk so the rest of the series' extended universe could run. We did get Solangelo, we got Apollo being Apollo, we got a world based off Greek Mythology that stops straight-washing history. It's just a shame that he had to be forced out the way he did, and that his whole character is now defined by his relationship with Will.

[fandomfaeofveryfewf4cks]

Things I noticed the nth time watching Nimona:

Knight armour can get sliced through like nobody's business (Balister's arm), but can take a laser hit without serious, body-altering consequences (Director hitting Ambrosius with a laser made from the same one that apparently has the power to wipe out half the realm, or kill an Immortal being who doesn't feel severe pain from an arrow wound)?

...is this because Ambrosius' armour was made to be more protective than Balister's?

"She manipulated BOTH of us." Ambrosius says this about Nimona, who he had very few interactions with aside from her very blatantly fucking shit up for the institute. How did she manipulate HIM?

I guess it probably makes sense when you consider he was going to arrest the director, implying that he believed Bal AND Nimona, but I dunno. The little rat in my head started running on its brain-powering wheel at all the possible fanfic plots this could lead to.

Nimona as Ambrosius grabbed the Gloreth statue when they fell to the ground.

On the one hand, this could just be actor!Nimona putting dramatic emphasis on how even in death, the leaders of the realm will cling to their hopes and beliefs, or the golden boy finally getting to join his ancestor.

On the other hand, we could make it deliciously angsty (yum yum) and say it is Nimona's personal desire to grab the statue of Gloreth for reasons such as: taking down the monster-killer image of her former friend out of anger and sadness because she never wanted that image to be so true in representing one of the few people who ever cared about her even briefly;

OR, While trying to think about how she would act if she were actually dying, she reaches for the closest thing to a friend that she has, but this is her staging a false death, as that particular friendship was false so this is just fitting, isn't it?;

OR, They wanted it to spread a message that with the fall of the director, would come the fall of the corrupt system they live in, as well as the fall of this narrow-minded view of both Nimona and Gloreth's story as well as Gloreth and Nimona themselves.

Nimona freaking out about the arrow in their leg in the comic vs Nimona treating it like a little scrape not to be worried about in the movie.

This is really interesting to me. In the comic, it's played up for humor like Nimona is almost overreacting, then having Bal take care of her because he does care about her. This shows it as a bit silly, but so very meaningful.

Then you have the movie where Balister is freaking out and it's kind of funny because clearly Nimona is relatively fine about it, so he doesn't really need to make a big deal out of it. Then he helps her and is still very careful about it like with anyone else's arrow wound, and asks her questions so he can better understand them. Again so very important.

I love both versions of these scenes, I just am so curious about why they made such a drastic change.

I love this movie so freaking much. (I knew that already, but it bears saying for the thousandth time. It's just so fucking good.)

For this last one:

TW: mention of police brutality (discussed as a theme in the movie, nothing specific outside of the Nimona movie)

"He's got a weapon." It's not a weapon. It's a phone. But Todd (and who knows how many of the other knights) didn't choose to see it as anything other than what the director told him it was, and destroyed it as he was trained to do. This screams messaging about the stupid, dangerous, and harmful actions of too many police officers who don't check the situation for themselves before acting on "information" they gathered from insufficient data and/or unreliable sources, and combine that with profiling to make decisions that so often end up being harmful and even fatal to others.

[guiltycorp]

mmm im sort of glad they released arcane survivor jayce skin voicelines in league before act 3 drops because my expectations for it were rising a bit too much lmao... before it i almost convinced myself that yeah, viktor's character arc will lead him to manipulate jayce into transferring his soul to a new mechanical body + focus on a new strategy for 'healing' societal issues that isn't 100% evil and bad (while still having its drawbacks re: will and consent) and fighting noxians would place the zaun side in a better position to bargain with piltover for equal rights and a stop to exploitation (with an open ending sure but still), or even a straightforward revolution with zaun getting its independence through a violent protest that piltover wouldn't be able to curb due to being stretched too thin

but uhm.... all of this looks kinda... sigh

i really doubt they'll have the time in the remaining 3 episodes to develop both his and Viktor's motivations to fit those new ideas, feels like more of the same 'it all happened off-screen, trust that it makes sense' journey saying that Viktor is 'still worth saving' feels especially yucky all things considered, like pls stop trying to save that man and let him act and choose for himself for once in this season maybe? never thought i'd miss the times when Viktor was doing unsafe experiments, getting illegal drugs from evil mentors and accidentally fridging random female assistants, but mmm that sure didn't get a proper continuation for him did it... just like with Caitlyn, or even Mel or Jinx, we just can't seem to get a proper development for the obviously Questionable things the characters choose to do, it's all kind of swept under the rug or cancelled out by magic interference i guess, or they changed their mind off-screen so it's fine now now that i think about it, Jayce is the only one who was allowed to somewhat grow and change organically, and yet this arcane adventure of his might end up ruining even that... well maybe Vi too but she didn't have a concrete focus this season, just more of the same 'should i reconnect with my sister/father or kill them off for good' and lesbian angst (if she still goes back to enforcers after this i just... fml) did Ambessa's warmongering get the best of her or was she cornered by the Black Rose shenanigans with no better way out? did Isha have any purpose aside from giving us false hope that Jinx will get better and have a happy ending? will Mel have any relevance aside from the new magical one and managing her own mother? does Viktor want to 'supersede nature' and get rid of human error element now because of his own character journey or because that's just what Hexcore is leading him to do?... will Caitlyn show that she still doesn't get why Zaun is the way it is or will she also go 'yeahhh i made some mistakes, but now we fight a common enemy yay, and i'll be a bit less strict in the future without making any meaningful changes to the status quo... it was all them foreigners fault' it's just all so... aghhh

and yep now i am expecting that the piltover/zaun conflict is overrr because they have to come together to fight Ambessa and whatever is going wrong with the magic, sighhh social conflict plotlines are a little too spicy for our animated league adaptation i guess... ...this is the only voiceline implication i like and even then i can't help but imagine Viktor the damsel in distress begging Jayce to fix the mistakes they both did instead of like, participating in that himself

bonus points if that promise won't even be to Viktor fghgfhgf