#and then she kept making that same choice

[poguehearted77]

Imagine y’all just had the fight of your lives (maybe over his dumb gun or something equally Rafe), but later when you’re lying on opposite sides of the bed, he reaches out and pulls you close and says somthing cute or annoying idk And then, oh my GOD—it’s slow, emotional, and HOT because making up with Rafe would be next-level intense. please i NEEED😫😩

OH MY GOD YES. SOME SWEET RAFE AND EVEN SWEETER MAKE UP SEX AFTER A HUGE FIGHT. NEED IT.

#2 from my drabble game

smut: penetrative sex, some praise, I love you's, unprotected sex

Rafe is in deep shit.

You know that, he knows that-- hell, even your pet beagle, Poppy knew it. For once, she bolted away the moment the front door opened, and your oh-so-handsome, conniving and deceitful boyfriend walked in instead of running towards him.

Rafe is a dead man walking. How ironic would it be if he were to die at your hands with the very same gun he'd promised you he'd gotten rid of.

His body goes rigid when he sees the weapon in your palm. A nervous gulp falls down his throat as he does his best to stand tall. "Where did you get that?" That's what he asks you, he should've never opened his mouth.

You scoff immediately, carelessly angling it around as your upset mannerisms control your arms. "Get it? You mean where did I find it." He doesn't respond which is a wise choice.

"Mr. Montogommery called me earlier, he was looking for you--said you weren't answering your phone. He asked me to leave you a message," You're pacing now, and it made Rafe nervous. You're a little crazy, but so was he. It's why you went so well together.

"Like the good girlfriend I am, I opened your office drawer for a sticky note to leave on your desk, but what did I find? The same gun you told me would never be back in the house, Rafe are you serious?!" Your arms are flailing and he's half-certain he'll catch a stray by the end of the conversation.

He steps towards you with his hands up cautiously, "Baby, give me the gun, and we can talk about this." You snap, "No! Why should I? You don't trust me with it? Why because it's dangerous? Because it could kill you! You're right, Rafe. Why didn't I think of that sooner--oh wait, I did! And you fucking lied to me, Rafe."

Your voice is enraged and bouncing off the ivory-panelled walls of the house but it dies down to a shaky one as tears threaten to spill over the brims of your eyes. "Y/n-" He holds his hand out for you, but you give him the gun instead.

You execute a sharp pivot on the tips of your toes, ready to walk away from him but he finally speaks up and you stop--not turning around, standing still, anticipating. "I'm not getting rid of the gun." It's all he says.

Had you been in the mood, you would've turned around, lounged at him and strangled him, but no, you just kept walking.

Your bedroom is freezing that night, despite it being the middle of summer, and it only gets colder everytime you glance towards Rafe as he gets ready for the bed you begrudgingly shared.

Your expression remains sour, even in your sleep, no matter how far away from your boyfriend you are. There's enough room to fit a full-grown adult between you. The isolation was holding the production of your melatonin hostage, forcing you both to lay awake, backs facing each other but hearts reaching out.

Rafe flips onto his side, staring longingly at the back of your frame. He missed you and you were right in front of him. "Baby," His voice is soft, and the pet name lands on you gently, a testament that your anger has subsided a bit.

You turn over, choosing to lie on your back and face the ceiling. You deem that he's undeserving to see your face at the moment. "I've got another gun in my nightstand." You blamed your miscomprehension on the late hours of the night because surely he did not just say what you think he said.

Rafe can see the way your chest began to rise and fall at a much more shallow pace, he had about five seconds to start explaining before you turned on him. "I told you about my past. I've done some bad things. 'Burying the hatchet' doesn't exist for everyone, and I want to be prepared for anything. When I look at a gun now, it's not a weapon anymore, it's a tool. It's protection."

Your breathing slowed, a little. He takes it as a good sign. "I can't lose you. If something happened to you when I could've prevented it, I'd never forgive myself, and I know you know that." He's right. You did know that. He dedicated his life to you, making sure that you knew that. "I shouldn't have lied about getting rid of it, and I'm sorry."

Your breathing returns to its normal pace. You lay on your side, now facing him. "Fine." Rafe scoots closer to you, a small grin working its way on his lips. "Fine?" You nod, "Yeah, fine. I forgive you, this time, but don't you ever pull some shit like this again or so help me god I will-" He quiets you with a sweet kiss.

Well, it started sweet at least.

Now you're both watching him slide in. Your warm cunt wrapped around his length delightfully. "You're fuckin' perfect, too good f'me." He groans into your ear. His muscular arms cage you in, and you've decided you'd be more than happy to die between them.

Your soft moans bounced off his brawny chest and right back in your face, "Feels so good, Rafe-" Yougaspedp as he picked up the pace, hips rolling into yours for a much deeper angle. Your back arches off the bed slightly as sweat rolls down your back and sticks to the sheets.

It wasn't long before you were both chasing your highs. Rafe always sounded so fucking hot when he was close, his deep groans pitching up to breathless whines when you purposefully clenched around him, threatening him to fill you up unrestrained. Once you came, he pulled out and finished on your heaving stomach, catching your breath.

He doesn't get off of you just yet. He balances himself on one forearm as the other hand comes up to gently move the strands of hair from your face, "I love you," he means it, his eyes say it when his mouth does. "I love you".

[chronicsyd]

I'm gonna be so serious, y'all are remembering POWDER and Ekko and not JINX and Ekko when screaming about how much you "wanted Timebomb endgame over Caitvi"

shoving JINX in a relationship with her current mental state is not a good writing choice whatsoever, because Ekko literally had to keep rewinding time because she kept trying to kill herself. If Anything, That relationship would be rushed and fanservice because they would have jumped the gun in 2 episodes vs the 2 seasons it took for Caitvi and showing their ups and downs throughout their whole relationship.

The alternate universe works because Powder doesn't become Jinx and the two don't separate, unlike this universe where the two have been at odds for 7 years and almost kill each other back in Ep 7 of S1.

"But Cait never said sorry!" she didn't really have to, because Vi never stopped being in love with the girl that she Knows Cait is at heart, the Cocktail Molotov scene in Act 2 makes that VERY apparent. Cait saying that she was waiting for Vi to recover to address Jinx is the start of it because Act 1 Cait wouldn't have even Considered doing that, because she was so gung-ho about putting a bullet into Jinx that she Demanded Vi move out of the way for her to do so. She holds herself accountable with the mistakes she's made ("We can't erase our mistakes. None of us." that wasn't just a line targeted at Jinx to prove a point, there's deeper meaning behind it), and moving the guards out of the cell proving that she trusts Vi and her judgment on Jinx is that apology, Caitlyn has always been an "acts of service" kinda person over being a "verbal" kinda person; it's all over the place in S1 but Especially here in S2. But even after she takes Vi's shirt off, you could tell by her eyes and body language that she was most likely going to stop herself again to apologize for hitting her because the wound was in the same spot she initially hit, which was part of the lead up for This wound to even happen, but Vi's the one that just pulls her back in instead.

I'm also gonna add on that Vi thinks she made the wrong choice in trusting Jinx and thinking Jinx's changed because Jinx locked her in the cell and ran away again. So why in the Hell would Vi go chasing after her Again to be met with the same result time and time again? Vi isn't responsible for Jinx's mental health and y'all saying that are just weird. And I think it's apparent that Stillwater probably wasn't even in the top 10 things in her head being with Caitlyn, she was just running wild on emotions that she hasn't allowed herself to feel like-- Ever. And even if it Was Vi probably would have said she wasn't comfortable being in a jail cell of all places.

What was I talking about? Oh right, Timebomb.

Like Yes, it's shitty that Ekko doesn't get a happy ending considering he's the most unproblematic in the entire show. But people tend to forget that at the end of the day, Arcane is a TRADGEDY. It's not She-ra, it's not The Owl House, it wasn't going to be wrapped up in a neat little bow where everyone gets to smile and walk into the sunset with their loved ones, especially considering the fact that this season's being used as build ups to other stories, it's relatively clear that this isn't the last we're going to see of a lot of these characters. When they come back into play? well... who's to say?

But also, let's address that a lot of the Caitvi hate is just straight up homophobia at this point because a lot of people can understand Mel's admission to manipulating Jayce as an apology but Cait's actions we're suddenly braindead and need shit completely spelled out. like good lord I'm so tired of this. Y'all would NEVER have survived Catradora let me tell ya...

(My next post is gonna be a long winded rant about Maddie so stay tuned for that...)

[iasirene]

TW: Sexual assault

Some of yall need to learn how to engage critically with media. There’s some artists getting a lot of hate within the mouthwashing fandom for drawing AU’s where Anya keeps the baby. While I can completely understand not liking this ending (I don’t personally like it either), this is something that is very complex and should be treated with understanding. The whole point of Anya’s story is that she doesn’t have choice, it is taken from her. Throughout the game she is constantly berated by Jimmy and not taken seriously. Curly didn’t do enough to protect her and now Anya has to take care of him while Jimmy is getting more and more delusional and dangerous. She’s stuck. Victims of sexual assault are often shamed for not behaving “appropriately”- or not aligning with the predisposed stereotypes people have in their minds. There are victims of SA who choose to keep their children, and their reasons are their own, and purely their own. It is not up to anybody to project their own beliefs on a person that makes that choice for themselves, same with choosing not to keep a child. We don’t know what Anya would have done, we see her only through the eyes of her abuser and the man who didn’t do enough. I don’t think people are “bad” for wanting to explore if Anya kept her baby- same as I don’t think people are “bad” for wanting her to abort it. If yall don’t like something u see, just block the person and move on.

[inquisimer]

Loving the rook and viago dynamic, chefs kiss 🤌.

If your taking requests, I love the idea of rook slowly becoming more angry or snappy after the regret prison. Thought the "I've been taking care of myself for a long time and don't need your help" prompt would be perfect for an angry rook to their bro. viago

YESSSS I love them so much, Crow Dad makes me [screeches unintelligibly]. And yes, I always take prompts, thank you for this one!! It had me looking at Arlow & Viago's relationship through a different lens, which was great 💜

Arlow de Riva & Viago de Riva | 680 words | endgame spoilers, referenced major character death

-

Arlow’s fingers slipped against her armor’s leather straps again and she huffed, frustrated. It was a buckle, it shouldn’t be so damn hard—

“Need a hand?”

She stiffened, fist clenching around the strap instead. “No. I’ve got it.”

Viago stepped into the meditation chamber anyway, the door shutting with a deafening click behind him. The blackout curtains over the windows kept the room dark, save for a few clusters of candles that flickered over the sharp, familiar planes of his face. Arlow stared pointedly down, cursing under her breath when the strap slipped from her grasp again.

“Yes, clearly,” Viago said dryly. He leaned against the buffet at the back of her couch and folded his arms. “The offer stands, if at any point you’d like to be less stubborn about it.”

Arlow ignored him. She wasn’t going to tell him that dregs of Solas’ Fade prison lingered on her, a numbness in her fingers and toes, a persistent chill that no fire or blanket could ward off, an unmistakable sense of being watched and judged and found wanting. He didn’t get to kick her out of the nest and expect things to be the same once she’d found her wings; she’d gotten this far and she would get through this, too.

Her fingers slipped once more. “Cazza,” she muttered.

“Arlow—“

“No, Viago,” she snapped. “I just need to—“ She pinched the strap between her nails this time and pulled it through the buckle. It left a little half-moon indentation in the purple leather, but it was fastened and it would fade. Much like she assumed the bitter coating on her teeth when she looked at Viago would fade… eventually.

She knew he was proud of her. She knew that he cared, in that closed-off, brusque way of his. But her heart was only getting about two-thirds of the way to letting him back in, because Solas’ trap finally had her dwelling on the way this contract started.

If Viago were caught in a prison of his own regrets, would he see her, leaving with Varric? She’d told Lucanis that she knew he didn’t have a choice, with the other Talons out for blood. And she did believe that. But the job had finally scraped her too raw for that to be anything other than a cold comfort.

He could have saved her. And someone else might have tripped into Varric’s crosshairs—someone who might have saved him. And Davrin. And Bellara.

Guilt and regret crept up her throat. They curled around her neck and trailed after her like a smoky shadow she just couldn’t shake. So she clung to the anger instead and let it shield her from the breakdown they threatened.

“Did you need something?” she asked, pulling on her gloves and flexing her fingers. “I should go check on my team.”

“Look at me.” His stern, quiet voice brokered no argument; it never had. Reluctantly, Arlow put the wardrobe at her back and did as he ordered. Her eyes were steely and the hard line of her jaw invited no comfort—not that she expected he would have offered, anyway.

His own expression was as inscrutable as always, almost foreboding in the odd shadows cast by the half-melted candles. For a moment, Arlow had the sense of how everyone else must see the Fifth Talon—terse, unyielding, the quiet threat of an expert assassin without any of the care that she was accustomed to.

It almost chilled her enough to make her relent. Almost—but her hands were still numb, and her heart still hurt. She still needed the anger, or she was going to get someone else killed.

“No, I—“ Viago cleared his throat. “No. You should go.”

Before we say something we both regret, Arlow thought. She knew what it would be for her. As he glanced away—he never looked away first—she wondered what he was afraid of letting slip. And she wondered, as she gave him her back, if he, too, felt the painful echo of watching her walk away.

She left.

[saintsenara]

Do you think there is parallel between Peter and ron.

Fandom does Peter wrong. That is a fact. He is either absent or is present just for comic relief or is pure evil. But all those characterisation are simply cartoonish. As if written by a person who is living in la la land...

Peter, just like Lupin, we only know major things about him. But like not many people see lupin as a gray shade character only a kind fluffy guy, Peter is polarised to the bad one....

Ron similarly is often given the last place if how much of a good friend each person in golden trio was to be questioned. And that is a tragedy in itself because atleast for Ron we have so much material...

Infact for me, Ron will always be a person who has bigger heart than jkr's favorite mary sue-Lily Evans. She did what any good mother should do. But fandom never stops going on and on about it Or even Harry's sacrifice at the end is so much singed about...but then we have Ron, an 11 year kid who for the sake of defeating voldy, told his new Friends to leave him. He sacrificed himself at 11. Everyone was sure that he is risking his life...but no one i see ever gushes about that act of bravery. It is always about one Potter Or the other.

Peter too. I mean he won't have been friends with the other three for 10 years if they just tolerated him and vice versa. But making him evil kr stupid kr dumb Or hideous to look at in his childhood or teen years is like taking all his personality away and giving us just a shell of a person...

He did become animagi at 15 and that is quite a commendable magic. He is cunning to pull up his stunt as a spy....

Like war as sirius describes in gof is so dark and scary. And people forgot that big things make a person change.

Ron on the other hand had done quite a lot in his life time but often he is found to be judged for leaving his friends.

I believe that the only difference between them is that ron recognised his faults and made correction. Meanwhile pettigrew simply kept on walking on the wrong path he chose....

What do you think on this..?

thank you very much for the ask, pal!

i don't think this entirely works. ron gets cast by the fandom as a gluttonous moron who's also a bad friend primarily on account of the films - and as a bad person by people who want to ship hermione with other people but don't have the nerve to do this in a complex or interesting way - but the text never suggests that either harry or hermione think of him as being in last place in the trio.

indeed, when harry does think of himself as better than ron - when ron gets made a prefect over him in order of the phoenix - he feels horrible for his brief flash of jealousy and soon gets over it. on other occasions when he notes something about himself which could be seen as superior to ron - when he notes that ron got no outstandings at owl, for example - harry doesn't actually force a comparison which is designed to position ron below him. they end up doing the same newts, which is what harry - who sees ron as his partner in crime - cares about.

ron is also demonstrably harry's best friend, and harry tends to enable him and automatically side with him in conflict - it's an example of great self-growth that he doesn't cut hermione off in half-blood prince when ron does, since he's perfectly happy to do so in prisoner of azkaban. but he's also demonstrably hermione's best friend too. harry's relationship with her is, as he says, sibling-like, which doesn't just mean that it's not romantic, but that it contains a "you can't choose your family" vibe - he loves her fiercely, but he also finds her exasperating in a way ron doesn't, doesn't make any real effort to learn about her interests or include her in his, and is often quite harsh to her. ron - in contrast - does see his relationship with her as one of active choice.

this is why i never really like the idea that the trio and the marauders are meant to be parallels. on the surface, ron and harry should be the equivalent of james and sirius and hermione should be remus...

but they're not, because the clear dynamic of the marauders in canon is that they were a group centred around james. all three of sirius, remus, and peter clearly understood james as their best friend, and their relationships among themselves primarily depend on their understanding of their and the others' relationship to james. there is - i think - a credible case to be made that, if james was removed from the picture entirely, but not in a way that caused the profound trauma of the canon timeline [if he just moved away with lily, for example], the remaining three would drift apart.

james - of course - only understood sirius as his equal, his brother. peter is obviously someone he considered inferior to the two of them - albeit in a fond way, rather than a cruel one. he clearly thinks of him the way a teenager might think of their pre-teen sibling - someone you love and are happy to include in your social life if they do what you want, someone you also don't want to embarrass you in front of your cool teenage friends by letting them do what they want instead of following your instructions. remus is clearly someone he didn't think of as quite so socially inferior to him, but he also still seems to have understood him as peripheral to his and sirius' rampant codependence.

the trio doesn't have anything like this dynamic. even though harry is narratively unequal to ron and hermione - he is their leader, they are his disciples - the relationships across the three of them [harry's active choice to be friends with ron, harry's feeling that hermione is his sister; ron's active choice to be friends with hermione, his pseudo-familial relationship with harry] are much more equal than those among the marauders.

what i have been convinced by, however, is @whinlatter's belief that the best parallel for peter in the series is ginny:

[thanakite]

I wonder if raising/taking care of Isha made Jinx realize that even if Silco cared about her he still also manipulated her into fitting his own ideals?

Like it's very clear how much she cares for Isha and that Isha cares for her in turn and the show makes it pretty clear that Jinx is never pushing Isha to be like her, that, that is Isha's choice 100% and that while Jinx has her way of doing things she's also not pushing her to take revenge on people or anything like that, instead she's really more trying to get them to hole up and hide away together

Comparing that with Silco who convinced her to need revenge when she was vulnerable, who regularly preached to her that Vander (the man who took in her and her sister and raised them after their parents were killed by enforcers and did everything in his power to keep them safe while giving them a good a life as he could given the circumstances) wasn't who she thought he was, and who pushed her down the most dangerous path forward (like really, Jinx didn't have to be someone in the field doing things she could have been their inventor, someone he kept safe and protected behind the scenes and who provided them with weapons and such but wasn't expected to actually get her hands dirty or do dangerous things, but instead he set her up to be front and center, to potentially get caught and sent to Stillwater or killed or whatever, when that wasn't necessary to make her a vital member of his organization, and in fact it would have made her more valued and respected if he had done that since her acting in the field often caused people to look at her as a fuck up)

Really, I think that for all Silco cared for her (and he did care for her in his own way), what he really wanted from her was to be a face for their organization because it showed people his own skill/power. People who remembered Powder and remembered Vander and Vi and Claggor and Mylo would see her and would see that Silco could take a kind and smart girl from a family that cared deeply for her and turn her into a murdering menace, which in turn kept specific eyes off of him (Because while some people knew that Jinx was connected to Silco, aside from those in Piltover who worked for him, Piltover didn't really know that for a long time so to them it was just her)

And really, while the show doesn't make it clear if Jinx was doing similar work before the Progress Day stuff, it is clear that Silco wasn't actually fully utilizing her talents (I honestly wonder if he feared that by doing that she'd become more popular and more powerful than him), because if he had been, his people would have been set up with weapons designed by her and would have likely been using other things she could have invented during that time as well, because all things considered, she is smart and capable and able to create some amazing stuff, while at the same time it is clear that her talents weren't even honed correctly

Like really, she could have been working with Singed to develop her skills more and hone them into ruthless destruction and such, but there is such clear evidence that her childish nature is present in the weapons of hers we are shown that it is clear that she wasn't really given that kind of training (Because even if she did like that stuff a lot, time training under someone like Singed or even just time being encouraged to make things for the cause would have seen at least some of that stuff fade away a bit, if ONLY because it wouldn't be logical to take the time to paint on that kind of stuff if she was having to outfit a lot of people)

And in raising/taking care of Isha, while Jinx was obviously not perfect and was never going to be and while she didn't push Isha away from violence (which likely would have been difficult anyway) it's also fairly clear that she wasn't constantly pushing her towards violence either

She didn't tell Isha to go to the rally in her place, she actually didn't even know she had gone in the first place, she didn't tell her to attack the checkpoint, Isha did that on her own and Jinx wasn't exactly happy about it when she found out

And that is very different from Silco sending her to "take care" of the Firelights, even if she was older than Isha when that happened

Did Isha make Jinx see that while Silco took her in and raised her, he also had an agenda that ensured she further screwed up her life?

[gothamite-rambler]

"I'm your mother, but you died where I'm from." (Dimensional Crossroads)

Bruce discovers that the Batwoman from another world is, in fact, his mother. As the characters interact, they will refer to each other by their hero names, but I’ll stick to their real names in the tags.

Batwoman, Batman, and his family made their way back to the Batcave. While Batwoman was eager to focus on the unusual portals opening across various dimensions, her thoughts kept wandering back to the possibility of seeing her son’s face again.

As Batwoman admired the impressive sights of the Batcave, she was particularly fascinated by the eclectic collection of memorabilia that her son had accumulated during his time as Gotham's protector.

Martha (marveling): My word, this place is spectacular! I love that dinosaur statue.

Bruce (his eyebrow raised, unsure why she was focused on his batcave if she had her own): Um, thanks, but we can’t waste—

Martha (excitedly as she pointed at the giant one cent coin): That giant penny is amazing! In my world, I encountered a giant dime once. A criminal used it to sneak into a bank—it was a total Trojan horse situation. Where did you get this giant penny?

Bruce (exasperated): The crook used it for something similar, but during the chaos, it tipped over and crushed him. Can we—

Martha gave a hoity-toity giggle , eager to talk about her son’s life, even though they both knew they should be concentrating on the portals. She reached out and patted him on the back, leaving Batman momentarily confused, unaware that the woman before him was, in fact, his mother. She had acted like this since meeting him and it felt comforting, but odd as well.

Martha: It’s nice... cool, as the kids say. This hideout of yours is grandiose and well-insulated with air conditioning. I can't help but look around at what you've collected over the... decades of your life! I find your weapon of choice amazing too. I swiped one from your belt while you were distracted.

She held up the sleek black batarang; Batman tilted his head, trying to mask his shock.

Martha (admiring the weapon): This is well-made. Pointed edge, not too heavy—let’s see how it fares when thrown.

With a casual flick of her wrist, she sent the batarang soaring through the Batcave, striking a training dummy with remarkable precision.

Martha (clapping softly): Perfect aim! I still got it.

She laughed softly, sharing a glance with Batman, who was taken aback. There was an uncanny familiarity in her demeanor that stirred something deep within him.

Bruce (down playing the feat): That… was actually a good throw. Batwoman, was it?

Martha (nodding): Indeed.

Bruce (crossing his arms): Hm… I wasn’t sure if I could trust you, especially after you pulled out two guns—which I assume you took from my belt—but your composure when the portals opened is… admirable.

Martha clasped her hands and brought them to her lips with a charming smile. Bruce looked around, puzzled.

Bruce (taking a step back): Why do you keep looking at me like that? You’ve been doing it since we left town, and it’s creeping me out which is saying a lot.

Martha (feigning innocence): No reason! Um, but yes, you mentioned my gun.

Batwoman produced the weapon from her utility belt, a warm smile on her face.

Martha: I have many weapons I use to fight with, non-lethal ones. Not the batarang, might have to make one when I get back though. I'm not trigger happy or anything. I took a gun training course in Gotham in my middle age. I'm licensed! Want to hold it?

Batman snatched the gun away and placed it on his desk.

Bruce (firm, but tired): While you're here, I will kindly request you stop waving that around? I already have to deal with one of my sons using guns.

Martha covered her mouth, embarrassed, realizing that this version of her son likely lost his parents the same way she had lost hers.

Martha: My mistake. I can take a pause from using it, I'm trained in many methods of fighting for a reason although karate was a chore when I first signed up. Funny that out of the ones I learned that left me winded.

Bruce nodded, crossing his arms once more. He felt uncertain about trusting the woman; he knew she could easily swipe the gun again, but his curiosity about why she had it lingered.

Bruce (bluntly asking): Batwoman, I'm going to ask you something personal, but I don't mean to be malicious. If you’re a protector of Gotham like I am, why do you use a gun? I thought you would follow the same rule as I do.

Martha (smiling plaintively as her hands fiddled together): Let me share part of my story. I spent years training to become Gotham's protector. You didn’t think I would be inept at swiping things from unsuspecting people, did you?

She laughed again, a somewhat forced laugh, as she slapped Bruce on the arm. He shook his head, a small smile breaking through.

Martha: Although, to be fair, one of my Doves wants... nothing to do with them.

Bruce: Dove?

Martha: Yes, that’s what I call them, all my little Doves. I debated on that, blue jay, owls-

Bruce (knowing smile): I'm kind of glad you didn't choose owls, I dealt with a crazy version of myself that was owl themed once.

Martha (warmly): Lucky me... I love my doves dearly as if they were my first born child. I loved telling them stories about h- them. That's their sibling they never got to meet, you know? Anyways, I don’t shoot criminals willy-nilly, but I'm a woman of a certain age and I need protection, such as this.

Bruce: How old are you?

Martha (sternly): Never ask a woman her age; it's rude. Got it?

Bruce (surprised when speaking): Oh, sorry… did I just apologize?

Martha (playfully): You could say I have that motherly charm. Oh, how I wish my child could’ve fought alongside me.

Batwoman's expression softened at the thought of her son. She looked away from Bruce, a moment of contemplation settling between them.

Martha (contemplative speaking): You know, I was married once, too. He was an incredible man. We met at a gala—our parents probably set us up, but it felt fated. Hm… Are you married?

Bruce (firmly): No.

Martha (curious): Hm, how many kids do you have?

Bruce (defensively): I’m not comfortable answering that… I’d prefer to focus on the portals—

Martha (interrupting): One step at a time, kid. We’ve both dealt with worse. I wanted to know you a bit more while I still can. I had a biological son; you remind me so much of who he could’ve been. May he and his father rest in peace. But I’ve also adopted a few kids. They’re wonderful.

Batwoman chuckled, shaking her head gently.

Martha (hands on her hips): Kids… Silly to say when they’re all adults, but even when one is gone, you should never truly stop living or saving others. You know?

Bruce (sympathizing): I… see what you mean.

She patted him on the shoulder before walking past him again, taking in the vastness of the Batcave once more.

Martha (candidly): I want to savor this moment with you, but I've held off on this long enough.

Turning to face the Caped Crusader, she walked closer but kept a respectful distance, unable to read his expression.

Martha (tentatively): I hope I’m not mistaken, but you’re Bruce Wayne, son of Martha and Thomas Wayne, and I’m guessing in this world, we are the ones who died in that alley.

Batman's eyes widened, but he clamped down on his emotions.

Bruce (stammering): I—Alley—We’re?

Martha smiled gently and removed her mask, revealing a woman of mature age who bore an uncanny resemblance to Bruce’s mother.

Martha (calmly, as she could muster): I’m Martha Wayne. The night after we left the movies, my family and I went down that alley. A coward tried to rob us, brandishing a gun and shouting, “Give me the money!” My husband, may he rest in peace, wasn’t about to let us be harmed. He fought back, but the gun went off accidentally. He wasn’t hit… I wasn’t hit, but…

Martha took a deep breath, to steady her emotions as she recounted the past.

Martha (clenching her fists): He killed our son. The gun went off again. My husband grabbed the gun and then collapsed—the love of my life, shot. But it wasn’t just the gun that killed him; it was the thief who turned his evil eyes on me. The gun wasn’t in his hands, but in that moment, I laid my son gently on the ground, seized the weapon with my bloodied hands, pulled the trigger, and he died. That night, I watched my family vanish before my eyes. I couldn’t save them in time. And that was the first time I killed someone.

Batman remained silent, grappling with the weight of her words.

Martha (heavy-hearted): You can imagine how that weighed on me. I had to put on a brave face, even as a widow who lost her only child. I spent 16 years honing my skills to be the best hero Gotham has ever seen. It wasn’t easy; many dismissed me as just a rich woman. They thought I should have written a cookbook, married another wealthy man I wouldn't love, and just been miserable… And yes, I’m still depressed, but I refused to play the part of a conventional wife with some stranger. Thomas was the only one who truly understood me.

Bruce (achingly): Oh God, you said his name again.

Martha (understandingly): It's a shock, isn’t it? When I first became Batwoman, I was ruthless. I beat them down, broke a few kneecaps, but my first Dove helped me temper my rage. You’ll like her; she’s your cousin.

Bruce (slightly gasping): Kate?

Batman gasped at the slip, confirming for Martha that this was indeed Bruce Wayne. She smiled widely, clasping her hands.

Martha: Does this mean I’m right? You’re really him? You’re my baby boy? Well… I suppose “baby boy” feels a bit silly now.

Bruce (denying, incredulous): I… No, this can’t be real. My real mother wouldn’t use a gun.

Martha (keeping her composure): To be fair, you died in my arms, and I watched your father take his last breath that night too. It seems we chose different paths in weapon handling. I understand your apprehensions about it; surprisingly, I haven’t killed many. Although I understand you being bothered by that. My second Dove, now going by Batgirl, believes prison can manage most of them.

Batman anxiously took a few cautious steps back, anxiety bubbling to the surface.

Martha (calmly, reassuring tone): Hey, it’s okay. I get that this is overwhelming. But I can prove that I'm Martha Wayne, and I won’t hurt you. You love dinosaurs, you had a red tricycle you adored riding around the house, your favorite cake was either red velvet or chocolate, and you idolized heroes like Zorro and Sherlock Holmes. Your father would—

Batman (shakily): Read me Sherlock Holmes books in his study… Mom?

Martha nodded and pulled a second red and black gun out of her belt, gently placing the earlier gun on the ground to signal she meant no harm.

Martha (her heart racing): If you are Bruce Wayne… I want to spend these fleeting moments fighting crime and fixing these portals with my son. I understand I have to return to my world… I know you’re not the version of my son I lost, but I want to be with you for this time. I promise I won’t shoot anyone and will respect your rules while I’m here.

A poignant silence filled the air as they both held their breath, the tension palpable. Batman stared, wrestling with his emotions before finally pulling off his mask, tears threatening to spill.

Bruce (tenderly): Hi, Mom.

Martha (softly): Hi, baby.

Martha rushed over and enveloped her son in a tight embrace—a warmth they both longed for since losing their families in different worlds. Their moment of reconnection was suddenly interrupted by Alfred and Selina entering the Batcave.

Selina (confused): Um… what did we just walk into?

Martha (terrified): Monster!

Martha quickly pulled out another gun, instinctively pushing Bruce behind her and aiming the weapon at Selina, sending alarm bells ringing throughout the cave.

Bruce (surprised and back to being annoyed): Why do you have so many guns?

Martha (speaking quickly): Rule of three; this is my last one. Promise. Stay behind Mama!

Alfred (dropping his tray, shocked): Mama?

Bruce (explaining while slightly amused): Um… there's a world where my father and I died, and she survived and firmly believes in the Second Amendment. She's alive and next to me! Look at how pretty she is.

Martha (grinning while maintaining her motherly tone): Good explanation, Bruce and thank you.

Bruce held his head, a smile on his lips, though he was unsure of what to do next. Selina shot a worried glance at Alfred, her expression filled with uncertainty, but he simply shrugged, clutching the tray against his chest like a shield.

When Martha's hand remained steady while she kept the gun aimed at Selina, the latter instinctively raised her hands, a surge of fear washing over her.

Meanwhile, Bruce attempted to reason with his mother, his voice betraying a slight tremor. The whole situation felt surreal. He didn’t want his mother to shoot his girlfriend, but this was his mom! It was a perplexing dilemma for a man who wasn’t the one facing the gun.

To be continued...

Parts so far:

Dimensional Crossroads (Martha)

Dimensional Crossroads pt 2

Inspired by a fanfic where Jason from the current canon and a version from a timeline he survived switched places

Meanwhile with canon Jason Todd in the alternate world

[rosie-kairi]

*Knocks on ask door* can I offer you some Lauriam angst? Or rather Marluxia?

So let's ignore that he sees Xion as Sora because that doesn't make sense. Instead we're really going to fuck with his head.

So sometimes he walks into the castle lounge and there's Roxas and Xion but sometimes he does a double take because he's looking at two Roxas. Except one is smaller, younger looking, and it's suddenly hard to breathe and why does he feel like falling to his knees and apologizing profusely?

He never says it out loud but he hates being around Zexion alone. There's something about him when he's holding a book, and his hair falls right over his eye and his jacket that is painfully familiar. The feeling of begging for forgiveness returns and if he looks him in the eye too long he has to get out of the room asap.

Some days when he's with Xion she thankfully doesn't look like a mini Roxas. But she insisted looks like a different girl with long black hair and kind brown eyes. Why does he feel like he's drowning? It's like stabbing pain if he's alone with her like this and he can't get away fast enough.

Repliku is just as bad, looking at him with the hair and eyes something familiar stirs and it's painful because of course it is. Why does looking at him feel like he's unworthy? There's a feeling he promised something big but failed but any further exploration hurts. He's silently glad when the doll is destroyed.

But the worst is on his really bad days and he looks as Xion and sees a totally different girl. She has long orange tails and a white dress. Her concerning gaze sends him literally running and he doesn't question why there are tears. He just runs.

Marluxia doesn't wonder why these phantom pains are there. After all he doesn't have a heart so it doesn't matter it's just bothersome. Until he's dying in the keyblade graveyard and all his memories and emotions fully come back does he understand. If only he made different choices if only he kept his promise. Could things have been different?

There's so much he wants to say to Sora but can't. He hopes his heart can send the message. That for any of them left alive please take care of them for him.

^me when I think about Marluxia in the context of khux.

He's being besieged by spirits of his past and he doesn't even know. He doesn't even know what he's missing because he assumes all the other nobodies feel empty in the same way he does, but he's got like, super-advanced mega empty. Deluxe Emptiness.

Do you think he'd have ptsd if he saw Maleficent again, do you think his body would ache from long-healed injuries at the sight of the dark fairy, do you think he would be mad at seeing her around? like he failed something, but he doesn't know what he failed.

[annemarieyeretzian]

liliana saying she was looking for guidance and met ludinus who “was a teacher. he was a guide. …he helped me learn to control, to ground myself, to feel like maybe there was something, something important, something I was meant to do that could free myself of this burden…” babe,,, you were groomed and recruited by a power-hungry self-serving cult leader and you called that guidance,,, mental fortitude of melting jell-o behavior,,,

[roots-symphony]

do you think the reason agatha’s trial felt weird is because she was the only one who did not actually buy into the mythos of the road since she knew the truth? like that was why no perspective change and all the other reasons why people thought it was a fake trial

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

I know we skirt around and sometimes talk about the ~trauma~ of it all, but I think seeing how loudly Taylor and Travis support each other on main (while still carving out a private life together) really starts to illuminate to an even clearer degree how many of Taylor's choices and actions were a response to all of ~that~ in the last decade or so (and particularly since 2016).

Again, which is not to say it's all bad, and many of them were choices she needed to make at the time for her own health and I'm sure there are some things from the time period she's continued to keep with her, but it's just really striking that she's, like, in full bloom now. And as a lot of people here are saying, she's probably more like herself these days than she'd been in the last decade. It's getting to the point (at least for me) that sometimes I can't even imagine her the way she was in the last few years because she just seems soooooo much more comfortable in her own skin. Which is silly, because that was as much her as the person she is now, she is an amalgamation of all those parts of her (just like any other person is).

But you just see *how much* she just loves so freely -- not just romantically but in everything she does -- and it's even sadder to think about how she felt like she had to slice off all these parts of her and like she had to accept a certain way of living (and being loved) in order to survive and have a life of her own.

I'm just really happy for her that she seems to be healing every passing day and is just embracing everything coming her way.

ok gonna word vomit more in the tags

[edwinisms]

see I can’t accept charles’ comic background and socioeconomic status as canon for the show because if I did that would mean the whole group would be a bunch of rich kids and that’s a horrifying concept

[hephaestuscrew]

Sometimes I think there are certain parts of Wolf 359 that feel so familiar to me that I almost forget what they are like the first time round.

Like, I've just been thinking about how in the finale, after Minkowski gets shot, we don't hear any noise from her all through Cutter's gloating speech. We hear her gasp as the bullet hits and the show immediately cuts away to a different scene. Then when we rejoin the confrontation with Cutter, we don't hear Minkowski make any noise - not even a groan of pain or a laboured breath - for over a minute. And because it's an audio drama, this means that we don't have any direct indication of just how injured she is, of whether she's fully conscious, of whether she's even still alive. Lovelace's reactions can't tell us much while she's struggling against Cutter's control. And I wouldn't put it past Cutter to gloat to someone unconscious.

The first noise we do hear Minkowski make after being shot in the stomach - the first proof we have that she's still with us - is her gathering her strength and declaring "Renée Minkowski... and that is more than enough to kick your ass!", before punching Cutter. Which is always an incredibly powerful moment. But there's a particular power to it when it also serves as the reveal that Minkowski is still conscious and able to put up resistance. The moment when she asserts her ownership of her own identity feels almost like a moment of rising from the potentially-dead.

[jackietaylorsghost]

abby might genuinely be one of the most poorly written sympathetic/grey characters ive ever encountered im forever thinking about how they tried to make her some sort of parallel to joel, an actual well written sympathetic/grey character, and fucked it up so badly

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

“You did not live in a house of horrors. I was raised to believe in hellfire; now that was bad!” Okay and impending global genocide of any culture that disagrees with your beliefs isn’t? Being raised mentally preparing to withstand torture at the hands of police in a “do it to Julia” situation isn’t? Being socially isolated from your peers on the grounds that they’re evil uneducated dumb worldly heathens controlled by Satan isn’t a bad thing? No. Those are all good things which every child should be taught in order to experience “the real life.”

The legitimate truth is that we are all in “the real life” right now and in “the real life,” the Governing Body is doing the very best they can to cover up the fact that they’re a cult by relaxing the cult’s rules in a futile attempt to prevent the prosecution in the numerous ONGOING child sexual abuse cases from handing their non-tight-pants-wearing asses to them. And the other legitimate truth is discovering this fact to be the legitimate truth while having to navigate a sea of lies and high school is extremely traumatizing, especially when you feel the need to take a hard stance against the cult to prevent others’ children — children like you — from befalling the same fate by dressing up as some miserable wretch who cooked and ate children, hoping the way you look and carry yourself and stare into the parents’ eyes will scare them away. And even more traumatizing is that your tactics worked; proving that you are just as bad and scary as your preexisting OCD made you out to be. Yes I did it to myself; but consider the reason why I felt so compelled to sacrifice the entirety of my mental health to sabotage you with what little tools I had. I wouldn’t have done it had I not had a very good reason, and my very good reason was that I was a child who loved children. You were trying to protect me and it was a sacrifice; but I was also trying to protect children. My endeavor is not — and was never — a selfish one. It is not that I don’t care about you; I only prioritize the class which is most oppressed, and you are not a part of it because you are adults. Your feelings, unfortunately, are expendable in my mission to end religious child labor. I will not support your corrupt religion to make you happy when I know what it’s done to others and to myself; it is wrong, and you are wrong for supporting it. I, as a paraprofessional, refuse to support a religion which hides the sexual abuse of children for its own gain. By law I am now a mandatory reporter; I must report child abuse when I see it under penalty of law. Therefore it stands to reason that I must report your cult from the top of every mountain for the entire inhabited earth to hear so they may not even take so much as one step in your direction. I am sorry if I seem like I hate you; if the fact that I reject your ideals of theological expectational fascism disturbs you so much, then maybe you need to re-evaluate your choices.

“Your actions affect others.” I know my actions affect others; I know how they affect others as well. You’re crushed and demoralized and suffering physically from all the emotional stress; I’ve likely dug you both early graves. I know what I’ve done and I can live with it — Not easily — but I am not defeated because I know I’m in the right, and have always been in the right. No. The real question is: Do you know how your actions are affecting others? In exquisite detail? Have you listened to the victims? Have you allowed yourself to hear both sides of the story with your human ears, not ones made of tin and thought-blocking strategies and “I had it worse than you” excuses? No? Then you’d better start because the key to healing yourself is to aid in the healing of others. We are all connected as one body; and I refuse to be a cancer cell. Sorry I’m aiding in your downfall but it’s got to happen at some point.

[prismatica-the-strange]

Nope, I'm still crying