#i WILL lash out if i see him being mistreated again

[jiyongssi]

im self aware that im extremely biased but idgaf i am already obsessed with his new song for various reasons; first and foremost cause its fucking good and next cause i (with many other VIPs) have waited for this for so long

lets treat jiyong kinder this time and hope the rest of the world does too.

it's a conscious choice he made to come back and feed us with his creativity in music despite having the more comfortable option of staying in fashion lane after all those bullshit he was put through, and that speaks eon

he must be extremely anxious and excited to share with us his new work and ventures and i hope he will be well taken care of

go go #guardiansofdaisy

[mama-qwerty]

Sonic 3 - Shadow

My hopes for Shadow’s portrayal in Sonic 3 were that they’d show him not as the ill-tempered edgelord, but as the grieving, hurt child he truly was. And I was not disappointed.

Sonic 3 spoilers ahead

The movie opens with Shadow in containment, suspended in a holding vat of fluid to keep him under control. He’d been in this suspended status for 50 years, and now he was waking up. As he awoke, his memories flashed of his time at the facility, where he met Maria and developed a close friendship with her.

He woke up and chose violence. All he remembered was losing Maria, and before him stood the same organization that took her from him. The same uniforms, the same aggressive stance. To him, that raid at the facility was still fresh. It happened very, very recently. We’re not privy to the timeline between when the raid happened and when he was put into stasis, but I don’t think it was longer than maybe an hour. If that.

So from his perspective, these could very well be the same people who had raided the facility and murdered his friend. Maybe he thought the raid was still going on. So he was thrust into a fight or flight situation, and did both—take down the enemy, and then retreat to regroup.

Except he found himself in a very different environment than he’d ever experienced. He’d only known the inside of a government facility. Tokyo was bright, and loud, and big, and there were so many people. But GUN wouldn’t leave him be, and he found himself fighting yet again.

And then these three other creatures showed up. Ones who were more like him than any he’d seen before. Especially the blue one, which was strange and confusing. He was the only alien on Earth, wasn’t he? He was different than anything else the scientists had ever seen. But there was another who looked like him? With two other equally strange creatures trying to stop him?

No matter. They were working with GUN, so they were the enemy.

And again, he took them down, and retreated.

Because ultimately, Shadow was dealing with anger, grief, confusion, and pain. He didn't know what to do with all that, because the person who helped him understand himself better was gone. Everything he knew was gone. The people he and Maria had trusted had turned on them, killed Maria, locked him away, and taken Gerald from him. He's lashing out because he doesn't know what else to do. All he's been faced with his entire life was pain and mistreatment, except for Maria, and they killed her.

Shadow has no idea who or what he is. He came from space, but he doesn’t remember anything before that. He’s on this planet with creatures who look nothing like him, being poked and prodded for who knows how long. Being studied and experimented on because he’s different, and has powers no one’s seen before. No one looked upon him with kindness, or reached for him with gentle hands.

Until Maria.

She looked at him and didn’t see an alien. A monster. A creature with unimaginable power.

She saw a lonely little boy. And she reached out to him.

Who knows how long it took him to trust her. When she first found him in his tube, he didn’t seem very interested. He’d likely had scientists of all kinds coming through to gawk at him, to stare at him and pluck his quills and shave some fur and take some blood, all the while never speaking to him. He was just a thing to be studied. An oddity to figure out.

But this girl was different. She would come and talk to him as he floated in his watery prison. Draw on the glass. Maybe she even taught him to speak, and read. And over time, maybe he looked forward to her visits. And she became more bold to sneak him out of the lab when the scientists ran their experiments.

We don’t know Gerald’s relationship with Shadow. The most we see is after Gerald had gone mad from his own grief from losing Maria. Maybe he thought Maria would tame this creature, and allow him to be more successfully controlled for whatever Gerald wanted. Maybe he actually did care about Shadow, at least somewhat, and the raid on the facility—he claimed they were actually after Shadow as he dragged them behind him in an attempt to escape—made him blame Shadow for Maria’s death.

We don’t know.

But when Shadow saw Gerald again at the abandoned facility, he was relieved. Finally a familiar face. Someone he could trust, and ask questions about what was going on, and what their next step should be. And when Gerald corralled Shadow into this quest for vengeance, Shadow went along with it because he trusted Gerald. And it felt right to want to hurt those who’d hurt Maria. It felt productive to turn that anger outward onto the people who deserved it.

Except . . . it didn’t.

Gerald said this was what Maria would have wanted. Shadow wasn’t so sure that was right. But he was still running on pain, and he looked to Gerald for guidance, just as he had looked to Maria for it.

So he did as he was told. Capturing the others when they’d found the facility. Initiating the black hole that swallowed the facility and destroyed all evidence of the torture, the pain, the love and acceptance he’d endured in his time on Earth. Taking every shred of evidence of Maria, and erasing it.

Did it feel good to him in that moment? Having all those reminders of her wiped away?

Or did it just make that ache in his heart worse? Because it was like losing her again. And now it was as if she’d never existed. No roller skates. No guitar. No little tent with the stars and lights casting a warm glow inside.

Just . . . gone.

Just like her.

Focus. He had to focus. Gerald had a plan. And if he said this is what people deserved, then Shadow would believe him.

So he stayed behind as Gerald and the other Robotnik infiltrated GUN. Tried to focus on the bigger picture.

But that nagging little thought remained.

When things went south at GUN, he stepped in, took the key from Walters. It had felt satisfying to deliver a blow to one of the men who’d been there that day, all those years ago.

Only it wasn’t Walters. It was . . . someone else. Someone that blue hedgehog cared about very much. And oh, that brought back painful memories. And that pain he’d felt that day—so long ago but so fresh to him—flared anew, and he’d felt so, so guilty for causing that pain to someone else.

No. That didn’t matter. Whoever this was had been in Shadow’s way. He had a mission to complete. He’d only done what he’d had to.

Aboard the ARK, he continued to question the validity of this plan. But Gerald assured him this was what Maria would have wanted. So he went along with it. Things were moving the way Gerald wanted.

But that ache in his chest refused to go away.

And then a golden something hit him, smashing him out of the ARK, and drawing him into a fight. It was the blue hedgehog, and whatever power flowed through him bled out and merged with the power inside Shadow himself, changing him as well.

And it had felt so good to fight. To unleash his strength upon someone who was hurting as much as he was. Someone who understood his pain, someone who wanted revenge as badly as he did. It was normal to want to hurt the person who’d hurt someone you loved.

Because Shadow was tired of living with the pain. He didn’t understand how he could want to hurt others, to get revenge, but at the same time felt wrong for doing so. But he’d hurt someone the blue hedgehog cared for, and if Shadow could have his revenge, then so could the other hedgehog.

But the blue hedgehog wasn’t fighting as fiercely as he should have been. So Shadow had taunted. He’d poked. He’d pushed and eventually gotten the other hedgehog so angry, Shadow had been taken by surprise.

But that was okay. That’s what he wanted. An eye for an eye. A pain for a pain.

He was tired. He was confused. He was hurt, and guilty, and just wanted to stop seeing her face every time he closed his eyes. Didn’t want to hear her voice in the quiet moments. Feel her hands as they gave a gentle tug on his quills, or massaged his ears after a bad batch of testing.

She had been his safe haven on this planet that seemed to want nothing more than to hurt him.

And now she was gone.

And he didn’t know who he was without her. Didn’t know what he was or where he belonged, if not with her.

So he ordered the other hedgehog to end him. Practically begged him.

But he hadn’t. He’d stopped, a look of almost horror on his face as he’d released Shadow.

And they’d talked. And Shadow had found someone else who understood his pain. Felt it, but didn’t let it consume him. Didn’t let it change him.

And this other hedgehog gave Shadow a chance to decide for himself what he would do. Decide what kind of person he wanted to be.

Because that’s what Maria wanted for Shadow. To discover who he was, and who he wanted to be. To find his own place in the world, to be happy.

And so Shadow chose.

He helped the blue hedgehog save the planet, and used the last of his strength to make sure the ARK was far enough away so the final explosion wouldn’t hurt anyone else.

And in those final moments, he thought of Maria, and kept her love for him in his heart.

He acted not out of pain, or out of revenge or anger.

He acted out of love.

~~~

Check out my other Sonic 3 analysis posts

[inksandpensblog]

Having trouble forming thoughts rn and this is less theory/analysis and more just me following a line of thought to see where it leads but something struck me about how calculated Victim’s violence is.

When Orange is angry, he lashes out in a temper and escalates the conflict. Oddly enough he has the least control over his anger, despite generally being a happy and friendly guy.

When Dark is angry, he goes cold and ruthless. Everything becomes no-nonsense, he stops playing when he’s angry.

Chosen’s anger…I’d almost say it makes him sloppy. It makes him hit hard and fast, but he also swings wide. It focuses him, but it blinds him too. And I think that he’s aware of this tendency somewhat, at least when he’s not in the throes of it but can look at the effect he has from outside. Which might be why I can’t imagine Chosen flying into rages like Orange sometimes does, despite seeing Chosen as a more angry person in general. He’s trying not to be ruled by it. He fights better when he can actually keep his head in the fight and not have his mind clouded by rage.

Near the end of the episode, when Victim seems truly angered for the first time, he shoves Chosen’s head down and fervently insists on going further back through the memories. It’s far from the worst he’s treated Chosen in that box, but…it’s the first time that the mistreatment feels incidental and not necessarily intentional.

Chosen is Just Sitting There by that point, all his avenues of rebellion having been repealed; Victim has him completely at his mercy and is already in the process of taking the info he was after. So it can’t be Chosen that Victim is angry with, in that moment. (Unless you want to argue that he’s angry at Chosen for involving such a powerful stick, but…it’s a bit of a mystery why he’s even angered by the powers reveal, honestly, since he’s still completely dismissive of Orange.)

Victim expressed his anger through violence, against someone whom he felt deserved to feel his anger, like Orange has. His anger made him careless, like Chosen’s anger makes him.

Until then, he might’ve had an underlying anger to his actions in the box, but it was simply fueling him rather than steering him. He never lost sight of what he was after, he was still clear-headed, like Dark’s anger made him.

But it’s still different. Dark’s anger makes him use violence to put an end to things. Victim dragged things out. And I think that’s the difference.

Victim’s anger leads him to cause pain, but causing pain isn’t what he uses violence for.

If that were the case, he would’ve really gone to town on Chosen with the whip. But the whip only actually strikes Chosen once, in the whole episode: it cracks against the floor the first time, then it lashes across his back, and the third time it hits the floor again near his leg as he’s scrambling backward away from Vic.

Victim doesn’t seek to cause pain, in his anger. He seeks to cause fear.

[moronkombat]

okay so I’ve never done this before 😭

but can I request a nsfw work on Tomas being frustrated over how Bi-Han treats him that he sleeps with Bi-Han’s wife who also loves Tomas 👀 like Tomas is so frustrated and Bi-Han’s wife offers him leverage even if it’s cheating on Bi-Han?

decided to take some creative liberties with this prompt and made it into tomas is frustrated with bi-han and decides he's going to take his frustrations out on bi-han's sweet little wife

tw: afab pronouns and anatomy, dub/noncon, breeding kink/pregnancy mention unprotected sex

Tomas had known her since he first came to join the Lin Kuei family. She had been the daughter of a close family friend and someone Tomas had become rather fond of her. She sweet, kind and always very understanding. The very opposite of Bi-Han and yet his eldest brother had been the one to capture her heart. When he saw the two of them embrace each other, Tomas felt as if nothing in the world would ever go right for him.

No matter how hard he tried to win her favor, she always had eyes for the cryomancer. Yes, she and Tomas spent time together but it was never anything more than a cordial and friendly chat between friends. Tomas wanted so much more than just friends. Yet she remained with Bi-Han and when he heard word of their proposal Tomas truly felt lost.

For years he has kept these envies to himself, watching from just the corner of his eye when Bi-Han and her were together. She smiles so sweetly with him. Never did she smile like that around Tomas. Though, this beautiful flower always kind, no matter the occasion. He treats Tomas with grace, respect and care. Did her husband share this trait? No.

Whatever Tomas seemed to do, Bi-Han was critical and disapproving. They do not share blood. They are not brothers. Tomas could never change that, he never could hope to. This day no exception as Tomas had been reminded of his commoner status yet again by his eldest brother. His only option to stand there and listen to this verbal lashing, waiting to be dismissed.

Upon his dismissal, Tomas had sought refuge in one of the dojos. There he stands, hand covering his brow, as he ponders all the failures Bi-Han saw him as. It isn't fair. It isn't right. Why is Tomas always met with such contempt when all he tries to do is receive acceptance?

"Tomas?" her voice an instant calming flow, "Thought I would find you here?"

A hand slides down the length of his face and he turns to look at the one who has always accepted him. Eyes softened, lips curved and offering a smile...she always so divine, so perfect. Tomas finds himself sighing and relaxing into the wall. Footsteps approach and her warmth radiates close. There's something tingling up his spine while she stands with him. So close, so close.

"'My husband giving you trouble, again?" Comes her inquisition and Tomas need not even answer her. Her posture and overall demeanor softens. "I'm sorry. It isn't right for him to become so upset with you."

His heart hangs heavy. It always her apologizing for Bi-Han behavior for his mistreatment of others. It is enraging to know that someone so sweet takes on the burdens of a brother most vile. Tomas can hear her voice, the words she says always so lovely, but he is unable to listen. No, his grey eyes merely watch her plush and tender lips move. Are they soft? They must be...they be so soft and comforting. Eyes continue their path...such a slender neck, smooth and warm skin.

Tomas can't stop himself not when eyes fall upon her chest. How unfair seeing the fabric stretch like that. Large breasts hide beneath it, just begging to be revealed. Fingers twitch as he imagines what it's like to hold them against his palms. What else could his hands do? That waist of hers...so tight and begging to be grabbed and pulled. Push and pull against his body again and again.

Shit...why does she have to do this? How can she be so cruel to taunt him with her body that so forbidden to him. It's not fair. It's not right. Nothing ever has gone right for Tomas, why does she have to rub it in by standing there looking so...tempting?!

Desire, so much of it, how is expected not to drown? Hands that flinch and wince now spring to life. They grab, they shove and he hears her shriek. Bodies pressed together, she trapped and ensnared and Tomas holds the key to escape. Large hands encompass her wrists, holding her against a wall. She struggles, squirming and writhing against him. Feels good...it feels so good!

Tomas pressed himself as close as he can to her, hot breath dancing against a slim neck. A stiff erection begins to burn and Tomas is so desperate for relief while she continues to move against his body. A tongue so damp licks at her skin and shaking hands begin to roam uncharted territory. The fabric of her dress so pretty against begging palms. He hears her pleading with him, asking him what he's doing and why but Tomas can only hear how delicious her voice sounds like this.

Hips begin to buck, rutting up against her to establish some sort of friction for his growing arousal. None of Tomas can remain still when he has her captured like this. He gropes and caresses all the curves he can. Pulling at her dress to better reveal secrets he could have never dreamed of revealing. Yet here she is, supple breasts exposed that Tomas quickly latches himself onto.

There's a new noise at his ears then, something very dangerous and it shoots right down to Tomas' desperate cock. She's whining, it feels good? He's making her feel good. Invigorated, Tomas begins to luck and suck at perked and blushing nipples. So easily his lips encompass such a beautiful little bud and how perfectly his tongue swirls around it. There's more of those pretty sounds from her and Tomas uses an unoccupied hand to bring her hand to his hard erection.

He can feel her wrist attempting to pull away. How dare she. Doesn't she know he's like this because of her? Because she is always walking around flaunting that lewd body of hers. This is her fault. There is only her to blame for what's happening. Tomas' grip on her wrist steels and he begins manipulating her hand so that she caresses him through his trousers.

"T-Tomas...!" Words are finally coherent again. "Please, you don't mean to do this!"

It is her attempt to reason with him, to still he the very good in him that Bi-Han could never see. Tomas groans and moves his lips from her breast torrid and wild. "Tom-!"

He can't hear her again, lips are pressed onto hers so rough and desperate. Even as she tries to resist, his tongue and hers still collide so gracefully.

"So pretty, you're so pretty." Tomas whines against her in that moment of breath. "I gotta taste you. You're making me go crazy. Fuck, you're always teasing me."

Panicked, afraid, she looks to him. "Tomas, I don't know what you're talking about! Ple-!" She screams, her world spinning as eyes come to witness the wall.

There's a gasp, hands are pulling her hips and soon she feels herself being bent over. She has no choice but to place her palms flat against the wall if she did not want to tumble. Her legs are moved apart and a dress is hiked up around her waist. Over her shoulder she is met with the wild and drunk gaze of her dear friend Tomas.

Bending down, he can feel himself shaking and trembling as he looks at her soaked panties. She's wet, so wet, practically dripping and she knows it too. There is a great shame within her, knowing she's been turned on by someone other than her husband but her body cannot deny pleasure no matter who gives it.

"You're so wet here." Tomas muses, pressing finger against the warmth of her panties. "So sticky...fuck, I gotta taste your pussy."

Her mouth parts to protest but there is only a moan as the flat of his tongue lays against her clothed pussy. Such a betraying moan, she bites her lip to keep herself quiet but Tomas does not stop. His tongue tangos against her nectar stained panties, pushing and sucking. Nails claw at the wall and thighs shake that he teases her like this. Why does it feel so amazing? She loves her husband so much but...this just feels so good!

Teeth slip and her moans are freed into the empty air. Such pretty music she makes for him and Tomas is only fueled to keep going. "You like this, baby? You like me teasing you pussy like this?"

No, this is so filthy. Bi-Han has never talked to her like this. No, Bi-Han always so sweet with his words but Tomas...so cruel and yet why does something within her twist and turn so tightly?

"Ah, you're getting even more wet. You must be really perverted, huh? So fucking hot..." Tomas breathes before continuing. He not even touching her core directly and still he has her moaning like this. "S-Shit, you just can't keep quiet. I'm gonna end up cumming just from listening to you."

That would be her salvation, wouldn't it? If he came now, then nothing could progress further. Please, please just finish! But there is no salvation awaiting her. No, instead her panties are pulled away and cool air greets her. No, no! Tomas could cum from just the sight of her pretty little pussy. Such a lovely color...Tomas quivers, fuck he needs to take her now

Sounds of clothing shifting and Tomas holds the base of his hard and thick length. The tip slides against her pussy, coating it so sticky in beautiful glistening wetness. She gasps and begins to beg. "No...! No Tomas don't! Please!"

Her pleas fall so silent, Tomas will not be denied that which should have always been his. His hands grab onto her hips, pushing into soft skin. "I'm gonna fuck you now, okay? I just gotta fuck you. I've always wanted to so...you'll let me, right?"

Words are spoken yet Tomas seems not to be interested in a response. Eyes captured by madness, there is no shred of hesitation left within him now.

"No, wait! Stop!" She tries again but she should have learned that there is no happy ending for her. Tomas' length rubs against her wet pussy, coating it in all her slick and warmth. She can hear him panting just from this, she knows he is excited to fuck her. He's so eager, desperately rutting himself against her in an attempt to enter her.

"S-Shit, it won't go in..." Tomas breaths as he rushes to penetrate that which does not belong to him. He moves a hand to stabilize himself and finally the bulbous and engorged tip spreads her apart. Eyes fly open and a back in bending. No...No! Walls are pried apart as his cock makes its shaky way inside her. Further and further those spongy walls are pulled apart but oh do they cling and wrap around him.

Tomas is moaning, watching as her greedy pussy swallows up his cock from tip to base. Hips slam together and now he is fully nestled inside. The warmth, the comfort, there no better bliss than to be engulfed by her. Tomas lightly swivels his hips, this length moving so snugly against her insides and she cries out.

"You're so tight...sucking me in like that. Such a great pussy. Damn, babe, I can hardly move you're clinging to me so much." She hates that he is right. She hates how her pussy so quickly wrapped around his cock as if he were her dear husband. Tomas can only move his hips shallowly, allowing her pussy to adjust to the foreign intrusion. Her mind knows this is wrong, that she only wants to ever do something like this with her husband but the body wants what it craves. Right now it craves the maelstrom that is Tomas.

Brows pinch together and fingers bruise tender flesh, Tomas can't tolerate this pace any longer. He needs more, he will have more. Skin against skin, the slap of it such a beautiful symphony that fills the room as he begins to fuck her tight little cunt raw. Each thrust brings forth a moan from both of them.

"So good, you feel so good." words slip between breaths as Tomas continues to ravage her. "Your cunt is so fucking tight. It feels like you're suffocating me, babe. Shit, your pussy is the best."

The words have her sick yet his body has her reaching divinity more and more. His cock stretches and fills up all of her, she can feel him so deep inside.

"T-Tomas...please..-" words cannot continue, the moans and mewls leave no room for them.

The sound of his names coming from her lewd and plush lips has Tomas throbbing and straining inside her. "Y-Yeah! Say my name again! Fuck, say my name again, babe!"

She resists, biting her bottom lip and sucking it in. No, she can't. She mustn't moan the name of another man. Her silence is infuriating and Tomas grits his teeth. A hand raises only to come down upon the flesh of her round and shapely ass. The skin there like rippling waves and her entire body tensing and Tomas feels every little bit of it.

"S-Shit! You're squeezing my dick so much! Fuck, you like that? Fucking dirty bitch...!" So horrible, so wonderful. No, this can't be.

Once again his hand punishes her and she can only whimper and shake under him. Her body responds the same, with lust and treachery. She thinks of Bi-Han and her eyes close. Apologies ring in her head over and over again. They compete with the corruption that is pleasure and all of its temptations.

"Such a good slut. God, I love you so much. You feel amazing!" Words from him begin to strain as colors so unspeakable begin to rise into view. "I just can't stop fucking you."

Her body never wants him to stop. The sex he gives so brutal, so feral. They like animals mating with the way they move and moan. Her head is dizzy, her pussy is wet and dripping, it's so good, it's too good.

"T-Tomas..!" A bond is broken, a name is said. "Tomas! I-I can't...!"

She can and she will. Tomas slams himself into her abused cunt again and again, the sounds of their sex so mind numbing. "That's it! Say my name again! S-Shit...I'm not gonna last...!"

Horror, terror, the realization. He's going to cum, he's going to finish soon. No! No! Please not that! "N-Not...inside! You can't!" Those the only words she can manage but they are not the words Tomas wanted.

"Inside? Yeah, Imma cum inside you. I'm gonna cum inside your slutty pussy." Tomas steels himself, he will have no other option. It is his right to do so. She always belonged to him. "Fuck that...idiot Bi-Han. Stealing you from me like that. You should be my wife."

The heat, it is rising it is coiling. Her walls tremble to match his throbbing length. Together they dance, together they reach the sky. Such beautiful rhythms around his cock she provides as her orgasm overtakes her into the pits of calamity.

Her undoing only fuels Tomas and the twisted thoughts within his head. "Yeah, yeah that's right. Cum on my cock! You fucking love it. You love when I fuck you!"

It should have been him. It should have always been him. What would Bi-Han think now? What would he think if he saw his wife having sex with his inferior brother? The thought drives Tomas to manic raptor.

"I'm gonna cum in you. Gonna fill you up real nice. Hey..." wicked thoughts become villainous. "How about I cum inside of you and get you knocked up? Yeah, I think I'll fuck a baby into you. That'll show Bi-Han."

Bi-Han, her husband, the love of her life. The man who she promised herself to but now here she is being fucked by another and cumming around his cock. Her thoughts are ripped away as Tomas sharply pulls on her arm, forcing her back to curve and bend.

A craned neck, moans cannot hide themself and go birthed into the warm air. Tomas groans, Tomas grunts, driven now by a sinister purpose. He'll fuck her so full. He'll paint her insides until there will be no choice but to remember him forever. He loves her. He loves her so much.

Strings of white pearls erupt within a warm and welcoming home. So painted, so tarnished. His cock so buried inside her, he's cumming so much. It's never ending, there's too much! Tomas pulls from her cum stained pussy, spurts still releasing and sticking to her now reddening ass. So sticky and sweet he has made her, watching over her body as she falls to the floor, spent and used.

Tomas pants, enjoying the masterpiece he has created. She lays so cold, eyes filled with tears and pussy so filled with seed that didn't belong to her husband. She cannot move, she cannot bring herself to do much of anything.

Behind her there is movement and the youngest Lin Kuei brother is fixing his clothes, getting himself ready to depart.

"That was really great!" so casual, as if nothing had happened. "We'll have to have fun like that again. Fuck you were just as good as I always thought."

Now he would never have to only imagine it. Now he has the experience to relish in and return to. Turning to leave, Tomas pauses before opening the door.

"Oh and you won't tell Bi-Han, right? Hah, what am I saying, of course you won't tell him!"

Why is he right?

[bonefall]

since squirrelflight isn't sparkpelts mom, or brambleclaws mate, whats the context (i think squirrelflights hope) where sparkpelt calls her a mouseheart for sticking up for brambleclaw

I think a lot of people forget that the context in the book was not great to begin with, since we collectively remember it from Moonkitti's video where she's making a point that Sparkpelt is acknowedging Bramblestar's mistreatment. It's part of her argument, demonstrating that even cats WITHIN the Clan can see that Bramble is treating his wife poorly.

But people who haven't read the book (or haven't in a while and half-remember it) construct context backwards from that, and think it was Sparkpelt trying to tell her mom to stop getting pushed around. It's not.

The context was; Sparkpelt wants Bramblestar to nonsensically start a war with ShadowClan because she thinks they poisoned Larksong.

She's not thinking straight because she's stressed. She's blaming ShadowClan because they'd previously poisoned SkyClan, and believes the motive is that they're angry with Bramblestar for trying to keep the peace. Yelling at her mother is supposed to be an example of irrationally lashing out.

It's also, probably, another opportunity for the writers to torment Squilf tbh. Sparkpelt screams at her that she's being a coward for defending the things Squilf had to BEG Bramblestar to do, so that Bramblestar can step in and tut-tut her with, "don't call your mom a mouseheart when ACTUALLY she's a bitch." Then he turns around to cry that his whole family hates him and he's actually the saddest little ducky in the kiddie pool. Lmaoo

So anyway. Squirrelflight's Horror.

Yep, Sparkpelt's no longer Squirrelflight's daughter; these two are Apprentice and Mentor.

And, yep, Squirrelflight broke it off with Bramblestar after OotS. They never get back together; Sparkpelt's mother is Jessy. But, in the very beginning of this book... she starts to feel bad for him, a tiny bit of the love they had re-sparks, and they're courting again.

Not "mates," but the equivalent of dating.

...Much to the chagrin of Squirrelflight's children, as all three of them have disavowed Bramblestar. Fallenleaf and Jayfeather awkwardly try not to get involved, and Lionblaze probably ends up in a argument with her as he tries to forcefully warn her about what a stupid choice she's making. They both dig their heels in because they are a lot alike, and Lionblaze's explosive confrontation only made the situation worse.

And tertiary effects: Toadstep takes his mate's side, but his mother Daisy (Squilf's best friend) and sister Rosepetal, (Squilf's first apprentice), choose to support Squirrelflight in whatever she does. Squilf's grandchild Hollylark and her apprentice, Sparkpelt, are... cautiously optimistic.

Sparkpelt's relationship with her dad has always been extremely strained. She wants to love him... but she's been involved in his little "tests" before. Squilf was always the one who PROTECTED her from them, an emotional rock during the storm that was her adolescence. Squilf knows what she's doing. She's aware of what she's getting into. She wants her dad to be happy. She knows he hasn't been happy since Jessy left him.

They All Know This. Yes?

So... she should be glad, right? That the people she loves are going to make each other happy? Maybe this will... you know... fix him. And her kits can be born into a happy world where their grandfather isn't so... frustrating.

Or, maybe she can just, HOPE, y'know? Maybe things can be okay after all? Just once?

Hollylark meanwhile is like, "Sure babe it's all gonna be fine! Nothing terrible is going to happen, hahahahahahahaha" as xey purchase 14 fire extinguishers, an insurance plan, and consult the Clerics on the best god to pray to. Alderheart solemnly tells xem that if there was a god who could help, he would have worshiped them long ago.

Leafpool sighs, "at least try goldenflower."

Squirrelflight's Horror's purpose is to set up the events of TBC. Bramblestar's controversial choices here, getting his entire Clan wrapped up in an abusive game he's going to play with his ex-wife/sort-of girlfriend, and ultimately leading his Clan into a controversial battle that gets Leafpool killed, is why no one caught that he was replaced by a cruel impostor.

But most of all, it's about Squirrelflight. It's her going on trial to defend Fire Alone as an ideology in the modern era, it's setting up how her worst enemy will kill to hurt her but how her allies support her, and it's her finally rejecting any love she has left lingering for someone who has proven that he can't treat her well, so that she can focus on all the people who do.

Her heart WILL lead her to make some rash, destructive choices, but nothing she's ever done out of compassion will be something she apologizes for.

SO the change of context around Hollylark's poisoning and death.

For one, Hollylark is now something more interesting. Xey are a Nature Spirit, one of the new entities in BB that I'm still solidifying the rules for.

Other examples of Nature Spirits: Brokenstar, Star Flower.

They're quite rare, and typically born of bits of nature that were beloved for generations before being destroyed.

Hollylark was born because one of xeir moms had a magic misfire. So xey're extremely weak compared to those two.

Fallenleaf has no idea yet how exactly she did this... or, even, how far her own powers extend.

Over the course of this story, Fallen is also having a tiny realization of her own that she can't stay in ThunderClan. She's a God, now, with Sol trapped inside her chest.

Bramblestar WILL be trying to drag her into the conflict, and she has to stand firm and argue that her powers can't be used for politics... or...

this part she does not say, knowing that saying it out loud would only make Squilf double down like Lionblaze's big fight with her did,

Or for Bramblestar's stupid drama.

Of her siblings, she's carrying the least pain about Bramblestar's treatment. She dropped the secret, and then vanished into an adventure that took her from this life for a thousand moons.

Everything still feels very far away, in a sense. Like she's still a distance away from the Hollyleaf that she once was.

So... Bramblestar feels small. This all feels small. Petty.

Beneath her.

So, whatever happens to Hollylark... it feels like a cold rainstorm. If she'd felt somewhat numb and dazed before, reality HITS her.

She couldn't SAVE her child. She has NO IDEA what her powers really are, or their limits.

This causes Fallenleaf and her mate, Cinderheart, to leave the Clans in search of those answers. To find out what Fallenleaf's role, as the new God of Autumn, should be.

But that's Cinderheart's Travels. One of the BB books that doesn't have an equivalent canon book lmao.

And back on Hollylark.

My current thought is that Sparkpelt should end up a LOT sicker from the prey-poisoning, while Hollylark is the one who's less affected by it.

In my head, Hollylark through this SE is in a sort of role where xey're not giving a ton of xeir own opinions, clearly just trying to support Sparkpelt and the kits. Xey're unbelievably stressed out, but xeir response under pressure is to fawn.

So the context of Sparkpelt snapping at Squirrelflight would be that she's physically sick. She's tired, terrified for herself, her kits, and in her state, she's taking it out on Squilf.

Instead of blaming ShadowClan, though, I'm thinking it would be more relevant for Sparkpelt to be angry that Squilf is "Making Bramblestar so upset."

If she's going to be making accusations that are emotional and don't make any sense, Squilf should be noticing that Sparkpelt is being sucked right back into being the self-conscious, terrified child she used to be. Before she had a mentor to rely on.

She hates that Squirrelflight is "upsetting" Bramblestar, blaming her for his actions, in a way that she used to do to herself when she was young.

And at first, Squilf is going to ACCEPT that, and APOLOGIZE... until something happens in front of her to make her realize that if she did that, she would be saying that the toxic impulses she had to train OUT of Sparkpaw were "correct."

A recognition of herself through Sparkpelt before her. And a realization that, no matter what happens, she NEEDS to be there for Sparkpelt because she still needs someone in her corner.

I'm still working out the non-Trial parts of Squirrelflight's Horror, so this is still getting shuffled around. But next,

Bramblestar barges in to "defend" Squilf.

What I like about the original context is the way that Bramble takes a fight between Squilf and Spark and makes it all about himself. I think it's intriguing and telling that he takes the opportunity to guilt trip Squilf again.

And what I'd like to do with the idea in the context of BB, is have Bramble try to force himself into this very personal moment like he's both a hero of Squilf AND hurting sooo very much to do it. Like it was a favor he was doing her, to cut through his immense pain at being undermined and betrayed, to "stand by her side."

And Squirrelflight sees this and feels sickened.

How could she EVER apologize to Sparkpelt for making Bramblestar upset, when he's so callous he'll BARGE in to "save her" from his sick daughter?

Something he MOCKED her for, once, before she chose him over Ashfur?

She's not fully ready to FINALLY purge herself of Bramble, no, but it's one of the last steps. Apologizing to Sparkpelt seemed like the correct thing to do... until Bramblestar reminded her where their guilt comes from.

MOSTLY, I'm unsure of how to resolve this scene. I know I don't want Squilf to stand up for Sparkpelt yet though.

And I want that to bug her. She was such a swirling whirlwind of guilt, shock, and offense, that she did nothing. Caught between too many emotions, she froze.

So Bramble could either storm off like he does in-canon, OR, have Hollylark finally push in to tell them that they need to leave and cut it early.

At some point, perhaps as an ending to this scene or later, I do want Hollylark to express frustration at the way Bramblestar is changing Squirrelflight, and how she just stood back right there

Xey're wise enough to realize it's not Squilf DOING it, but can't help but feel a crushing disappointment that she's THIS old, THIS wise, been through SO MUCH because of this guy...

"I LOVE you, but it's not just about you either. Can't you see how he's finding aaaaall these ways to drag everyone in, just because he wants to get at you?"

And especially Sparkpelt. She needs all of her allies right now, most of all the very mentor who taught her she didn't deserve to feel the way her dad often makes her.

But Squilf did not push back for her. It was only one moment... but it was an important one. And she lapsed.

She can't let that happen ever again.

As for Hollylark, I know that I need to kill them before the end of this book. Like canon, xey're gone before Squilf has her trial. My current thought is that xey sacrifice themself in some way in order to save Sparkpelt's life, perhaps deciding to "take their pain onto myself" and dying in her place.

And that's the context, so far. I've got the Trial pretty solidly mapped out, but the reworked politics and interpersonal stuff are still a WIP. I know the beginning and the end, but the middle's still loose!

[azaharinflames]

Regarding the post from firehose118. That are such good points, and it makes me cry for Tommy all over again. Not that Buck did anything on purpose, but I guess the "plan" from Tim was that he needs "poor" Buck again for upcoming episodes (Eddie moving away, Maddie getting kidnapped), so he can't really have a great support system in Tommy, so they needed to break up. And while his plan also maybe was that everyone feels sorry for Buck for being the one who got broken up with, they didn't consider that viewers would look at this from Tommy's angle too. (and would understand his side)

Hi Nonnie!

Finally answering asks! I wanted to do it yesterday, but the moment I thought about it my body went: lmao as if, so that was a no. But going to sleep at nine p.m did wonders, so here we are!

Regarding your ask: yes.

At this point I think it's rather obvious that was Tim's intention behind the break-up, to have Buck be as isolated as he could get him. At the very least, it is the only thing that makes sense to me.

Is it still a really bad decision? Yes. Because we've seen Buck alone before! This is nothing new, and seeing him spiraling over it is nothing new either. Rather, it feels tiresome and repetitive. Do you know what would've felt like something new? See Buck deal with whatever happens with a partner by his side - see him perhaps lash out at Tommy, and work through it. Let us see him grow as a person, and with someone.

I can't help but think they just didn't fully think this through. That the way they're writing this season is lazy and doesn't feel true to the characters. And a reason for that is what you said: they didn't consider the viewers would look at the break-up from Tommy's angle, would understand it, and would feel incredibly bad for him.

I don't know if they were fully expecting everyone to move into Buck's team and be against Tommy, mostly because I do think they wanted some sympathy for him (therefore, not making the bad ex) just in case they want to bring him back (or just in case the plan is for him to come back); but I do think they weren't expecting for the vast majority to move into Tommy's team, and a lot of people caring for him and what will happen to him now that he's alone.

It's a bit hard to believe for me, because as someone who's worked in marketing, it was rather obvious how loved Tommy has been since his re-introduction. It feels like 2+2=4 that people would be upset at his mistreatment.

Anyway. Sorry for answering you with a rant lmao. Hope that made sense.

My inbox is open for ranting, venting, confessing, or giving any opinions!

Take care <3

[bigtittiecomitte]

What are your thoughts on this video?? This was recommend to me and I watched it and I didn't really care for it..maybe it's just me but it feels like this person seems more salty about V not getting together with N instead of giving actually criticisms of why he didn't like the finale, in fact I've seen most people act act this way when it comes to the finale..it's been mixed since it released and more people have lately been finding reasons to find Nuzi *Problematic* and a bad ship with saying the whole N is dating is "sister" (Cyn) because of Uzi and the solver being in one together in the same body even though that's NOT the case!! Idk, part of the reasons I was never able to fully ship Envy was because of some of the toxic fans and V fans and how they treated Uzi as a character..even after the finale Uzi is still getting undeserved mistreatment and hate and it's truly unfortunate. People need to see and realize that although Nuzi is canon people are still allowed to ship whatever they want canon or not, and just because Nuzi is canon doesn't mean anybody can be a dick and jackass. People also shouldn't be sending threats to Liam and Glitch because of the finale, yes the finale was flawed but that doesn't make it okay to to doxx or hass the studio or creator, MD is Liam's show and he should allowed to do whatever he wants with this show, I've said this in my own post but I think many in this fandom truly took this show for granted and didn't really deserve it..although I'm grateful for Murder Drones and will forever cherish it as it's my comfort show, this fandom is truly a mess and I know that's all fandoms..but the MD community is just so toxic and I wished it was a much better and healthier fanbase. :(

https://youtu.be/mQ5xnKYHGoc?si=6bSwQpiPV10beX-b

I saw the video and holy fuck Media Literacy is DEAD

I’m all for hearing people’s opinions but it really does piss me off when people just start saying crap without properly understanding the characters they’re talking about

For anybody not wanting to check out the video, basically the guy is saying that N and V should’ve gotten together and N and Uzi should’ve just stayed friends or even have a “sibling dynamic” (pretty much stuff we’ve already heard before lol). The issue is that if you have been watching the show with your two eyes you would know that N and V getting together in the end would actually be WORSE for N and V

N and V’s relationship is very catered to the past, present and future. In the past, N and V had a thing for each other in the manor (maybe even dated) then we have the present where N and V are now genocidal robots with the intent of killing worker drones for oil. N still has a crush on V prior to meeting Uzi while V tries to protect her and N by continuing on their path of death due to her trauma of Cyn and everything that happened in the manor, she tries pretending to forget his name and hides secrets from him, which makes him upset and lash out on her. Then we cut to the future, N and V are now friends and living in the bunker with the rest of the worker drones, they’re healing but they’re doing alright now that there’s finally no hiding secrets from one another

The problem with a lot of people complaining that Envy should have been canon instead is the fact that their entire relationship throughout Murder Drones is all about moving on and the fact that not all romantic relationships end with them being happy together. N and V could never have what they had in the manor again because not only have they moved on from each other but they’re also building up their platonic relationship brick by brick. N and V were never proper friends and never got the chance to rekindle until Uzi came along, which another thing I want to talk about

I see so many people hating on Uzi for being the reason as to why N and V didn’t become endgame but if it wasn’t for Uzi. N and V would’ve never ended up where they are today like if they never met Uzi then they would just end up killing all the worker drones and dying after all the oil is gone, N and V wouldn’t even get to rekindle their relationship because it would be stuck to how it was before Uzi came along. The reason as to why Nuzi became endgame and not Envy wasn’t because Liam favoured one ship than the other but because N and Uzi were actually communicating. They were friends and understood each other’s trauma and feelings, which is what made them work. N and V didn’t have that until N lashed out on her and she got her character growth

The only part I can somewhat agree with is that we should have seen V apologise to the real N (she did apologise but it was to a fake N instead) but I’m at least happy that real N was there to know that she was being sincere with her words. They’re all traumatised characters, none of them deserved what they went through

He says that Uzi should’ve stopped having a crush on N which leads to N and V getting together and I just full on stopped the video because how are you seeing the interactions between N and Uzi and thinking that Uzi should have just stopped having a crush on him when N’s feelings for her were also the same, them not being canon would have actually made no sense because of all the moments we had got of them, hell even them implied to be dating in Episode 7 lol. N and V getting together in the end would have been way more rushed than the ship of what some envy shippers actually claim to be rushed

Not only that but him calling V “jealous” of N and Uzi being in love because apparently that’s what she wanted with N, like hell did V tell you that? She’s happy for them even if she doesn’t look like it (I mean I don’t like seeing couples in public either lol)

Nuzi being canon doesn’t mean you have to stop shipping other ships that you find better and it’s totally ok to be disappointed that Envy wasn’t the main ship. But it doesn’t give people the right to just make fake screenshots of Liam’s twitter and blaming Nuzi shippers for the reason as to why Nuzi became canon (apparently we all did a meeting and pay for Nuzi to be canon lmao). Remember that fanfiction and fanart exist my dudes, support your local AU’s too

Basically Envy is a very tragic ship and it was always written that way and guys please stop mischaracterising V it hurts

[howlsofbloodhounds]

It's the anon of the erm bsp "found family" mistreating Killer again

Killer, stage 2, he's fine with this life. He has a purpose, do these things his boss tell him to do. The things always have something new in store. So, he gets what he wants, no reason to care about being sorrounded by lovebirds.

But then the truce happens. Now the only 'missions' would be shopping sprees, but Killers not trusted with that either. So Killer gets nothing new. To make up for that, he tries getting something new out of his co-workers instead. There's probably plenty of things that could give Killer what he wants, but the others doesn't help him figure things out. They don't help him with his problems and needs as they do each other. He already messes with them a bit, but now with nothing else to sustain, he makes it everyone else's problem. And they HATE him for it.

Killers constantly bothering everyone else, maybe playing with their feelings or messing with their stuff. It makes him all the more insufferable. No one is happy with this, not killer either.

Also thinking about another thing... Killer having times when everything gets too much and he gets really anti social. Or more like, he shuts up for once and doesn't keep his constant grin. It's so obvious that he's not okay but that fact is so easily ignored because the others just don't care. Killer shows that an insult actually hurt him and they'd just brush it off or think he's being dramatic "because that's the kind of person Killer is

Hello bsp ‘found family’ anon (for lack of a better nickname 😔) 👋. Glad to see you again, and I love that idea.

Especially given how i think boredom would probably be the worst sensation/feeling for Stage 2. It’s overwhelming and probably extremely aggravating. Denying him access to something new, novelty, is probably akin as to locking him in a dark room for years on end or like, extreme sensory deprivation.

To him, it’s literal torture. To them, it’s just killer being annoying and acting out for attention. Even as he gradually escalates into increasingly more and more self destructive and violent behavior, unable to communicate his needs because he’s so dissociated and disconnected from them.

There may even be a period where he lashes out at all of them by continually killing himself and Resetting, if he’s able to in Nightmare’s castle, forcing them to relive the same day over and over until they give him..something, he wouldn’t have the words to explain it in a way they’d understand.

[buckgasms]

What about

If you were an omega in like 'medieval times', and you were rescued from a pack of alphas who mistreat you and hurt you because your a soft little omega.

It's a miserable night and you are sitting alone by the fire when the camp is attacked by Alpha Bucky's pack? And you are so scared because you had heard stories about how strong and dangerous they were. And the fight was really brutal and you sort of manage to hide in a corner until all the fighting stops and you're just shivering and terrified.

But it turned out they were only dangerous to bad people, and they totally look after omegas and worship the ground they walk on?

And they give you nice clean clothes and tend your injuries, feed you and give you a nice little tent to sleep in, with warm blankets to snuggle up in.

And maybe you spend a bit of time with Peter who is a bouncy omega and he's like really sweet and makes you feel like it's all going to be ok?

And you ask him about Bucky because he smells so damn good and he keeps looking at you but he hasn't spoken to you. And Peter is like, "Oh he's fine, he's just a bit intense, but once you get to know him he's great."

And one night you are all at a tavern and you find yourself sitting next to Bucky somehow (Peter spoke to Natasha and she made it happen) and you are talking with him a bit and it's nice but you feel nervous because now you are next to him it's even more clear how attractive and strong and safe he is and you just want to bury your face in his chest, but you cannot.

And mayyyyybe, you start to doze off on his shoulder because you've been through a lot. And the next thing you know he is carrying you up to your bedroom and you just don't want him to let go, so you whisper to him, "please stay, it's scary in here by myself..."

So after very little persuasion he agrees but doesn't get under the covers because he doesn't want to make you feel pressured or anything. But you have had some mead so you just snuggle up and immediately fall asleep with his scent all around you???

And you wake up and he's accidentally snuggled up to you and buried his nose in your neck and you feel so happy and yet can't stop freaking out because it's so intimate even though you are both fully dressed and nothing even happened.

And what if later that day he comes up to you and tries to suggest that you both should avoid sleeping like that again until he can properly win your affections, but you just pout and say, "but it's scary all alone... Unless you think I should ask another alpha?" And give him your best innocent eyes and bite your lip and he just flares up red at the thought of it.

"Well if you don't want me in your tent and I can't sleep by myself, what am I going to do?" You ask, batting your lashes and ever so slightly pressing your fingers against his chest.

And he just growls and storms off but you just giggle and skip off to tell Peter and Natasha what happened because they are now your number one fans and love seeing Bucky flustered.

So that night over the camp fire you spend time chatting to Natasha, who is an alpha, and you loudly tell her your problem about not wanting to sleep alone and she offers a space in her tent. And Peter is gleeful at the look on Bucky's face as he glares at this exchange.

Especially because he can smell your mischievous delight in your scent and he knows he's being played for a fool. But as Natasha strokes your arm he cannot help himself.

He stomps over and takes your hand in his before pulling you up in the air and over his shoulder, marching away from Natasha as you squeal in surprise.

Finally he puts you down outside his tent and presses a hungry kiss to your lips. "Omega, you pull a stunt like that again and I'll have your ass, now get in this tent and go to sleep before I change my mind."

And you just giggle and kiss him on the cheek before heading inside and making the bed a perfect little nest for when he returns to snuggle up with you?

That might be cool?

[sentientsky]

On Crowley, the Starmaker, and the Disruption of Intergenerational Violence

(based on this post from @nightgoodomens) I started thinking about Crowley and the Starmaker and the way in which he's an engineer at heart. But then I started gathering screencaps and making gifs and stuff, and then I was thinking about how Crowley's doing a really good job of upsetting patterns of intergenerational trauma. (Of course I'm going to talk about childhood stuff, what did you expect from me??) CONTENT WARNING: this will involve discussions of childhood trauma and abuse (not explicit)

I'll be using they/them pronouns to refer to the Starmaker and he/him pronouns for Crowley. This is for no other reason than to help me differentiate in my own writing lol.

To preface, the Starmaker is so so important to me. You have no idea; they are my beloved, my everything, my most adored.

I mean, look them. What a fucking cutie (i accidently/subconsciously picked up the habit of nose-scrunching because of this goofy little cosmic Bob the Builder)

They're also an engineer, a creator of worlds—someone who spins matter and existence into being.

Their desire to create, to make things happen is carried throughout the story.

(e.g., Crowley's rainstorm) He maintains a love for the universe and all the stars in the sky.

So what does this have to do with intergenerational trauma? Well, as we've discussed time and time again, Crowley is deeply deeply traumatized by both the violence of Heaven and of Hell. Trauma, much like the worst fucking family heirloom ever, has the capacity to be passed down through the years. Let's get more specific. What is intergenerational trauma?

(source)

(source) For example, my grandfather has a horrific temper and lashes out as a way to cope with his emotions. In turn, my father learned that being abusive towards one's children was acceptable, and applied it to his parenting of me.

In this case, Crowley was abandoned and actively forced into, "a million-light-year freestyle dive into a pool of boiling sulphur" by God—someone who is functionally his parent. In Hell, he was subject to torture and other forms of cruelty. Unsurprisingly, that leaves a fucking massive mark on an individual. It would be very easy for him to simply replicate the patterns that he learned in his time as the Starmaker and turn cold/callous/cruel. And yet he doesn't do this. As mentioned here, he is kind and compassionate. He sticks around through continual rejections, despite having only known abandonment. He answers questions (invites them even). At the same time, the trauma hasn't had a nonzero effect on him, of course. He's redirected the violence into compulsive caretaking and a kind of need to prove himself, among many other things (totally not speaking from experience here. no siree!! *sweating*). Let's take a closer look at this (because I want to and you're stuck with me hehe): Questions As we saw in season 1, Crowley cites asking questions as the reason for his Fall (an idea which we see reiterated in season 2):

Instead of replicating that same violence (by belittling, rejecting, or else lashing out at those who ask questions), we see him encouraging curiosity. Not only is this evident within the Starmaker,

but also in Crowley himself, as we see with both Muriel and Jimbriel:

Along the same lines, as he's been subject to a great deal of unkindness (understatement of the year), it would be easy for him to carry that cruelty forward (god knows my family has taken that route before. who said that!!!). Nevertheless, he remains kind, even to those who have hurt him (which isn't to say that you need to be or even should be kind to those who abuse you. abuser apologists are not a thing in this household). Kindness even in the face of mistreatment + anger Gabriel, as Crowley has mentioned, has the capacity to smite Crowley. He has actively tried to kill the love of his life. The mere presence of Gabriel in the bookshop triggers a fight or flight response in Crowley, and this disruption represents a violation of the safety of the bookshop that he and Aziraphale had established within the past however many years (see Alex's fantastic meta post for more detail regarding the bookshop becoming an unsafe space for Crowley: x)

ignore my cursor. just pretend its a fly. shh shhh it's beez just being a silly lil guy (gn). i'm too tired to remake this gif, so this is what we're working with lol

(AND THEN HE OFFERS HIM A HOT CHOCOLATE?!?!?!! couldn't be me) Case Study: The Plants (shoutout to @sighed-the-snake for their post about leaf spots) Even with regards to his plants, we see a widely different side of him beginning in the second season. In the first season, we witness him using the plants as a site of displacement/projection, in which he reenacts the violence he himself was subject to.

However, in the second season, while we don't get a lengthy view of them, episode four gives us a quick glimpse into how this approach might have altered in the four years since.

(please keep in mind that my vision is absolute dogshit, so apologies if you look at my little circles and go "what the actual fuck is she talking about?" i TRIED, okay????) Had this been the first season, these little guys wouldn't have been permitted to exist in the state they're shown here. We could argue, oh well, it's just because Crowley's been busy/distracted with other things. And while that may be the case, we've seen him preoccupied with the end of the world in season 1, and yet still exert control over the plants.

...I have no solid conclusion for this, as I'm still sick and my brain is like a bowl of stagnant dishwater at the moment. I'm not putting forth any new ideas or anything, so I guess this is all to say, "yay for cycle breakers!".

[codfanficedits]

Before the mask - Part thirteen

Pairing: Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Because Simon wasn’t born as Ghost.

Wordcount: 2050| Rating: E! (18+ only!)

Warnings: mentioning of childhood abuse, an attempt at a decent conversation

A/N: As a true fanfic writer, I have been scheduled to a surgery and I'll be most likely to go MIA for a few weeks while I recover, I'm sorry!

Simon knew it wasn’t fair to take it out on you. He knew it wasn’t your fault, he knew you didn’t raise him to be like this. But in that split second, he couldn’t stop it, his mind was so overwhelmed that he had lashed out.

‘I’m not a violent dog, I don’t know why I bite.’ The quote he had once heard fills his mind, Simon didn’t want to be a violent dog, never wanted to be one, he saw what had happened to violent dogs. But if you mistreat a dog long enough, if you beat a dog long enough. It will only know violence.

His mind is running wild and once more Simon doesn’t know what to do, he could feel you freeze up in his lap, and he doesn’t know if he should wrap his arms around you, beg you for forgiveness, tell you he didn’t mean to, but that he panicked? Or should he keep true to his word, really kick you out and deal with the consequences, he could always make it up to you later.

And oh God. Dear fucking God.

What if you get tired of this? What if he is more broken than you though he would be and what if you grow sick of it? What if you see him for who he really is? A broken boy, with no clue who he really is, just trying to mend his personality to the people he deemed special, so they won’t leave him? A broken boy, who has been hurt so many times before, that he felt as if he wasn’t worthy of attention ever again, especially yours.

A broken boy, who is so angry at the world, because everybody saw what was happening, and nobody tried to stop it.

And those boys live together, making Simon who he is in this moment. All of them together are trying to fight to keep him as safe as they can. And you. You’re dangerously close, you can make him feel vulnerable and that is something Simon struggles with. It goes against who he thought he was.

But maybe, just maybe, he could allow himself to tear those walls down a little bit, to let you in a little bit. Maybe he could allow you to be the guiding moon in the darkness of his mind.

For Simon, this feels like an eternity, while in reality, his little snapping wasn’t more than a few seconds ago.

You blink, once, twice. What the fuck just happened? How did he go from being so.. so.. happy to whatever the fuck this was?

You’re stunned, the way he switched up so fast wasn’t something you were used to.

And his eyes betrayed him. They betrayed how he really felt, they betrayed the turmoil of emotions within. They couldn’t hide the storm that he felt, and you noticed, you could see right through those eyes.

But you weren’t put on this earth to change him, to fix him, to pick up the pieces others had caused and glued them back on. That wasn’t what you were made for, no matter what you had been told.

Of course you felt sympathy for what had happened, of course no one should’ve been raised the way he had been raised, but it was a reason for his behaviour, not an excuse.

“What the fuck, Simon.”

And Simon winces from your harsh words, a sinking feeling in his gut when he realizes he might not get away with this type of behaviour. He wants to open his mouth, to come up with a thousand different excuses as to why he had acted the way he did. But he gets shushed by you.

“No, you listen.” You say, warning him. “We just agreed we have to communicate more, we just agreed to let each other in, and here you are, shutting me out again. You can’t demand that I share my feelings with you, that I share my thoughts with you when things get me overwhelmed, only for you to shut me out.” You get off his lap, feeling that your words don’t have as much power when you’re sitting down. And maybe going for the attack wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but you were only human too.

“You don’t know how it is.” Simon muttered.

“Then tell me how it is!” You didn’t want to raise your voice, but it happened anyway, the frustration getting the best of you.

Simon shuts down again, how could he possible explain what is going on inside of him, when he himself doesn’t fully understand what is happening? And on top of that, how is he supposed to share his feelings. He is a man, and men are not supposed to be soft, to be caring, to be sweet, that is not what he has been taught. And how could one man go against the generational trauma that has bestowed upon him?

“Simon.” You sigh his name and it sounds so sweet to him. “I will never be able to fully understand what you went through, I will never be able to say that I get how you feel, because my upbringing has been so different than yours. But, if you shut me out completely, I will never understand even the slightest part of you, and we can’t have that, not if we want to make us work. So please, for the love of God, don’t shut me out.”

His mind is running, and he is unable to fully comprehend what is happening, his mind is screaming one thing, to brush this off, to snap at you again, to tell you to shut up, but the other part, the part that wants to heal, is begging him to let you in.

The difficult thing about healing, is that it takes place outside of someone’s comfort zone.

And being abused means that Simon has been out of his comfort zone for most of his life, and it’s a battle, a struggle, to give up that comfort zone again, now that he has finally found it. His throat feels dry, no matter how often he swallows, he has to make a choice and he hates that he can’t have a little preview about the outcome of his choice would be, and that alone makes him doubt it all even more.

“I..” His voice drowns out, how should he phrase this? Hell, he doesn’t even know what he wants to say himself. “Scared.”

It seems like you would have to lead this conversation.

You lean against his dresser, trying to let your rational side speak and not your heart. “What are you scared of?”

What was he scared of? Losing you, losing himself, being himself, not being himself. Existing while others had made sure he was broken.

“I.. It’s a conflict.” He eventually managed to say, and he is silently pleading for you to be content with this information.

“A conflict between what?” You try not to let your patience wear thin, you know he can’t help it, you know it isn’t his fault, although you still feel as if his reaction is his responsibility.

Simon fidgets with his hands, cursing himself that a simple morning of crafting, of making the mask he wanted to wear for Halloween had ended up with this. If only he had behaved himself better, if only he had just shut up when he got overwhelmed.

“I have been taught to be violent.” He admitted quietly. “And doing this.” He pauses to gesture to the paper mâché. “This is not violent.”

That was something you could work with, that was something a conversation could be build on.

“What is it about violence, that brings you peace?”

His blood runs cold, his stomach churns and he has to swallow the lump in his throat. He hadn’t told you he found peace in the violence, yet you hit the hammer on the head while you looked right through him.

“It’s all I’ve known.” He muttered. “It’s what I’ve been raised with. It’s what comes naturally.”

It’s saddening to see, really. He hides it so well during the day, when he is out with others, yet right now his childhood takes over, the trauma fronting, taking over his personality, and he could be so much more than just his trauma.

“Is it what makes you happy?” You ask, maintaining eye contact, no matter how invasive it might feel.

Simon shakes his head, while it brought him a sense of peace, a sense of comfort, a sense of familiarity, it didn’t make him happy, he had tasted life without violence, and he craved the sweetness of it.

See, your first reaction was to ask him why he did it anyway, but you knew he didn’t know, it was a habit, reacting out of anger, reacting in a violent matter, it is what his father had taught him was right, and it was what the army had praised him for.

“What did you feel when we were done mask making?” A new question to snap him out of it.

Should he tell you? What if you find him to be weird? What if you think he shouldn’t feel like this? But the gentle look in your eyes makes him believe that you won’t judge him, that you would at least try to understand him.

“At first I was proud.” He admitted with a sheepish smile. “I never really did this type of stuff growing up. And then I felt fear. Fear that I was becoming too soft, and all of the sudden I feel this random wave of sadness coming over me. And that was too much.”

Oh, his words tug on your heart string, he sounds so sweet, so vulnerable, so human.

“What’s wrong with feeling sad, with feeling fear or pride?” It is a genuine question, as you really try to understand what he is going through.

“I am not supposed to feel these things!”

“Why not? You’re only human.”

Only human.

Only human.

He was allowed to be only human.

You could see it in his face, his eyes getting a little bloodshot, a little bit of moisture starting to collect at the bottom lid of his eyes, the soft trembling of his bottom lip, the sharp intake of air when he tries to fight it. A little sniffle, and finally a tear.

Simon Riley was allowed to be human.

Your first instinct would be to hug him, coddle him. Tell him everything will be alright. But you also know that not everyone feels the same way, and the last thing you want to do, is to push his boundaries, especially at times like these.

“What do you need from me?” You ask, your voice soft. “Do you want a hug? Do you want to be left alone? Do I need to get you some water?”

Simon just looks up at you, the tears in his eyelashes makes it hard to see, and while he opens his mouth to talk, no sound comes out, instead he holds out his arms, an universal sign that he needed you.

The moment you’re within his reach, his arms wrap around your waist and he buries himself into you, years of build up rage, build up frustration, build up fear, and sadness, they all leave him through his sobs. His shoulders shake after each cry, and all you can do is stroke his hair, murmur sweet nothings, so he knows it is okay to let go like this.

Although for Simon, it does feel pathetic, it feels wrong to let go like this. He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t cry like he is, he should hold it in.

But fuck does it feel amazing to let go, to let the floodgates open and just let everything out.

Your nails gently scratch the skin on his scalp. “You’re only human, Si.” You whisper, barely being heard over his sobs. “And I’m really proud of you for not shutting me out.”

He looks up at you, red, puffy eyes, wet cheeks, but the sobs had stopped. “Fuck.” Was all he could muster. “I have no idea how to feel, what to feel, how to describe it.”

“Then just feel.”

[inkdemonapologist]

What are your thoughts on the characterization of the ink demon himself?

In BatDR? Ehhhhh…….

There’s plenty of room for interesting headcanons, especially what with the Ink Demon and Bendy behaving so differently. A lot of folks have imagined it as a Jekyll & Hyde type situation, which is neat, or just an internal Venom-esque “the souls of the innocent/two bagels” dynamic. Or there’s the interpretation that the Ink Demon deep down wants the love and acceptance he gets as Baby Bendy; he’s the same guy, but his emotions have been messed with and he’s being treated differently so he reacts differently, which is a take I actually really like.

Just looking at the Ink Demon on his own, it’s SO easy to read him as a teenager, thinking he’s so cool and edgy talking about his Dark Kingdom, not looking like Bendy anymore b/c hes decided wanting to look like Bendy is cringy and he’s TOUGH AND POINTY NOW – then making The Dumbest Mistake at the end by letting Audrey possess him because he thinks it’ll make him more powerful, and having no idea how to fix it, but still trying to act cool. The idea of BatIM’s Ink Demon being the equivalent of a frustrated child lashing out, and BatDR’s Ink Demon being a teenager who has internalised that he’ll be harmed if he’s not powerful and has embraced being evil and violent and hated as a shield, is an interpretation that makes sense to me. There was this GREAT fanart I vaguely recall but cannot find again of the Ink Demon with a symbolic birdcage in the middle of his chest where the little Bendy rocked peacefully on a swing – Bendy as the piece of him that’s scared and hurt, a piece he’s pushed from sight more and more in favour of making himself more sharp and cruel, but now can’t always hide, is a REALLY INTERESTING thematic concept.

But the truth is that we didn’t get any of those things --

Bendy and the Ink Demon being the same creature is a really interesting development that is literally never touched on beyond explaining how and why it happened. What does Bendy think of the Ink Demon form? What does the Ink Demon think of the Bendy form? Are they two consciousnesses, or the same guy? Really obvious questions that you’d think would be inherently guaranteed to come up due to the premise, but they don’t! Audrey discovers that Baby Bendy and the Ink Demon are the same entity and seems to feel exactly nothing about this? She still supports ending the Ink Demon, even though he’s the little cartoon devil she made friends with and said she didn’t want to hurt… it just seems like there should at least be a conflicted feeling somewhere. The Ink Demon himself is portrayed as Just Evil, and nothing challenges that, to a level that’s so bizarre that it really feels like the NARRATIVE ITSELF is baffled by the idea that anyone might question the basic idea of "Scary Demon Bad, Cute Bendy Good". And I’ve talked before about how strange Joey’s final speech comes across once you notice this, as he brushes the Demon off as an “evil face” while telling Audrey how special and perfect and loved she is, and the whole moment is framed as though we’re meant to be encouraged by Joey, and not wincing at the way he disregards the demon he mistreated and abandoned.

The Ink Demon has been regarded as a soulless, monstrous mistake by various characters throughout this whole series, locked up and now literally, unambiguously tortured because of it, and it’s easy to imagine the story that assertion suggests – one where the Ink Demon’s cruelty is the result of him being cast out and treated with disgust by humans, like Mewtwo or some kind of inky Frankenstein. But in BatDR, we never see any hint that the initial reading of “monstrous mistake” is incorrect. As if locking him up was the correct, smart thing to do, and creating Baby Bendy to trap him and cause him pain was a good move, and the only problem is that it can’t be made permanent.

I think the closest we get to seeing something more from the Demon is his line to Audrey about being a mistake and a monster, “like me.” I really like his speech in that scene… He could simply be trying to manipulate her, but it’s so easy to read as projection, as if the only way the Ink Demon could reveal his own betrayed feelings is by accusing someone else of them. And then… nothing really comes of it. Everyone continues regarding the Demon as a purely evil monster. When the Ink Demon lashes out at Joey, it’s not framed as a reaction to being rejected so explicitly, it’s just… trying to stop him because Joey’s getting through to the Demon’s intended prey (with bonus points for "the wretch is mine" making him feel particularly scummy). You can still imagine he’s motivated by those things, but I really feel like you have to come into the story with that assumption in order to see it there.

This isn’t saying that the Demon has to not be a bad guy for his characterisation to be compelling – like, for example, Audrey could just have a short moment of realising that if Bendy IS the Ink Demon, there must be more to the Demon than we can see – but decide he’s too dangerous to risk giving up the chance to stop him (WHICH SURE WOULD BE INTERESTING GIVEN THE TRAJECTORY OF HER FATHER’S LIFE, HUH). He can still be a violent monster who is creepy at Audrey, tries to kill her, lies to her, and then eats(???) her. He doesn’t have to behave sympathetically for the narrative to acknowledge that he’s been treated unfairly, and the other characters don’t have to give him a chance at redemption in order to be believably good people. But it feels weird that…. the narrative never seems to notice??? Anywhere???? ESPECIALLY AFTER MENTIONING THE TORTURE EXPERIMENTS??? I think Malice’s writing in this game was incoherent, but the narrative’s treatment of her was humane; she’s violent and cruel and has to be stopped, but the character who keeps having to drive a sword through her torso still feels for her and notices her pain. It’s bafflingly wild that Audrey never really gets a moment like this for the demon.

[toringo]

Since I already made this a tag, I might as well develop the thought: William is a self-fulfilling prophecy personified. He wholeheartedly believes that no one would ever respect or need him in any way despite his desperate want for attention and splendor.

He wants people to give him attention and care for him, only to push them away and cry about how lonely he is; he alienates himself from Elizabeth, shoves her off, and so, despite still caring for him in a way, she grows resentful of him (just like she does with Henry).

I am 100% sure he was doing that with Henry, too. Henry must have loved him to some extent. If not romantically, then as a close friend, family perhaps. Yes - Henry was distant, constantly drifting away with his thoughts - fixated. If William cared to get closer, he would surely be able to.

But William wasn't trying to get any closer; he was in his little bubble of obsession and spite, always just a bit out of reach, wallowing in misery that he hid from everyone else.

Henry was his only close friend, but in the end, it was like they barely knew each other (They were both oh so lonely).

Instead of taking the first step, William grows jealous, craving Henry's attention and convincing himself he will never get it. He starts blaming it on Henry's children: Charlotte especially, 'daddy's little girl.'

In Charlie's memories, William looks like he is considering which one to take, her or her brother. I don't think that's the case - I think he's always intended to take her. It was just a matter of figuring out which was which: they were twins, and it was dark in the storage.

He knew what would hurt the most. Henry didn't seem to care about Sammy nearly as much as he did for his little girl. He started drowning himself in grief while William was considering some things.

What a power trip that was!

What a center of attention he's become, even though people weren't aware he was the culprit.

What a thrill.

Not only had it made him feel powerful (feared), but it had also given him a splendid opportunity to become Henry's shoulder to cry into. It had also fully convinced him of what he'd always thought: no one would ever love him. He was a terrifying and imposing figure.

Maybe he'd felt justified in his crime; maybe the fun that came with it was secondary.

He wanted to be hated, feared, to wake disgust. It was better than remaining unseen, even if it was his fault.

It's like he wants to get mistreated to have justification, of sorts, the satisfaction of being correct. He takes pleasure from people being scared of him, disgusted with him, and hating him. Whenever someone shows any sign of care or concern, he lashes out.

Did he beg Henry to mistreat him? Not with words, but his behavior? Did he confess so he could see the betrayal, the hatred? Disgust? Was he drinking it off his eyes? Did he want Henry to turn that hatred into violence?

When Henry made his last decision, was he disappointed? Was he satisfied?

Lonely, again?

He is constantly setting himself up for failure.

[iamthecomet]

-sets a craisin chocolate chip cookie in your askbox-

I come baring murder ghoul (past murder ghoul actually) Mountain thoughts.

So in my lore for Mountain, he was cast into Hell after death because he committed a serious crime in life and it lead to a sort of "divine punishment" deal.

The tldr is that he essentially massacred the original occupants of the abbey, like, centuries ago, because they killed his wife when he was still human (she was having an affair with one of the monks, had been their whole relationship, but Mountain loved her so he pretended not to know until it was too much to bear).

Anyway, point is, Mountain has a high kill count straight out the gate, but he's calmer now and just... nobody would suspect that he's capable of such things.

Then there's Dewdrop.

Everyone thinks Dewdrop has the potential to kill... but he won't.

He doesn't.

If he ever did, it would be a complete accident and it would probably break him.

Well, after Aether leaves, Mountain notices that some of the lower level siblings are acting a bit too self important.

They think they're hot shit just because they joined the church, and he can see them abusing what little power they have in order to hurt others, and something about that rubs Mountain the wrong way.

And then they start messing with Dew.

Dew's a stoic, so it's hard to tell when something is bothering him, and that is a strength in and of itself, but all of a sudden he's a lot more "explosive", emotionally volatile, and Mountain see that the siblings are poking the bear.

They want Dew to lash out, because they either think it's funny or they want to get him in trouble.

Either way, Mountain doesn't think it's very nice, and a little voice in the back of his head starts to remind him how easy...

How sinfully simple it would be...

Of course, he tries to ignore it, messes with them other ways, but then they start going after Cumulus, too.

That's two of his packmates that are being mistreated, and if one was enough to make him consider it, two...

Anyway, whether he actually does it or not, those siblings go missing, and nobody seems to know what happened to them, but the plants on one side of the garden seem to be growing a lot better than the ones on the opposite side.

Mountain says he added a little more calcium to the soil, and then just goes back to watching his pack play outside.

...Aether gives him a call later to say that he processed the applications he sent over to make the "transfers" look official.

Anywho.

-slithers away-

How did you know I love craisin chocolate chip!? ANYWAY. Lamp, I've said it before but I have to say it again. I adore your brain. It's so big. Mountain being the deadliest of them. The highest kill count. With a long long fuse? Dew trying so hard to ignore it--to keep his shit together until it's impossible?

Mountain trying to hold off. To just let things play out. Dew can take care of himself. And something will happen to those siblings eventually. They will get knocked down a peg. I love that Mountain realizes that he is the thing that is going to have to happen to them. That if they're being shitheads to both Dew and Cumulus it's only a matter of time before they start in on someone else. And Aether isn't there to put an end to it. And Mountain knows how easy it is. How quick. Knows he could end it in seconds. I wonder if he talks to Aether about it before he does it. Wonder if Aether encourages him. Do we think the others know? Dew? Cumulus? Do they know the real reason the flowers Mountain keeps leaving in their rooms are so beautiful?

[renxzs]

Aelin Week - Day 6: Rowaelin | @rowaelinscourt | AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: Aelin is having a very bad day… or week. Okay, more like a very bad year. She’s in dire need of a little kindness and comfort. Although she tries to deny herself of it, feeling utterly undeserving—Rowan Whitethorn will deny her none of it.

Word Count: 3.5k

CW: basically shameless smut (18+ only), hurt/comfort, mutual pining, depressive thoughts, Aelin desperately needs a hug, mention of parental deaths, coworkers who become..a bit more, modern au

I won't always have the words  to pull you back from the dark.

But I will always be here  to sit with you in it  and take your hand or wrap my arms around you  until it passes.

For every day of sunshine  there will be a night of darkness, 

but I want to spend  both of them with you.

—S.K. Williams

Arobynn Hamel, her prick of a boss, slowly shook his head as the crease between his brows deepened. He flipped harshly through the pages of the case folder she had handed him moments ago.

Aelin’s body went rigid, preparing for whatever verbal lashing he was about to spew. Entirely negating the amount of time and effort she poured into this case over the last two weeks, discounting hard work she was actually proud of. 

She would not allow him the satisfaction of seeing the effect his condescension had on her, how truly deep it sometimes cut. She maintained a look of impassivity and waited.

“This is your best work? Really?” Arobynn scoffed derisively and leveled her with a hard stare, contempt rolling off him. Aelin focused on breathing steadily through her nose.

“If this is it, then I need you to do the fucking best of someone better.” His words were small glass shards being hurled at her, slicing and stinging upon contact. She curled her shaking hands into tight fists on her lap, nails digging into the flesh of her palms. 

Today had been shit, the general week a living hell. 

Then again, Aelin couldn’t honestly say many of her weeks spanning the past twelve months have been much different. 

This weekend marked the one-year death anniversary of her parents. One year since the tragic accident that  had left her entirely alone in this world. One year since unwavering guilt and shame had settled and made a home in her chest. 

Spoken out of hurt and anger amidst a heated argument, those final words to her parents only a handful of hours before they were just… gone would haunt her until the dark god came to claim her. 

Aelin could usually endure Arobynn’s volatile mood swings and mistreatment—weather the rage storm and emerge from his office relatively unscathed.

But this particular week…?

The very moment consciousness had greeted her this morning, she knew she should have stayed curled under the blankets and out of reach from the rest of the world.

Aelin expelled a long breath. It did nothing to relieve the heaviness twisting in her gut and weighing in her bones. It was a marvel how one could feel so heavy yet utterly empty at the same time.

She tipped her drained glass towards the nearby bartender. “Another, please.”

A moment later, a new glass was slid in front of her and her eyes fell to the sloshing liquid. She must look as pathetically dejected as she presently felt, considering the very generous pour. 

A chill of awareness pricked across her nape and skittered down the smooth curve of her spine as a presence sidled up next to her. Quiet flutters stirred low in her belly, and Aelin cursed her traitorous body’s response to his proximity.

Because of course it was him—she knew it was him without needing to look. It was as if she had a preternatural sense specially tuned to him. And she’d been more than aware of his presence across the room—felt him all evening. Those piercing green eyes boring into the back of her. 

Aelin refused to look at him. “Can I help you, Whitethorn?”

“You know,” he drawled, leaning his forearms onto the bar top next to her. “Agreeing to drinks after work typically entails actually sitting within the remote vicinity of those who extended the invitation.”

Aelin lifted the glass of dark amber liquid to her lips and took a long, pointed sip before speaking cooly, “I’m here for the drinks, not the company.”

Rowan slid into the vacant stool next to her. 

Not easily deterred, then.

A few silent minutes passed between them. Rowan patiently waited, watching her still. Aelin inhaled a long breath as frustration started to build. Couldn’t he just leave her alone to sulk in solitude? 

“What do you want, Whitethorn?” 

She couldn’t fully tamper the edge in her voice. All the better though. Maybe he’d take the hint and finally rejoin his rightful group of coworker-turned-friends.

The heat of Rowan’s gaze flitted across the side of her face. She took another drink. 

“Are you okay?” His soft sincerity caused her chest to constrict.

“Christ, Aelin—what do I even pay you for?” Arobynn flung the heavy file folder back across the desk at her. “Being a pretty face around the firm? You barely manage that lately.”

Her eyes closed against the resurfacing memory. The slight burn of unbidden tears pricked in her nose. Aelin sniffed then cleared her throat before speaking. “I’m fine.” 

Aelin met his stare in challenge, to show just how fine she was. But her voice had sounded strained, even to her own ears. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Rowan either, if the gentle look of disbelief and concern were any indication.

Her chest felt like it was going to cave in. She couldn’t stand him looking at her like that. She didn’t need his kindness or concern. 

Didn’t deserve it.

Yet Rowan is always so fucking nice to her. Checking in during the day and inviting her to outings with their coworkers. Most recently, he’s started bringing his lunch over to eat at her desk once he realized she was never going to take him up on the invitation to join him and the others in the break room. 

Time and time again, he has tried to scale the icy fortress she’s spent years carefully constructing around herself. Yet his efforts seemingly remained undeterred, even with her doubled efforts to keep all others out throughout this past year of hell. 

Aelin threw back the last of her drink. She needed to get away from him before he made a crack in her barrier. Only the gods know he’s come close before. And something deep, deep down screamed at her to let him do it.

But once he did crack her open, only to find cold, ugly darkness seeping out—what then? He’d inevitably discard her like everyone else. Because why would he want that? Why would anyone? 

She couldn’t bare it. Couldn’t risk the hope of maybe having him just to lose him and have her chest hallowed out once more. 

Aelin slid from her seat and threw a few bills onto the bar top.

“Hey, hey—Aelin.” Rowan reached for her arm.

She whipped towards him with a withering glare that could usually send anyone running. Rowan didn’t falter.

“Talk to me,” he implored. 

“Why do you even care?” She demanded. 

Still seated, Rowan tugged her into the space between his legs. A quiet sadness swirled with the flecks of deep green in his eyes. 

“I just… do.” 

Aelin’s heart felt crumpled and emotionally stripped. 

Home. She just wanted to go home and curl up in her bed. Wanted to be done with this day—this dreaded weekend. 

“You shouldn’t.” 

Her lips pressed into a firm line to keep from wobbling.  Her gaze lingered in the direction of their coworkers huddled together in a circular booth. Laughing and joking and clinking glasses. Rowan should be over there with them, not here attending to her mess. 

She averted her eyes upwards, blinking a few times to keep impending tears at bay. A calloused hand smoothed down her arm until he wrapped his hand around hers. He squeezed gently.

“What do you need?”

A single tear streaked her cheek. Rowan’s free hand gently wiped it away. He kept quiet, but she didn’t even know what to say. What did she need?

So many things, all seemingly out of reach. 

So often the silence was deafening and the loneliness gutting within the dark place she’s locked herself, behind the icy fortress wall. Numbed for so long, she’s forgotten what it feels like to live. 

The silence stretched between them before she finally rasped, “To feel something.”

Rowan traced a thumb along her cheek. “Then let me help you feel.”

His words hung between them, their implication glaring and heavy. Every nerve in her body roared for his touch, his kindness, his comfort. Him. 

Aelin’s denied herself of all of it for so long, from anyone. Let alone from this beautiful man who refuses to let her fade to the black nothingness constantly on the brink of consuming her whole. This man who has unknowingly taken hold of her beaten down heart, bit by bit. 

Just this once. 

Just this once she could allow herself to give in, to  want him. Just for tonight. 

Her voice barely a whisper above the din of the bar, “Yes.” 

His small answering smile so soft, so warm, it made her chest ache. 

~

Aelin toed off her heels before stepping past the entry way. Her eyes flitted around the apartment, tidy and warm. Her focus snagged momentarily on a bookshelf nestled against the far wall. The spines a variety of colors, sizes, and conditions of wear. She was inclined to step closer and nose through what kinds of books filled his shelves, to gain a small insight into his mind—

Rowan moving deeper into the living room caught her eye though, and she turned to watch him ease onto a plush sofa. He offered her one of his rare soft smiles, then reached a hand out. 

“C’mere.”

Aelin approached him slowly until she stood between his parted legs. He looked so good like that, splayed out lazily. Lap and warm smile more than inviting. Heat emanated from his large hands as he gently gripped her hips. She didn’t resist, allowing him to settle her astride his muscled thighs. 

Her form-fitted work skirt rucked up to her hips so her legs could accommodate his width. Deep green eyes devoured the newly exposed skin, tracing calloused hands up the soft flesh before hooking behind her to pull her impossibly closer. 

Aelin’s stomach curled and skin pricked with the intimacy of their position. Never imagined they would ever be this close—never allowed herself to.

Rowan ran a hand up her back and she arched gently into the touch, chest pressing into his. It’d been so long since she was last touched like this. Her body craved it. 

So did her heart.

She closed her eyes against that thought. 

“This is just sex.” 

Rowan hummed noncommittally. He brushed loose tendrils from her face and smoothed them behind her ear. Her chest tightened as she settled her gaze back on him. 

“I’m serious, Rowan,” she hedged. 

He nodded softly, running a thumb along her jawline, over her bottom lip. “Is that truly what you want?” his voice hushed.

Was it? No. At least she didn’t think so. But…

“It has to be,” she whispered, resolute. 

His eyes pierced through her, burned to her very soul. As if he could unearth all of her darkest thoughts and secrets and turn them to ash.

“Why?”

Because I am nothing. Worthless. And you should be running—away from this, away from me. 

She wanted to push him away, protect him from herself. Instead her fingers flexed in the soft silvery hair at his nape. The tightness in her chest splintered out as unwanted emotions and thoughts bubbled to the surface, a familiar numbing ache seeping into the hollow parts.

A slow, sad shake of her head. “I have nothing to give.”

Something crumpled behind those pretty green eyes. Then Rowan pulled her face closer, grazing his lips over hers. “I don’t want anything.” The featherlight touch of his lips as he spoke sent a chill up her spine. “Just you, Aelin.”

His words… the way her name sounded on his tongue—it fractured something deep within. And she was helpless to the sob that racked up through her body. No one has ever wanted her before, not for just her.

“Shhh,” Rowan soothed. “I’ve got you.” He gently wiped the salty streaks from her flushed cheeks. Ran soothing fingers through her long golden waves. Held her so close to stave off any fears that he’d let her go. “I’ve got you,” he repeated.

Aelin nuzzled into the crook of his neck, too far past the ability to feel embarrassed over her tears seeping into his shirt collar and skin. Rowan didn’t seem to care anyways. So she sunk into him—reveled in the strength and warmth of his arms wrapped tightly around her. Tentatively allowed herself to be comforted by his unyielding presence. 

It wasn’t until her breathing had steadied and the dampness on her cheeks nearly dried that she pulled back to find eyes open and searching, a gentle caress across her face. 

She stared back, in disbelief of this man and his kindness and his heart. Always so stoic and broody to the outside world… but for whatever reason she’d always had a special pass to the softer, gentler parts of him. Gods knew she’d done nothing to earn that trust of vulnerability.

But she was… thankful, anyways. And she wanted him to know. She could at least give him this. 

Aelin swallowed then placed a gentle hand along his jaw. “Rowan…” she rasped, voice not sounding like her own, hoarse with spent emotion. 

The rest of her gratitudes died on her tongue. She wasn’t any good at these kinds of things. Aelin resolved to showing him then.

His eyes didn’t leave hers as she shifted on his lap, tilting his head back so she could lean over him. Their breaths mingled in the space between them, then Aelin pressed her lips to his. Rowan didn’t hesitate in returning the kiss, slow and deep.

Her mother used to always say Aelin was born with wildfire in her heart. Burning bright and wild, yielding to nothing and no one. Always one to unapologetically blaze her own trail. And oh, how far Aelin has fallen from that little girl once with wildfire. Her heart has been cold and shrouded in darkness for so long, she didn’t remember what it felt like to burn.

Until now. As Rowan breathed flame back into her and it crackled through her blood with every touch and brush of lips. This single kiss fractured her very foundation and reforged her anew. 

A prolonged moan fell from her lips as Rowan’s hands ran down her body then back up her bare thighs, smoothing around to knead and cup her ass. Using the leverage, he ground her thinly cladded core against his straining arousal and devoured the little gasps and whimpers coaxed from her. 

Aelin broke away and pressed open mouthed kisses along his strong jawline as deft fingers worked the front buttons of his dress shirt, only pausing for him to yank hers overhead. The second it was off, her mouth and hands were back on him—touching, licking, tasting. 

Her bra was next to go and Rowan soaked in the sight with pupils blown wide. He almost looked crazed with want, and hell—maybe he was. She surely was. 

The corner of her mouth tugged into a small smirk before tangling her fingers into his hair and guiding him back to her in a messy kiss. Rowan licked into her mouth and greedily swallowed her moan when his fingers slipped beneath the hem of her underwear. And he was so good.

All coherent thoughts fell away. Leaving her with just the feel of him beneath her—of them, moving together.

“Rowan,” she panted, hips rolling against his very skilled fingers. 

Small hands flitted over broad shoulders, across the expanse of firm chest, over thick biceps, into silvery tendrils—unable to decide where to land. Entirely overwhelmed with an incessant need for him—for more. 

Finally her hands landed on his belt buckle, then the button and zipper of his slacks. Shimmying them and his boxers down just enough to free his cock. Her mouth went dry at the sight of him, jutting proud and  head glistening with his desire. The urge to wrap her mouth around him pulsed through her. But first—

Aelin rose on her knees to align herself above him. Rowan’s eyes widened slightly and gripped her hips to keep her from sinking down.

“Aelin… like this?”

His eyes darted over their still half-clothed bodies then back up to her face as if he were asking, Here? She was sure he had a perfectly fine bed somewhere but Aelin swore she was going to die from scorching need if she didn’t have him in the next five seconds.

She didn’t need romantic gestures and soft mattresses. Just to be filled with him, consumed by him.

Aelin nodded emphatically. “Please.” Desperation to feel something—to connect—threatened to swallow her whole.

A look passed through the green depths of his eyes and she knew he understood. Rowan pressed a kiss to her sternum. “Okay, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Tell me how you need it.”

“Hard.”

Mischief glinted in his eyes as he smirked up at her and her stomach flipped. “As you wish.”

Rowan’s mouth crashed against hers in a bruising kiss—demanding, claiming. His thumb hooked and pulled aside the dainty lace that still covered her core, and guided her down onto his cock. 

A throaty whimper fell from her. The way he stretched her open fell just on the side of painful, stealing the breath from her lungs.

“Fuuuck, Aelin,” he groaned. “So fucking tight.”

Before she could fully adjust to his size, Rowan snapped his hips and set into a punishing pace. And she was glad for it—eager to be ruined by him.

Aelin’s head fell back with a cry.

All she could do was hold on, nails digging into beautiful bronze tattooed skin, and lose herself to the burn building within her. Nothing else mattered outside this moment, outside of them and the way he made the flames flicker and dance in her soul.

Rowan wound long gold tresses around a hand and tugged to draw her head back, keeping the hold on her hair taught. Aelin moaned and arched just as he nipped at the exposed skin before licking up the length of her throat.

“Rowan, please,” she begged. Desperate for a release that dangled just out of reach.

Rowan latched on to her pulse point and pressed a thumb to her clit, the added sensations just what she needed to be sent hurtling over the edge with his name singed on her lips.

His breaths turned jagged while he shook with restraint. “Again,” he ground out. Molten pleasure sparked through her core in response to the command. 

Aelin rolled her hips into his, milking the drag of his swollen cock along her oversensitive inner walls. All the while his ministrations didn’t falter, thumb still pressing tight circles against her clit. The the pleasure sharp and bordering too much.

Her nails dug deeper into his heated skin, she wouldn’t be surprised if she drew blood and— 

O-oH, gods!

Rowan grunted as her body began contracting around him again, and a prolonged moan fell from her lips as she drowned once more in a blanketed wave of pleasure. He thrusted one final time before spilling deep into her and joining her in bliss.

Golden waves tumbled down her back as Rowan finally released his hold. He sagged against the sofa cushions, bringing Aelin with him, both of them panting and boneless.

Minutes ticked past, maybe hours. It didn’t really matter as she’d lost all concept of time. Only aware of the warm drag of his fingers up and down her back; of  the soft brush of his lips against her temple. 

Rowan shifted beneath her, slipping out, then effortlessly hauled them both up from the sofa. Aelin’s legs wrapped around him as he carried her deeper into the apartment. 

A mattress gave way at her back as Rowan gently lowered her to the bed. He looked her over for a moment with shining eyes and a soft smile before wordlessly removing her remaining garments, leaving her fully bare before him. 

With eyes glued to her lithe body sprawled out across his bed, Rowan groaned in appreciation while discarding the rest of his own clothes. 

Aelin sucked in a breath. 

He was glorious standing there in the nude—all corded muscle, bronze skin, and tattoos. 

Heat reignited in her core. 

Rowan eased onto the bed and crawled slowly up her body, kissing and nipping along the way. Aelin stretched beneath him and arched into his touch. His hand ran up along her ribcage, thumb brushing the  underside of her breast.

“Gods, Aelin, you’re beautiful.” His reverence washed over her with gentle warmth.

She smiled lazily. “I know.”

Rowan snorted, a broad grin stretching across his handsome face. “There you are,” he murmured. 

Yes, there she was. With the whisper of a flame finally flickering back to life in her heart. 

The smile remained until Rowan leaned down to capture her awaiting lips once more. 

--

Masterlist

[maybeamiles]

Okay so something happened in the Honkai Star Rail community that really bothered me and I'm trying to put into words what makes me so upset about it.

So Hoyoverse recently hired a new voice actor named Chris Niosi to voice one of their new characters. He is no longer voicing this character. The reason he is no longer voicing this character is because a bunch of people found out that in 2019 Niosi released a shitty internet apology for being abusive to people in his personal life in response to callout posts on Twitter and Tumblr. During this time he also violated an NDA about a role he played in Fire Emblem 3 Houses, and was replaced with Zach Aguilar. He did not face any criminal charges for this behavior, but it is a thing that happened. Naturally people are upset about this and kept asking for him to be fired, and some VA's stood up for him claiming he'd changed, and fans began to lash out against them too. Niosi ended up resigning, and Hoyoverse will hire a new voice actor.

So far, it seems this controversy has not affected his work. Since 2019 he's played Reigen Arataka in Season 3 of Mob Psycho 100 and was an NPC in Genshin Impact.

Now I have a few problems with the community reaction to all this:

Problem number 1: I spent way too much time in the Dream SMP fandom, and have heard way too much bullshit about people being abusers in their personal lives to be ok with any of this. Like part of the reason Dream SMP was so awful is that every other week there would be a new post along the lines of "Dream is the Worst! Here are 7 Heavily Censored Screenshots To Prove Why!" This stuff instantly activates my "I don't like this" senses, I have a very bad reaction to these things.

Problem Number 2: He's a fucking actor. Just because he now has a bit of fame in the community doesn't mean he's somehow more worthy of criticism than he was before. Hell, he still has work in the industry. Just go look up his IMDB. The only reason it matters more in Star Rail is because a lot of the Hoyoverse VA's make extra money off of being Hoyoverse VA's, like how Dan Heng's VA gets the other Star Rail VA's together to do music covers. Even then, he's WORKED WITH HOYOVERSE BEFORE. THE ONLY DIFFERENCE IS THAT HE'S NOW VOICING A PLAYABLE CHARACTER INSTEAD OF AN NPC.

Problem number 3: Personally, I don't see what online abuse allegations from 2019 have to do with his role as a Voice Actor. Would working at McDonald's or in a less flashy job stop him from hurting people? No! Now, if I was hiring him, I would be nervous about that NDA violation, or that the abuse allegations might flare up into a PR disaster (like they ACTUALLY DID). I might not hire him for a major role. I might take concerns about his mistreatment of his colleagues more seriously. He might not be a Good Face for my company. But, at the end of the day, he is still a Guy Doing a Job, parasociality be dammned, and not doing This Job will not make anything better for the people he hurt.

(Also your (and my) favorite game has like, one not-pale dude in it and is made by a huge dev team that probably has shitty people in it just because that's what happens when you get a large enough group of people together but like heyyyyy let's all jump onto boogeyman of the week now shall we?)

(now, concerns about parasociality I do respect. Hoyoverse VA's are VERY parasocial, and tend to make a bit of extra money from fans by doing cool Hoyoverse VA things. But most people are like ABUSER = BAD AND GROSS and... ugh onto the next slide).

Problem number 4: ABUSER = BAD AND GROSS is a stupid black-and-white mindset and I think everyone who has this mindset should grow the fuck up. People can and do get better, I know people who have gotten better, people who it would be really fucked up of me to stop speaking to because of things I wasn't even alive for, when I don't even know the people who were hurt. People who have already had enough guilt and now need the space to live again. Hell, I've hurt people. You can't divide people into "good" and "bad" and you have to make room for change because if you do not you will hurt someone badly and that mindset will either break you with guilt or turn you into one of the "bad" people without even realizing it. (i reblogged earlier a comic about this exact phenomenon go read it)

At the end of the day I do think it was a good thing Niosi resigned because jesus fucking christ this was a PR disaster, and I would have hated to see him do something like Elliot Ghindi and use the parasociality of Hoyoverse fans to hurt more people (which is just a possibility, not something Niosi has actually done), but I don't think the internet Hate Mob was a good thing. I think bringing up someone's irrelevant personal details into their work life is a universally bad thing and even though he's a semi-public figure, nobody's private life should be exposed like that. There are court systems for a Fucking Reason and I know that they are flawed but also I genuinely believe that this whole internet tradition of making "callout posts" and stuff is incredibly toxic and abusive and I don't want it to keep happening in the fandoms I'm in.