#(because she’s Erin-coded)

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Spilled Ink

Pairing: Tattoo Artist Marcus Pike x f!reader

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: Uhhh Marcus Pike as the world's softest tattoo artist that's it that's the fic.

Warnings: Lots of tattoo talk, obviously, which includes needles, tattoo guns, pain, mention of bleeding, etc.; reader is explicitly coded as neurodivergent because I said so; yearning; lots of kissing; Marcus Pike being a goddamn menace and he fucking knows it

A/N: @kedsandtubesocks made a post about Tattoo Artist Marcus Pike (original post HERE) and then I wrote 7.5k words in 12 hours, as one does. All credit for the idea goes to the amazing Erika who entrusted me with this idea and THANK GOD SHE DID because I don't think I could have gotten it out of my stupid brain otherwise. Header pics credit go to Erin @perotovar, who made these with Tattoo Artist Marcus Pike in mind and I'm just WOOFWOOFBARKBARKBARKBARKHOWL. Thanks also to @littlebirdsbookshelf who suffers through HOURS of me sending screenshots every time I write anything. Love you <3

Additional Note on Canon: I am pretending that we never got to see Marcus Pike in short sleeves in the show despite it happening twice. He has full sleeves on both his arms in this fic that he covered up during his time working at the FBI. Because sleeves are hot and I said so.

Masterlist

It’s not unusual, these days, to wander down the sidewalk staring at your phone. Some people are texting. Some people are reading the news–because hey, this is D.C. Others, like you on this brisk morning, are watching the little blue dot on a tiny representation of the city streets, trying to find the address you had typed into the search bar.

A text box pops up, informing you of your arrival, and you finally look up.

No wonder it took you so long to find the place–it’s hardly what you expected at all. You always picture tacky neon signs, bars on the windows, undesirables milling about on the street, smoking cigarettes.

Okay, so you admittedly don’t actually know much about tattoos.

All you know is that you want one–a fact you confessed to a friend over lunch the other week: a conversation that led you here.

“Okay, so get one,” she had said bluntly.

“It’s not all that simple,” you had protested. 

“Why?”

“It’s just… it seems like a lot. Mentally. Physically. I’m not sure I have what it takes.”

“They don’t hurt that bad,” your friend had insisted.

“I’m not just talking about that, I’m talking about… y’know, just everything. The noise. New people. Strangers touching me. It just doesn’t seem like something I’ll be able to do.”

“Oh. Ohhh. Because of the… yep. Actually I might have something for you,” she said, taking out her phone and scrolling through that app that drives you crazy–it’s overstimulation in a convenient package–full of noise, chaos, and flashing lights. 

She must have seen you pull a face, because she held out her hand placatingly. 

“Just finding the name of the place, hang on. It’s a shop right here in DC that went ‘viral’ for this video of a guy with autism who wanted a tattoo to commemorate his dad, but he was only comfortable lying on the floor–so the tattoo artist just… got on the floor with him! It was really cute, and anyway I guess he caters to all sorts of people, so… I dunno. Check it out.”

And here you are. Checking it out.

The words “Government-Issued Ink” are spelled out on large windows, and the punny name–apt for its location not far from the Capitol–makes you snort. 

The shop is bright, warm, and inviting–tearing down your outdated preconceptions that tattoo places must always be run-down, dark, and dingy. It’s also empty this early in the morning, save for a lone figure in the back, seated at a well-worn desk, his head pitched forward over his work.

He’s so enveloped in whatever he’s sketching that he must not have heard the light ringing of the bell as you had entered. You watch him for a few moments–taking in the graceful movements of his hand and the way his fingers grasp the pen. He’s dressed in a plain blue button-down dress shirt, which also doesn’t fit your assumed archetype of ‘Tattoo Artist.’ You can’t see his face; his head is leaning forward too much and a few short locks of dark brown hair obscure your view.

Suddenly wondering if you’re being incredibly rude, staring at someone without announcing your presence, you open your mouth to introduce yourself.

“Um.”

While not exactly eloquent, it serves its purpose. The man startles and looks up in surprise.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, jumping to his feet and letting the pen clatter carelessly to the desk. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“That’s okay,” you shake your head rapidly. “I was, um…” You blink a few times, your nerves getting the better of you as the man comes around his desk to approach the front of the store.

“Interested in a walk-in consultation?” he offers, holding out his hands in a gesture that could either be an open invitation or a shrug.

“I don’t know,” you confess quietly. “I was thinking about getting, uh, a tattoo, and I was told this shop was… good. With tattoos. And other stuff.”

“Other stuff?” he chuckles, smiling warmly. 

“You know… with people who… might not be good at getting tattoos.”

“What makes you think you aren’t ‘good at getting tattoos?’”

“A hunch,” you shrug, expelling a little huff of laughter through your nose. “I was told to ask for a Marcus Pike?”

The man’s smile widens. “You’re looking at him.”

Oh. You aren’t sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this. Marcus Pike is well-dressed and clean-cut, almost startlingly so. You scan up and down, looking for any sign that this man could possibly be a tattoo artist, but the only evidence you can find is a small black target inked between his thumb and forefinger on his right hand. Don’t… tattoo artists usually have more ink? Of course, with him almost completely covered from head to toe, you obviously can’t create a full picture of Marcus’s skin, but the fact that he wouldn’t look out of place in one of the nearby government buildings still takes you by surprise.

You realize you haven’t said anything in response, but Marcus doesn’t seem to be bothered by your deer-in-headlights stare. Instead, he grins again and steps sideways, extending his arm in a silent invitation to come deeper into the shop.

“Come on in. If you’d like, go ahead and sit wherever you want, and we can talk about it. No pressure,” he promises. “I’m not here to push ink on you like a used car salesman; I’m here to collaborate with you. Figure out what you really want. And, if what you want ends up being ‘nothing,’ I totally support that, too.”

There’s something innate and intrinsic about Marcus Pike that sets you completely at-ease. You cast your eyes around, taking in the eclectic seating in the shop–all mismatched, all different colors, styles, and shapes, but all looking incredibly comfortable and inviting. You settle on a giant turquoise beanbag that seems to swallow you whole when you sink down into it, and Marcus grins and sits down in the bright yellow saucer chair beside it. 

“So at the very least, you’re thinking about a tattoo,” Marcus leads. “Can you tell me about that?”

You nod, feeling encouraged by his openness. “Yeah, so… my mom, she passed away a couple of years ago, and it just seemed like I should… memorialize her in some way. Like, in a way that leaves its mark on me like she left a mark on me, and I just couldn’t stop thinking about the idea of getting some kind of permanent art that commemorates her.”

“That’s a great idea,” Marcus says softly. “Lots of people choose to do that after losing a loved one.”

“Yeah, the only problem is that I’m not good with um… noise, or people touching me, or… pain, really,” you confess. “I’m like, the worst candidate for getting a tattoo that exists.”

Marcus chuckles softly and shakes his head. “Personally, I don’t believe that. I think anyone can get a tattoo done if they want it, provided they get it done in a way that feels safe and comfortable.”

“My friend, she uh, recommended your shop because apparently you’ve done some stuff for people with autism and it went viral on TikTok…” you ramble, “and I thought maybe that meant you’d be a good fit for… for me.”

Understanding flickers in Marcus’s expression, and he nods, a small smile spreading across his face. “I hope so,” he says with quiet earnesty. 

A beat passes–just a few seconds of silence–but something small and soft and warm settles down between the two of you, and the comforting feeling sinks down into the pit of your stomach and stays there, latent and waiting.

“So, let’s talk design,” Marcus announces. “Do you have anything in mind? Any images or ideas, however vague? I can do anything from replicating designs to building something completely from scratch for you.”

“I like the idea of it being a unique piece,” you tell him.

“I prefer original designs too,” he says. “Not to sound incredibly cheesy, but there’s no one like you, you know? In–In the general sense, of course.” He chuckles sheepishly, looking down at his hands. “I like knowing each person that comes in here leaves with something unique. Something all their own—I’m rambling,” he says quickly, the tips of his ears turning slightly pink. “One thing about me is that I talk too much. Anyway–did you have any ideas you can share with me about what you’d like?”

“I don’t have a good image in my mind,” you confess anxiously. After all, how can he build a design based on the swirling, disjointed images in your brain? “I think I want it to be colorful, like she was. And… I keep getting thoughts about, I dunno, the cyclical nature of life, something corny like that.”

Marcus laughs. “Sometimes the corny stuff is what sticks with us. So, colorful and commenting on the cyclical nature of life,” he lists off on his fingers, still grinning. “Anything else?”

“I’ve looked through your galleries online,” you tell him. “You have a few that look like watercolor paintings, and I really love how they look.”

He nods thoughtfully. “I’m gonna throw out an idea—Feel free to tell me ‘no,’ because I’m just brainstorming here, but I keep thinking about a tree of life. The leaves could easily be done in watercolor and could be any combination of colors you want.” His right hand twitches–as if reaching for a phantom pen–as he speaks, and his gaze seems to be fixed on a spot on the wall, his eyes glimmering with enthusiasm as he starts to speak faster.

“You could have the leaves and the roots connecting on the sides, making a circle, maybe even having her birth date and death date embedded in the roots…” He blinks rapidly a few times, as if dispelling the image from his head. “Anyway. That’s a possibility.”

“I think that’s amazing,” you say softly, watching Marcus with something like amazement in your expression. “Actually… I really like that idea. It sounds… perfect.”

“Oh,” he intones softly, looking at you in surprise as a bright, toothy smile breaks across his face. “Oh. Well then, let’s do it, huh? One final question: where do you envision getting it?”

“I was thinking on my shoulder. Here,” you indicate, pressing your hand to the skin of your upper arm. “That way it’s visible when I want it to be, but easily hidden if for some reason it needs to be.”

“That’s perfect,” Marcus says. “Plus, the circular design will go really well there. Okay. Great. Um, some things to know about the process. We’ll exchange emails, and you can contact me at any time with any questions, concerns, ideas, changes, anything. In the meantime, I’ll get started on a design for you, and I’ll share initial sketches that you can give feedback on before I move to the final stages of the design. It’ll take a couple of weeks, maximum, depending on any changes you ask for. My only request is that you’re always honest with your feedback–don’t tell me you like something when you don’t. I promise, it won’t hurt my feelings.” He grins widely. “After that, you book an appointment on a day that works best for you. I almost always book the whole day for the appointment to factor in time for copious breaks and making sure you feel comfortable. Does that work for you?”

You nod eagerly.

“Last question,” Marcus says. “Is it okay if I get a close-up picture of your upper arm? That way I can make sure it fits the curvature of your arm, it’s the right size, stuff like that.”

“Mhmm,” you nod again, pressing your lips together and trying not to look nervous. Thank god you wore a sleeveless top under your sweater.

“Only if you’re comfortable,” he insists.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you say quickly, removing just the one arm from your outer layer and pulling it aside. 

You watch as Marcus grabs a little ‘point-and-shoot’ digital camera from his desk and comes back to your side.

“This is just used for design purposes,” he promises. “I delete them after the design is done.”

“I trust you.”

His resulting expression could light an entire room. “Thank you,” he answers quietly. “Okay. Super close-up, just your arm. Cool?”

“Cool,” you confirm, and you hear the camera click several times.

“Actually,” Marcus says, still staring thoughtfully at your bare shoulder. “Would it be okay if I made a couple of little marks–washable marker, of course–to make sure the dimensions are how you want them?”

Oh. You normally don’t like it when people touch you. You knew it was going to happen eventually, obviously, because how else was he going to get the design onto your skin? But it was something you had planned on working yourself up to, not something you had to do today. On the other hand, something about Marcus’s entire bearing makes you inexplicably ache to be touched by him. 

“‘No’ is an acceptable response,” he interrupts your dithering with a quiet reassurance.

And actually, that works to seal the deal for you, and your decision is made in an instant. 

“Yes. You can. That’s fine.” And, to your surprise, you mean it.

Marcus seems just as surprised at your answer–his eyebrows shoot upward almost comically at your response.

“Okay,” he says softly. “That’s perfect. Hang on.” He jumps up again to retrieve a black marker–from what was clearly a children’s set of washable markers. He meets your eyes, and again you take in that sincere, earnest, patient look that endeared you to this man from the moment you entered the little shop.

“Is it okay if I touch your arm?” he asks quietly, still watching you carefully as you nod.

“Tell me if that changes,” he murmurs, dropping his gaze to your shoulder again. His touch, when you feel it, is just as warm as you’d imagined. He’s gentle, cautious, and when he speaks again, his voice remains at that same, soft volume and tone. “I’m envisioning being from about here–” he makes a little black dot, “–to here. What do you think?” 

You nod. It’s the perfect size–large enough to cover your shoulder but stopping just above the point where the sleeve of a regular t-shirt would hit.

“That’s perfect.”

“Okay, so that’s–” he tsks softly, measuring the distance with his finger, “–about four inches, so that same distance across, and–” he makes two more marks on either side of your shoulder. “About like that. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” you answer, smiling with enthusiasm. 

“Great! Let me just…” Marcus draws a few short lines denoting the proposed boundary of your design, and you can’t help the soft giggle that escapes you at the cool tip of the marker on your skin. 

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “One more picture?”

At your nod, the camera clicks one last time. 

“Like I said, that’ll wash off with soap, no problem,” he promises with a smile. “Thanks for that, makes it easier to scale.” He grabs two business cards off his desk and hands them to you. “Can you write your email on this one for me? And you can keep the other one. Like I said, anything you need, just email me. And uh, barring that, you’ll be hearing from me in a week or so with a rough sketch. Okay?”

You scribble down your email and hand the card back to Marcus before pulling your sweater back over your bare arm. You slip the other card into your purse and rise to your feet. “Thanks,” you say, nodding to him.

“Hey, no–thank you,” Marcus returns. “Thanks for entrusting me with this. I mean it.”

Surprising yourself, you extend your hand toward him, and, when he takes it, you feel enveloped with warmth again.

“Thanks,” repeat, a little bit more breathlessly this time, before turning and hurrying out of the shop before you can embarrass yourself any further.

Your shoulder still tingles from his touch hours later.

Rather than it being a week before you hear from him, you receive an email from Marcus Pike just three days later.

Subject: Initial Sketch

Hello,

Please see attached. It’s just pencil for now, but I made a note of the general blocks of color I was thinking for the leaves. You’ll see what I mean when you open the file. Sorry, I know it’s a pretty rough sketch, I was just excited to get this to you. I look forward to your feedback!

Best regards,

Marcus :) 

Eagerly, you open the attachment. First of all, there’s nothing “rough” about the sketch other than the fact that it’s just penciled in. The details are already so intricate, and you find yourself smiling in amazement as you take in the design.

It’s beautiful.

Brackets, each labeled with a different color in Marcus’s neat, tidy handwriting, surround the top of the tree. Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue. Violet. 

At the bottom of the image is another handwritten note: *All the colors will blend together and the result should look like a rainbow.

Tears spring, unbidden, to your eyes, as you feverishly type out your response.

Subject: Re: Initial Sketch

Marcus,

I really don’t know what to say other than it’s perfect. It’s absolutely perfect. Made me tear up. Look forward to seeing it in color.

Thanks again!

Not even five minutes go by before your phone vibrates with another email.

Subject: Re: Re: Initial Sketch

I’m sorry if I made you cry! Obviously wasn’t my intention but I’m glad the design evokes emotion :) I’ll move forward with the design as-is and you should hear from me soon with a full-color image.

Marcus :) 

You can’t wait. The next week and a half stretches out excruciatingly, but finally, on a Wednesday evening, you receive another email. 

Subject: Final Design

Hey there!

Hope you’ve been doing well. Thought you might like to see the final design of your tattoo ;) See attached and let me know if anything needs to be changed. Be critical! Don’t hold anything back! Once we agree on a final piece, we’ll get you on the calendar.

Best regards,

Marcus :) 

Your mind skims over the fact that Marcus used a winking-face emoji in your email, because you honestly aren’t equipped to process that right now, and open the attachment instead. This time, you start crying in earnest. It’s perfect. The colors are so vibrant, and they make the tree look as though it’s in a constant state of movement. Your mom’s birth and death dates are entwined seamlessly into the roots themselves, in a way that makes them not readily apparent at first glance, but seeming to just appear out of nowhere upon further inspection. 

Subject: Re: Final Design

Marcus,

If I had any critical feedback, I would share it, I promise. But I have nothing. This is everything I’d imagined and more, and it means the world to me.

Thank you so much.

After a few more messages back and forth, you settle on a date one month out. 

You can’t wait.

As excited as you’ve been for the past month, when you step foot back into Marcus’s little tattoo parlor, the air of finality makes your body thrum with anxiety.

You’re really doing this.

Marcus is at the back of the shop, busying himself with setting up his workspace when you enter. Today, he’s wearing a dark green henley that looks just as soft as he is, and seems to complement his features even more. As soon as he hears the chimes, his head snaps up, and he grins widely. 

“Hey!” he calls out excitedly. “Just getting everything ready. Do you want something to drink before we get started? I’ve got water, juice, soda…” he trails off, waving his hand in the direction of a mini-fridge in the corner. 

“I’m okay for now.”

“Sounds good, but when we take a break, you should have some juice or something else with a bit of sugar in it, okay?” You nod, and he continues. “Okay! Where do you want to sit?”

“Don’t I have to sit in the chair over there?” you ask, gesturing to the traditional chair and bench near Marcus’s work table. 

“Not at all,” he protests. “The table is mobile, I bring it to wherever you feel comfortable.”

“Oh,” you say dumbly. “I’ll go ahead and sit in the chair, though.” Of all the options, it looks like the easiest–you aren’t entirely sure how Marcus would be able to comfortably tattoo you whilst sitting on a bean bag chair. 

“Your choice,” he insists, spreading his hands out in an open and unguarded stance.

You settle in the chair and he sits down on a rolling stool beside you. 

“Okay, so I’ve got a stencil of your design here,” Marcus says, holding up a paper with an outline of the tree for you to see. “It’ll transfer onto your skin exactly how you want it to go, and I’ll just trace it. Make sense?”

“Yep,” you nod.

“Before I do that, though, I have to make sure nothing interferes with the design, including tiny little hairs.” He holds up a pink safety razor. “Are you comfortable with me doing this for you?”

At your tentative nod of consent, Marcus leans forward and gently swipes the razor up and down your shoulder until he’s satisfied. His eyes dart between your skin and your face the entire time–making sure you’re still with him. After he’s done, he talks you through the stencil–confirming its location, gently applying it to your shoulder, and then holding up a mirror for you to approve. 

“It’s great,” you whisper excitedly.

Marcus returns your smile and begins to absentmindedly roll up his sleeves in preparation to start working–-and the question about tattoos that you’d asked yourself upon first seeing the man is suddenly and unexpectedly answered.

You can’t help the soft sound of surprise that escapes from you when you catch the colorful patchwork of designs on both of his forearms, disappearing under the pushed-up henley and suggesting that they go all the way up. 

Marcus catches you staring and grins, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

“I didn’t know,” you say softly. “You keep them covered up.”

“Force of habit,” Marcus shrugs. “I had a desk job for a long time.”

“Doing what?” you ask, curiously. You can’t see the man doing anything but this.

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” he jokes, winking in your direction. 

Ignoring how the wink makes your heart stutter in your chest, you bark out a laugh at his answer. “What? Were you like a secret agent or something?” you tease.

“Special Agent,” he corrects, grinning. 

“Get out,” you deadpan. “I can’t imagine you as a Fed.”

Marcus shrugs, giving you another one of his boyish, crooked smiles. “Would’ve been fifteen years this year had I not finally seen the writing on the wall and run for the hills a couple of years ago.”

“What made you leave?” 

He laughs softly, shaking his head. “That’s a long story. How sensitive are you to noise?” he asks, abruptly changing the subject.

“Uh, I dunno. Kind of depends on the day and the situation,” you shrug.

“Fair. Well, I usually let newcomers listen to what the gun actually sounds like, so there are no surprises. If it’s too loud, I do have noise canceling headphones.”

And miss out on hearing Marcus’s soft-spoken reassurances? No matter how loud the tattoo gun is, you’d rather endure it just to be able to hear him talk. 

Marcus turns the instrument on, and the room is filled with a mild buzzing sound. On your worst days, admittedly, it would probably grate upon your nerves, but you’re feeling relaxed, comfortable, and excited about your new tattoo.

“It’s not bad,” you tell him truthfully. 

“Perfect,” he grins. “Are you all set to get started?”

Heart rate increasing with pleasant anticipation, you nod giddily. 

“I’m obviously gonna be touching your arm a lot,” Marcus says, “so let me know if you need a break from that, the noise, the needle, anything.” Seeing your solemn nod, he continues. “I’m gonna do a little dot right here to let you see how it feels, okay?” He gently touches his index finger to your skin to indicate where. 

“Okay.”

The gun turns on again, and Marcus presses it lightly against your skin for just a second before pulling back.

“...That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“I thought it would hurt more,” you confess.

Marcus laughs. “Well, the same feeling over and over again in a small area can start to be pretty uncomfortable. I’ll check in regularly to make sure you’re still doing fine. Good?”

You smile widely. “I’m really excited.”

His smile softens, his gaze becoming warmer and more tender. “I’m glad.”

His other hand gently cradles your arm as Marcus leans in, a look of intense concentration settling over his features as he begins the design. Engrossed in his work, you take the time to study his forearms. They’re a hodgepodge of designs, clearly done at different times and by different artists, but you can see themes throughout. He likes classic styles, you can tell, and in between some of the more traditional works you can see beautiful references to an assortment of famous paintings. A Dali melting clock here. A sunflower clearly inspired by Van Gogh there. On his opposite bicep, you can just barely make out the side of one design that looks like it might be of a Greek statue. Tilting your head, you realize it’s Nike alighting on the bow of a warship, and you inhale sharply. That’s one of your favorite sculptures.

“Still okay?” Marcus asks, glancing up at you with concern in his eyes.

“Sorry.” You shake your head quickly. 

“Just checking,” he says softly. “Try to be just a little more still, okay?”

“Sorry,” you repeat, laughing sheepishly. 

“Don’t be, you’re doing great.”

You try to fight the way your entire body seems to grow warm at Marcus’s praise, but you can’t stop the way the feeling stampedes through you. You’re being ridiculous, you chastise yourself. He’s doing his job, and you’re getting all moony-eyed.

In order to distract yourself, you continue playing ‘Spot the Famous Artwork’ on Marcus’s sleeves–although, as distractions go, it’s not your best work. You can’t help but focus in on the way his forearm cords with muscle as he holds the tattoo gun, controlling each movement so delicately and precisely, creating a beautiful, intricate design on your shoulder.

After finding a bit of yellow patchwork that's clearly a reference to Gustav Klimt's The Kiss near his right elbow, you break your silence.

“You like art, huh?”

It seems like a stupid thing to say to a fucking tattoo artist of all people, and you immediately kick yourself internally for saying something so obvious. 

Marcus glances up, and, seeing how your eyes are focused on his own ink, smiles. “Always have,” he murmurs, returning his gaze to your shoulder. “Some of those are years-old.”

“Is that how you got into being a tattoo artist?” you ask.

“Sort of,” he answers, brow pinched in concentration as he continues working. “I uh, apprenticed for a shop in college to pay the bills before going to Quantico for training.”

“You’re really talented,” you tell him. “I was surprised to find out you haven’t been doing this your whole life.”

Marcus hums his appreciation as he carefully fills in a root. 

“Can I ask what made you join the FBI instead of opening your own place after college?”

He huffs a little laugh through his nose. “Parents would have killed me, going to college and then doing nothing with it.”

“Running a small business isn’t exactly doing nothing,” you point out.

“Well, public opinion on tattoos wasn’t what it is now,” Marcus says. “They were scandalized by my apprenticeship, but it paid the bills, so they couldn’t complain too loudly.”

“Was it them who wanted you to join the FBI?”

“Mm, not so much,” he murmurs. “It was more like ‘whatever you want to do, so long as you can make a lucrative career out of it.’ Being an artist wasn’t one of those things, so in lieu of becoming one myself, I decided I wanted to protect them instead.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Protect them how?”

Marcus grins up at you and waggles his eyebrows playfully. “Art crimes,” he answers. “Being an art detective was kind of in the limelight in the early ‘nineties after the famous Gardner Museum theft, and I got swept up in the craze.”

“So you spent the last fifteen-ish years recovering stolen art,” you fill in for him.

“Stolen, forged, looted, illegally traded or smuggled…” Marcus offers, not breaking his concentration again. He wasn’t wrong–the repeated drag of the needle across what felt like the same square centimeter of your skin was starting to wear on you. 

“Uh-huh,” you say, forcing the discomfort out of your tone.

Noticing the tightness in your voice immediately, Marcus’s movements stop. “Feeling okay?”

You shrug.

The gun switches off.

“You gotta be honest about how you’re feeling,” he reminds you. “I might be able to create designs based off of customers’ vague descriptions, but that doesn’t make me a mind-reader.”

“It’s a little uncomfortable, but I can endure it,” you insist.

“There’s no need to endure something that’s painful,” Marcus argues with an amused smile. “Even if it involves choosing to repeatedly jamming a needle into your skin.”

You can’t help but laugh, and your heart swells when he joins you.

“C’mere,” he says. “Let me show you something.”

You let him lead you to the other side of the shop, where he stops in front of a large storage cabinet that you'd assumed held various supplies. When he opens it, however, you find that isn’t the case at all.

No, the entire cabinet is filled to the brim with a collection of stuffed animals just as eclectic and varied as the furniture. There's also a couple of shoeboxes filled with every manner of fidget toy you could ever imagine. 

"You can grab one, if you want. I know it might feel kind of goofy, but I promise they help with the pain."

"Okay," you breathe. Your gaze lingers first on the IKEA shark, then on a very soft-looking cactus with an adorable grumpy expression, but when your gaze lands on the largest and arguably oddest toy in the collection, your hands can't help but move toward it. 

"The big guy, huh?" Marcus laughs, taking the giant squid off of the shelf and placing it in your arms. You have to laugh at how large and ungainly it is; its massive black eyes stare vacantly back at you, but the effect is dopey, rather than menacing. 

"Where do you get all of these?" you ask in amazement. 

"Most of them are gifts from past clients, including that one," Marcus says, indicating the squid. "But I think he originally came from the Smithsonian. I was told his name is 'Cthulhu, Lord of the Deep.'"

"Thank you," you say in a small, appreciative voice.

"'S'fine," Marcus shrugs. "Feel up to continuing?"

You nod, looking down at your partially-inked shoulder. "Guess you didn't get very far before I had to stop," you remark, somewhat self-deprecatingly. 

"It's not a race," your artist says earnestly. "We've got the whole day, and we go at your pace. You're paying me, after all." Another wink in your direction.

"Yeah," you nod, confidence growing again. "Yeah, okay." You plop down in your seat, with Cthulhu in your lap, and Marcus takes his place beside you. 

“Gonna turn this back on again,” he announces as the now-familiar buzz fills the room, “and I’m gonna touch your arm–” his fingers wrap warmly and gently around your skin, “–annnd here we go.” 

The needle scratches insistently against your skin, but it isn’t so bad–not really, not with the hilarious giant squid on your lap and Marcus’s gentle, soothing voice in your ear. He talks while he works, sometimes asking you questions about your own life–to which he listens intently and always seems to have follow-up questions–and sometimes telling you stories of his own. You discuss art, obviously, but also music, books, movies, and baseball of all things.

You find yourself wondering if he has this type of easy rapport with everyone who comes in, but you assume he must. He might be the most disarming person you’ve ever met, and it’s hardly a stretch to believe he’s like this with everyone. Still, there’s an ugly, jealous part of you that wishes the connection between you was unique, special. That he’s only this warm with you. 

Marcus was right–squeezing the stuffed toy on your lap is a perfect distraction from the discomfort of the needle, and before long, the sensation fades into the background. As the time drags on, though, the persistent drone of the tattoo gun causes an ache to creep in and settle between your eyes. You take in a deep breath through your nose, count to three, and exhale slowly through your mouth.

Marcus glances up, watching you for a split-second before cutting power to the gun and stretching his back with a satisfied sigh. 

“Break time,” he announces. “Hand’s getting a bit sore.” He shoots you a knowing glance and another one of those crooked smiles. “And you should probably have a little something to drink, maybe a snack.”

“Yeah, thanks,” you say gratefully as he walks over to the little fridge.

“Apple juice?” he asks, holding up a little juice box that looks slightly comical in his large hands. When you nod enthusiastically, he hands it to you.

His fingers brush yours.

If it were anyone else, you’d recoil, but it’s him. It might just be the forced proximity, but…

You’re developing quite the crush on Marcus Pike.

Shoving the thought aside for the moment, you stab the straw into the little hole and take a long sip. Marcus settles down beside you with his own choice–a little can of vegetable juice–and holds it up in a silent ‘cheers.’

Feeling emboldened, you ask the question that’s been burning in your mind since you started.

“So what made you leave the whole ‘helping other artists’ thing behind and start a tattoo business instead?”

Marcus presses his lips together, and for a moment, you fear you’ve crossed a boundary. Just before you’re about to apologize profusely, though, he speaks.

“Have you ever just… woken up one morning, and realized that everything you were working toward, everything you thought you wanted in life… was a lie?”

“I… I don’t know,” you confess quietly, surprised at the emotion behind his words.

“Happened to me,” he laughs softly. “I had moved to DC for what I thought was my dream job, with who I thought was–” he shakes his head, as though dispelling an unpleasant thought. “I had spent my entire life checking boxes: College degree? Check. Well-paying job? Check. House? Check. Check, check check. I spent so much time trying to get ahead, like life was some kind of game to be won. If I said all the right things, did all the right things, if I did everything right… I’d have the life I wanted.”

“What was the life you wanted?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“It was bullshit, is what it was. Saw one too many rom-coms as a kid, I suppose. I thought I was after the picket fence, the dog, the wife and two-point-five kids, that sort of thing. And one morning I woke up, realized that… that relentless pursuit of something I couldn’t even hold–it was all bullshit.”

“So you just… quit?”

“I quit. I wanted to create things again. I wanted to feel inspired. After a bit of uh… frantic soul-searching before I ran out of money entirely, I sold my stupid, too-big condo that I hated and bought this shop instead.”

“Did it work?”

“Well, I’m not bankrupt yet,” Marcus says dryly.

“No, I mean… did you feel inspired again?”

“I did. I do. So very much so,” he says, his voice soft and gentle. His eyes flick up to meet yours, and that comfortable warmth that had settled in between you the first time you had met him… grows. Mutates. Until the warm, tingling feeling feels a lot more like electricity.

An unspoken moment seems to pass through you, but then Marcus clears his throat roughly, setting the empty can aside and standing again, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Wanna keep going?”

Breathlessly, you nod. 

In no time at all, you’re settled back in the chair with one of Marcus’s warm, strong, large hands cradling your arm as the other gently wields the tattoo gun. As he starts to fill in and blend the colors, the pain starts to increase, and you worry one of the fuzzy tentacles back and forth in your hand as you grit your teeth.

“I know, I know,” Marcus soothes quietly. “The color’s the worst part, but you’re being so good for me.”

It helps you to watch him work, so you do. He’s blending in the colors now, and you watch with interest as it starts to take shape. It’s so mesmerizing that you hardly even notice the buzz of the gun or the light sting of the needle anymore.

“And you said you ‘weren’t good at tattoos,’” he teases gently, noticing your obvious interest. 

“Did I say that?” you laugh, teasing back.

“I believe your words were, ‘I’m like the worst candidate for getting a tattoo that exists.’” he reminds you. “And look at you now, huh?”

You duck your head at his praise, unable to withstand the intensity and honesty in his gaze.

“Doing okay after all, I guess,” you say with a sheepish smile.

“You’re doing amazing,” Marcus corrects, smiling warmly. “The type of client any artist dreams of.”

You don’t know how to respond to the things this man says to you. Stunned and at a loss for words, you stare awkwardly at your hand where it still wraps around Cthulhu, Lord of the Deep.

“I’m sorry.” The words are soft, concerned. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just meant that your enthusiasm and your curiosity is the stuff that makes me want to be an artist in the first place.”

“Are you saying I inspire you?” you try to tease, but it falls flat.

Just audibly, over the hum of the tattoo gun, you hear his whispered response. 

“Yes.” 

As Marcus wipes away the last of the stray ink on the purple bit of tree, the tattoo gun suddenly switches off. The silence is almost shocking, and you blink rapidly in confusion.

“Break time?” you ask.

Marcus chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. “It’s all done.”

“It is?” you ask, although you can see the answer for yourself in the large mirrored wall to your right. 

“How’s it feel?” he asks.

“My arm kind of aches,” you confess, “but oh my God, Marcus… it’s beautiful.”

It’s his turn to preen under your praise, the tips of his ears blushing pink as he grins back at you.

“I’m glad you like it,” he says softly. “Here, let me give you a little something for the pain.” 

He squeezes a glob of light-green cooling gel and coats the angry skin with the barest of touches. “Still okay?” he asks, glancing up at you for confirmation.

After the harshness of the needle, the soft press of his fingers is more soothing than ever, and you have to resist the urge to sigh and melt into his touch. 

“Yes,” you whisper.

“You’re going to want to keep this covered for a couple of hours, up to overnight,” Marcus says as he carefully applies a dressing to your shoulder–still softly, but more businesslike than before as he walks you through all of the instructions for care. “Once you take this off tomorrow, you’ll probably see some fluid leaking from it–that’s totally normal. It’s blood, plasma, and extra ink, and it should stop after a few days before it starts to scab over.

 “You’ll want to keep it from drying out; I’d recommend scent-free, dye-free lotion if you don’t already have some,” he continues. “Wash it twice a day and put lotion on after. When it starts to scab, I can’t stress this enough: don’t pick the scabs.” He gives you a serious look. “Repeat that back to me.”

“Don’t pick the scabs.”

“If you do, you could cause it to scar, or even pull out the ink. One more time for me,” he prompts, and you get the feeling that this is always the sticking point in his speech.

“Don’t pick the scabs,” you repeat.

“It’ll take three to four months for the lower layers of skin to completely heal,” Marcus tells you. “During that time, keep it out of the sun, keep it hydrated, and you’re in the clear.”

“And don’t pick the scabs,” you say teasingly. 

Marcus winks at you. “Exactly. Any other questions for me?”

“No, just… thank you. It’s amazing,” you tell him. “You did such an incredible job.”

“Hard not to, when I have such a beautiful canvas.”

Your eyes dart up, expecting to see a teasing glint in his eyes, but all you can see is heartfelt sincerity. You swallow thickly, and he tracks the movement, his eyes dropping down, then back up to meet your eyes. Is it… not just you? Does he feel it, too? Realization slams through you and threatens to overload all of your systems. Marcus’s lips are parted slightly, and the look in his eyes… it’s desire.

“Marcus…”

“Wait,” he says urgently. “Hang on. Come… come over here for a minute, let me–” he dashes awkwardly over to the till on the counter and gives you your total. Frowning in confusion–he wants to do this now? Interrupting that electric moment that had passed between you?–you dutifully swipe your card and numbly take the receipt.

“Now you’re no longer my client,” Marcus explains softly. “I–sorry–I was about to throw caution to the wind and kiss you, and I didn’t… I didn’t want to be unethical, I–”

“Yes,” you say simply, giving your response to his un-asked question.

It’s all he needs to stride forward, gently take your face in his warm palms, and, seeing no hesitation in your eyes even as he searches your face desperately—presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is as soft and as tender as the man himself, which hardly surprises you. Your eyes slip closed as his lips move against you with aching caution. He’s careful in all things, including this–taking your cues, giving you the lead, letting you feel everything he’s giving you.

All too quickly, he pulls back–but his eyes only sweep your face again, a growing smile on his lips as he sees nothing but want reflected back at him. 

When he lowers his lips to yours again, he’s less gentle. One large hand leaves your face too hook around your waist, pulling you closer, closer–and when the proximity causes you to gasp softly, Marcus is ready. His tongue gently slips between your parted lips and you practically melt into him. When your knees buckle, his strong arms are what keep you standing upright, and still–

He can’t seem to stop kissing you. 

You break before he does–pulling back to suck in a few shaky, heaving breaths, and he smiles through his own labored breathing.

“I wanted–I–” he begins, before hastily pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth as if he can’t help but do so. 

“I’ve thought of you,” he tries again. “I thought of you like this for the last month,” the confession finally spills out. “I wanted to–wanted to kiss you so badly all day, but I couldn’t. Couldn’t let myself.” He kisses you again. “But now,” he promises, whispering the words against your mouth. “Now I’m gonna get my fill.”

To punctuate his statement with one of your own, you slant your head and deepen the kiss, wrapping one hand around Marcus’s neck and pulling him closer still. He makes a soft noise in his throat, and the grip on your waist tightens. You lose yourself completely to the feel of his tongue sliding slowly against yours, until he suddenly pulls back.

“I’m doing this all wrong,” he whispers–although he’s still smiling. “I wanted to ask you out to dinner, first.”

“So ask me,” you say with a giggle.

“Come have dinner with me,” Marcus murmurs, shaking his head in quiet amusement as he steals another gentle kiss. “Right now. Tonight.”

“You might have to open all the doors,” you tease. “My arm hurts.”

Another kiss.

“I’m wounded that you think I wouldn’t open every door regardless.”

“Are you always such a gentleman?” you remark with a wry smile.

Another. 

“Well,” Marcus grins wolfishly. He places on last, lingering kiss on your lips and then makes a show of offering his arm. “Not always.”

[bonefall]

Now we've got all six of em, can I just say that CRIPES ALMIGHTY the titles for a starless clan suck major ass! Both separately AND as a group!!

I Do Not Rewrite Arcs Until They Are Done BUT DO YOU WANNA HEAR MY WIP RENAMES SO FAR

Remember: Don't get too attached yet, the only one I can say with certainty will show up somewhere is the title of Book 4.

ARC RENAME: A Starless Clan -> A Prayer Unanswered

The original name is really good but I'm getting a vibe that the theme of the rework is going to be... when love isn't enough.

It's about how some things can't get better. It's about how all the kindness in the world couldn't get Bramblestar to turn around as a leader. It's about how Heartstar might have had good intentions, but occupation never works out in the end. It's Nightheart's relationship to his family being salvageable, not because they don't all want to fix it, but because his life has worked out best with distance from them.

So, Prayers Unanswered is both about the religious part of how RiverClan doesn't have a leader and can't get in proper touch with StarClan, but it's also about every other wish that hasn't come true.

River -> Starcrossed One of the VERY large changes I'm considering is actually massively reducing Nightheart's POV. I'm thinking of doing this, not because I dislike him, but because I think it might actually be a better story if the audience is guessing as to his intentions just as much as the other characters are. So, until he's ACTUALLY needed later, his chapters are short and sparse. So Starcrossed would be about setting up the troubles of the Clans, especially the parts of the conflicts I want to highlight more in BB. It would be setting up the rule changes for "starcrossed lovers" (lmao) but also the brewing anger that the cats have towards code changes... and StarClan, if I do decide to keep the newest revelations and work them in better, in hindsight.

Sky -> Fracture There's a phrase in my head that is so interesting to me that I need to do something with it. "Only frozen water can fracture." I want to make the RiverClan situation worse than in-canon. First of all, there's going to be identifiable groups this time which begin to scramble for power. Instead of having the cats just... forget how to do the chores they've done their whole lives, the Clan is splitting up into factions. This is why they won't be able to win against Heartstar later, when she decides to take drastic measures. They're not fighting like a Clan; they're fighting like a bunch of disorganized teams. There should also be a bunch of needless injuries, maybe even a border aggression that lead to a death, before Heartstar barges in. I also want to make this a bigger part of the story, Erins willing. Too much time was spent on the Catnip Patrol, imo, we're going to have ANOTHER big trip and I don't want this one to eat up so much time. Rowankit is also still going to die; and maybe a couple of elders around the Lake too.

Shadow -> Snakes and Turnclaws Berryheart's hate movement has been too tame, from canon books 1 - 4 as of the time of writing. It's ridiculous that they haven't even injured anyone in the Battle Cat series. I saved Antfur from the previous arc so that she can die here. We've been seeing the Anti-Turnclaw movement rise from the first book, so now with Nightheart's boldness leading him to a place where he will be unsafe, we need to see his rusty butt in actual danger. I'm even thinking that, instead of Nightheart failing his task on purpose, Sunbeam makes him fail by stopping him from getting killed. I need to know the ending of ASC first though, because I MIGHT be having Berryheart getting her exile here. Whatever kills Antfur is either deniable enough that she's able to squeak by while Sunbeam quietly leaves (refusing to accuse her mother of anything publicly) OR it's so obvious that Heartstar casts her out on the spot. Meanwhile, we see the OTHER half of ShadowClan's conflict as RiverClan finally unites... against them, as their common enemy. Task failed successfully, Heartsy

Thunder -> The Source of the River I'm still unspeakably proud of this outline. There's so much I want to do here. She's going to come back with a DND party and I'm hoping that all of them end up in RiverClan with her; INCLUDING Nightheart. I want the fact that he accompanied Frostpaw to actually be the final straw for him. While he's away, Sunbeam is acclimating to ThunderClan and falling in love with her new home. There are parts she misses about ShadowClan, but as she's adopted by Sparkpelt, taken as a secondary apprentice by the deputy, smiled upon by Squirrelstar after she pressures Bramblestar to abdicate... this starts to feel like this is where she belongs. And that's too hard for Nightheart to ever come back to. "You come to the source of the river, and are vexed that you do not find the water that is flowing downstream" dude.... man. That's what BB's about. Change. I also really want Nightheart to choose HIS OWN NAME by the end of this series-- so at some point in this book he should finally admit "Nightheart" wasn't his choice either. (I'm thinking Deltastep. Because his journey with Frostpaw begins at the southern delta of my reworked map.)

And I haven't done them for Book 5 or Book 6 yet, especially since I might end up condensing them or chopping them up to put into the other books.

I do know I'm really love to play with the idea of a starless sky for one of the last books though, I may or may not keep Splashtail's lack of faith in StarClan (hate the Evil Atheist thing they keep doing), but the idea of a "Pitch-Black Star" absolute fucks as symbolism, ngl. Maybe something like "A Gap in the Stars" or "Constellation's Void" or "The Stolen Star"

Also also also I'm having Curlfeather come back as a Dark Forest Demon for at LEAST one scene.

I don't give a good goddamn if they don't go to the Dark Forest or not. ONE weird coincidence that could totally have been Just Good Luck but was actually Curlfeather. Let Her Drown Splashtail, she deserves it. Let her be a malevolent spirit who protects her baby. RiverClan can whine all it wants about Mothwing who ooo doesn't believe in God, Frostpaw's got a demon. Cry about it

Also I hope Frostpaw becomes leader because I'll make it go hard

[voidpacifist]

things I loved about season four of sex ed (spoilers ahead)

the amount of representation present this season. the disability rep, the queer and trans rep, how not shy the writers were confronting different trans and disability rights issues head on.

eric's arc with his religion and his gayness and how he was able to reconcile the two. this one really hit home for me as someone who is both queer and a person of faith. I love getting to see gayness have a place within faith, it just healed something for me, okay?

otis was so classically otis but he finally (FINALLY) acknowledged his own idiosyncrasies without just writing them off as being the fault of wounds in his life. by the end of ep 8 he was dedicated to making things better for himself and for other people and I'm actually so proud of him for that.

aimee's journey with healing from her SA trauma and how she navigated a new relationship with that. also I know it probably wasn't intentional but she's a very autistic coded character to me and watching her flourish as herself with isaac just did something so special to my heart. I would level cities for her.

and adam too!! him finally getting the closure he needed with eric and them communicating !!!! the scene at erin wiley's funeral when eric is able to tell adam how genuinely proud of him he is, just,,,my heart I love it when people get to heal !! also again with the unintentional neurodivergent rep, like come on - sitting undiagnosed by yourself, handsome? he's just like me fr.

I was worried the writers wouldn't do isaac's character justice, even though he was given a good arc in season three I was still anxious about where they would take it now that maeve was overseas and honestly, they didn't give him very much of a story outside of his history and who he was when he was with maeve. similar to aimee with him, I really liked watching more of his artistic traits pop out and I loved seeing him have a healthy friendship with someone. even better, I love it when the feelings he harbored for that person were mutual with no strings attached. I wasn't expecting him and aimee to be endgame but I'm absolutely not disappointed about it (you can tell he's my fav because I've written the longest paragraph about him so far).

cal and aisha and pk. need I say anything more? my only gripe is that I wish we could have had a glimpse of the three of them on a date or even see if there were other people in the polycule but that's okay !! I also just really loved cal's journey with themself and I loved getting to see them supported for their identity it meant so very much to me.

lastly but certainly not the least, I loved that otis and o ended on mutually agreeable terms with each other, it just really added to the whole theme of trying to heal and open new doors and be okay with things not being in control all the time. it was especially touching that he gave his position as therapist to her because he knew and acknowledged he had work to do on himself like !!! very rare otis w but totally welcomed. had the show continued I would have loved to see more development w him.

[doritopaw101]

I’m not blind to what canon Firestar is, really I’m not.

When I say I like Firestar, I mean the one that exists mostly in my head because canon fucking murdered him and his character.

My Firestar is someone who advocates change to the clans, make them take a hard look at their xenophobia any chance he could, never forgets where he came from, would advocate for medicine cats having kits, and half clan relationships. Is absolutely close with his daughters and grandkits. Who curses out Starclan when they let Skyclan be exiled and his faith is to his heart not the stars.

Canon Firestar (mostly past the first arc): just becomes another code-abiding leader who doesn’t make a difference. Someone who would absolutely have punished Leafpool if she told him about the kits. Is praised for being the bare-minimum decent father like the other ones.

Firestar could’ve been someone who brought change but the Erins dropped the fucking ball with him. Tigerheartstar fits this and honestly I’m here for it, because this should’ve been done and better late than never.

[wc-confessions]

midnight was REALLY cool and i wish there were more noncats that spoke cat. i've had ideas for some before, but i don't think the erins are gonna try going in that direction any time soon. but i would like to share some of the most logical ideas i have for cat-speaking nons.

farm animals. there are usually cats at or around farms, whether they're mousers looking for a meal or actually owned by the farm.

other domestic animals. you want to tell me millie speaks dog because she's lived near them before but NONE of the dogs in the series have ever lived with cats? domestic birds could also be cool too: how would the cats react to, say, a rainbow macaw that spoke their language? they don't exactly have those in the lush forests of england.

another spirit sent by starclan. like i said midnight was a sick idea, but she feels out of place considering that was the only time it happened. if a prophecy were to be delivered by, say, a ghost deer, or an omen were to be read by idk a ghost hedgehog or something that would be INCREDIBLE.

the warrior code in the first few arcs talks about respecting all life (specifically prey), but if that's the case why has starclan only ever sent cats until midnight?

.

[tearwolfe]

I'll borrow a warrior cats book from the library and see how it is before buying a book.. shivers in fear, i did not know that..

yeah for sure do not buy them. there's also a bunch of free PDFs online you can read!! or check them out through libby or whatever online library service your local library uses if you don't mind reading from your phone.

gonna use this chance to highlight issues with warriors under the cut!! because i've spent so much time being with this series i have a lot of thoughts. i want to let you know i am not trying to cancel warriors or anything, there's just a lot of issues and i like talking about it.

CW: misogyny, pedophilia, ablism, racism

Okay, we're going to start with the more annoying aspects. First of all, Warriors is written by a ton of different people. They have the main writers outline the plot, and there's a bunch of other people that fill in all the empty space. Kind of an interesting way to do it, but that's why Warriors is able to publish several books a year. Erin Hunter is just a penname for a group.

INCONSISTENCIES

Why do I bring this up, what's the issue? The inconsistencies, dude. There's so many. Character appearances change between books. Dovewing's eye color changes frequently, for example, to the point where there was an internet war about how she would be represented on the Warriors Wiki. Another example is Mapleshade, a cat that's been prevalent as a villain since Crookedstar's Promise. In that book, she's referred to as a ginger-and-white she-cat, but after that she's been described as a calico (er, tortishelle-and-white, because Erin Hunter is somehow allergic to the word calico). Appearances aren't the only inconsistency. Character personalities are a big issue. After the first arc especially, characters will lose what charm they had in their personalities. Suddenly Spottedleaf is in love with Fireheart/star after she dies, suddenly Yellowfang is unwelcoming towards cats who find themselves breaking the Warrior Code (despite being a codebreaker herself and having compassion toward other cats while she was alive). The authors also seem to have trouble keeping track of characters. On one page Sandstorm leaves camp to go on patrol, and a paragraph later she is seen STILL in camp, talking to someone, despite having been written to leave camp. It's a very bizarre series to read. (Other inconsistencies include miswriting names [Ravepaw incident], using the wrong pronouns, and entirely confusing cats between each other). Heavystep also died a few times because the Erins forgot that he died.

MISOGYNY

Outside of poor writing, we're hit with misogyny. Main female characters, in POV, are written at least a little bit better than any of the other she-cats. However, as soon as the next arc starts and she's put out of the limelight, the authors have to give her a mate, give her kits, and make her a mother. There is only ONE POV she-cat I can think of that didn't die and never had kits. Twigbranch is literally the only one. This isn't a dig at being a mother at all, however whenever the Erins DO make a former main character a mother, that's the only trait they give them. Rarely do these she-cats continue to carry the personalities they were given initially.

It's not even a secret that the fandom dislikes when every she-cat is boiled down to being just a babymaker. The Erins literally killed off a she-cat because the fans didn't like the fact that her only personality trait was mom. Yes, this actually did happen.

There's lots of victim-blaming misogyny with whatever is going on between Squirrelflight and Bramblestar and between Leafpool and StarClan. Bramblestar will literally say the worst things to Squirrelflight and the narrative makes it seem like he's in the right. It's not wrong to display unhealthy relationships in media, but if you're writing a KID'S SERIES, it's extremely irresponsible to constantly write the victim as being wrong. This applies to how StarClan blames Leafpool for everything that's happened to her, despite the fact that Crowfeather was also a part of the equation.

Don't even get me started about Spottedleaf's Heart. In summary, Spottedleaf was groomed by Thisteclaw from when she was a kit (and he was a Warrior), and the narrative only makes Thistleclaw a bad guy because he was training in the Dark Forest, not because he is a predator.

ABLEISM

It's absolutely crazy how ableist this series is. In arc one, we have Brightpaw, an apprentice who gets mauled by dogs, and as Bluestar watched, as what she thought was going to be her death bed, she decided to give her her warrior name- a name that she would be stuck with in StarClan. She chose "Lostface." Brightpaw would eventually recover, loosing one of her eyes in the attack, and would live with being called Lostface until Firestar was able to rename her (to Brightheart). The whole renaming thing feels gross enough, but Brightheart is probably the best case scenario of ableism in Warriors, as she was allowed to function as a regular Warrior in the clan. Cinderpelt wasn't so lucky. She was a Warrior apprentice who got hit by a car, mangling her leg. She was then forced to become a Medicine Cat because she "couldn't hunt or fight" (despite the fact that real world cats are able to function completely normally while missing a limb). Longtail lost his vision in a fight with rabbits and he was retired early to the elder's den, despite wanting to be a Warrior. Jayfeather was blind, so he was made a Medicine Cat despite wanting to be a Warrior. Briarlight was paralyzed, so she was put in the Medicine Cat den most of the time despite wanting to be a Warrior. This is a very common theme in the series. Any cat who isn't fully able-bodied is often made to be a Medicine Cat or an Elder, even if that's not what they want. Literally every single Medicine Cat in ThunderClan since Spottedleaf through to Alderheart never wanted to be a Medicine Cat.

Being a Medicine Cat isn't supposed to be a bad role, but the way Warriors uses it as a cop-out to make disabled cats have a more "plot interesting" role without allowing them to be a Warrior is really weird.

ANTI-INDIGENOUS WRITING

I'm not the most knowledgeable person on this topic, however, many Indigenous readers have brought up a lot of issues the series has in terms of being culturally insensitive to native tribes. There's a well-written document that explains this in full detail.

IT'S KIND OF JUST BAD?

The writing isn't good. This goes back to the multi-writer issue. These people can't keep track of their characters or plot, so a lot of things just sort of fall flat. The best plotlines can be found in some of the novellas and graphic novels, and then I think it's because they're mostly written by one person.

How come StarClan can be so vague to living cats, but when we get POV in StarClan, they just act like normal cats? How come Ashfur randomly was super powerful in the Dark Forest/StarClan, while every other cat wasn't? There's just a lot of unexplained stuff, it's very weird.

Warriors is a very interesting series because it's pretty bad yet the fandom is huge. I definitely recommend watching Warriors Multi-Animator-Projects, reading fancomics, and fix-it fanfics instead of actually reading the books. The fans are so, so talented, it's crazy how a never-ending series of children's cat books has created such an insane fanbase.

[fishbaitslime]

Leafpool/Hawkfrost hypokits? Pls and thank you

hawkfrost and leafpool i think met at a gathering and leaf was immediately charmed by him. In my heart she has a thing for bad boys lol so she fell for him hard. hawk thought she was pretty and nice but defo was encouraged by tigerstar to get with her- but he did actually have genuine love feelings for her.

in this au, i think hawkfrost’s plans succeed in killing firestar, also killing brambleclaw. with no witnesses, he spins the story as him stumbling upon brambleclaw having trapped firestar, already taken the leaders lives- and hawkfrost in-turn fought brambleclaw to stop him before he moved onto the rest of thunderclan.

this kinda turned squirrelflight and leafpools relationship a bit sour, squirrel blaming hawk (rightfully) and leaf being like “you can’t see past your own nose and accept that bramble was just bad.” which thennn escalates to leafpool deciding to join riverclan as a medicine cat, the two becoming a leader medicine cat iconic duo power couple.

id like to think eventually hawkstars treachery is revealed which results in a lot of angst… perhaps ill make this an actual au lol

EAGLEFROST is our jay stand in. He’s still blind but becomes a warrior bc idk fuck the erins he can do what he wants. He’s revered throughout riverclan for his battle prowess and cunning, making for a skilled fighter even as an apprentice. This is partly due to having been trained in the dark forest all his life alongside his siblings. Eaglefrost isn’t dumb, he knows his family history.. he just is torn between honoring his legacy and doing what’s right. Renamed Eagle- because i think Hawk would talk Leafpool into a little more of a Cooler Bird Name. Then -frost as a kind’ve reference to his canon name being from his canon father, but also bc of his cold and calculated battle shit <3

TIGERLEAF is our lion, and our replacement medicine cat! I think Tigerstar would want a spy on the inside to starclan, so Hawk would probably fake a sign that would make he’s sons destiny within the medicine den. Tigerleaf is actually a very sweet soul, taking after Leafpool a lot and not at all his father or siblings. He is the voice of reason of the group, and he is usually the one to tell right from wrong. This leaves him within a lot of turmoil. His family is everything and that means their safety and success should be valued above all… right? Tiger- is because, again, I think Hawk/Tiger would disapprove of the Lion- prefix so yeagh. Leaf bc he plant doctor forever<3 but also his mom

TADPOLESTORM is our holly, and she is my favoriteee. Raised within the dark forest along her siblings, Tadpolestorm has been trained to be vicious but more importantly- fiercely loyal and obedient. Instead of the warrior code, Tadpolestorm is absolutely obsessed with helping her family. She know’s of (almost) all of Hawkstar’s deeds, and holds those secrets close to her chest. She would do anything to insure her father, mother, and brothers are safe- anything. Hawkstar has chosen her as elected deputy, and one day, leader. Tadpole- is from hawk’s brotherr and -storm is bc sheee a bit crazayyy (/affectionate)

despite all of this stuff, i do think Hawkstar does genuinely love Leafpool and his kids..he’s just got a lot going on.

warrior cat hypokit requests are open!

[dc-polls]

"That Really Happened?!" DC Comics Tournament Entry #34

Shvaughn/Sean

[ID: Cover of Legion of Super-Heroes #1 that says Young Romance. Shvaughn Erin cries into a handkerchief and says, "*choke* He spends so much time saving the world... When will he find time for me?" In the foreground Element Lad looks off into the distance. A narration box reads, "All my life, happiness eluded my grasp... and nothing I ever cared about lasted! Was this the way it had to be with Jan, too? The Elements of Heartbreak!" /END ID]

What Happened?

Shvaughn Erin was a member of the Science Police, the 30th-century cops who assisted (or hindered) the Legion of Super-Heroes. During the Paul Levitz/Keith Giffen run in the 1980s, she became romantically involved with Legionnaire Jan "Element Lad" Arrah. This upset some members of the Legion fan community who had a theory that Jan was gay. The character wasn't traditionally masculine, wore pink, and had curly blond hair (look, this just how gay coding worked in the 70s and 80s).

When Giffen and married couple Tom and Mary Bierbaum (who got their start in the Legion fan community) took over the title with 1989's vol. 4 (aka, the "Five Years Later" run), one of the things that Giffen wanted to do was kill off Shvaughn to establish Element Lad as gay. They were already using Jan's archenemy, the criminal Roxxas who years ago had genocided the rest of the his species, the matter-transmuting Trommites, as the villain for the first arc. Shvaughn was eventually spared this fate, but the writers still had to square the circle of why a "gay" character would be involved with a woman. Their solution? What if "she" was a "he?"

I'm going to try to explain the rest of this story in as sensitive a way as possible. This is a story that was written in 1992 by, as far as I know, three cishet people and your millage will vary (and as a cis person myself, I can't really speak to how well this holds up). I will generally be using she/her pronouns when the character is presenting as Shvaughn and he/him when presenting as Sean.

In Legion of Super-Heroes, vol. 4 #31, the Earth is recovering from the devastation of losing the moon due to the machinations of the alien Dominators who have infiltrated and subverted the planetary government (note also, the Dominators have an extremely problematic "yellow peril" design so there's a lot going on here). In the midst of this, Jan and Shvaughn meet for the first time in a while. Jan finds out that Shvaughn is going through withdrawal from not being able to obtain the drug Profem. She explains that she had been born male under the name Sean on a very conservative planet. While growing up, Sean developed a crush on Element Lad, who as a teenager was intergalactically famous as a member of the Legion. Thinking that the only way a boy like Jan would find him attractive, Sean started taking Profem, changed her name to Shvaughn, enrolled in the Science Police academy, and eventually became the liaison to the Legion. Now, without access to the drug, Shvaughn is reverting back to her more masculine appearance.

Jan takes all of this in, before telling his former lover that "anything we ever shared physically...it was in spite of the Profem, not because of it!" Shvaughn later runs into the teenage clone of Element Lad from the Dominator's Batch SW6 (we can't get into that right now), and in future appearances shows up fully presenting as masculine and going by Sean. The adult Element Lad goes into a coma and Sean is at his bedside.

Then the Legion gets rebooted in Zero Hour, all of the Legionnaires are teens again with new continuity, and Shvaughn (when she shows up at all) is back to presenting as female with no indication that she was ever Sean. Element Lad (unless I missed anything) is only given female love interests or sexual partners by later writers, or implied to be asexual with a spiritual bend.

While Shvaughn is far from the first female love interest who gets her storyline derailed to support a gay headcanon, it is surprising that it 1. happened in canon and 2. the solution was not to kill her off, but to reveal she is trans (ish?) so the character can detransition back to a man so that his love interest can be gay. What's really weird is that Giffen and the Bierbaums also made canon a romance between Light/Lightning Lass and Shrinking Violet, but never felt a need to invalidate their previous relationships with male partners, which maybe points towards the culture of the time's perceptions of male vs. female bisexuality.

--

Tournament polls will be posted after all entries are up. As always you can find all posts related to the tournament using #dc-polls-trh

[yuridovewing]

realized this earlier today but hey. what was up with people saying dovewing hate was fine and righteous because the erins put too much emphasis on her love life while ivypool was more feminist for not having a love interest in oots (ignoring that this is an issue with most female protagonists) but then when fernsong was introduced and had zero chemistry with ivypool and reduced her to another wife and mom, everyone claimed that was super feminist bc he said hed be a stay at home dad which actually made them queer coded or something and youre just a misogynist who doesnt want ivypool to be happy. and dovewing is still terrible and whiny bc she broke the law or whatever

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

I don't like that Ivypool is deputy much like many people (even though she was my favourite main character for a while), but I do gotta admit that the idea of her one day potentially having to choose whether or not to go to war with her sister's, nephew's, and neices' Clan is interesting to me

It feels like she wouldn't hesitate as much as some other characters might, but either way it leads to some good tension for things that could happen in those battles.

I mean, what if Lightleap or Pouncestep die in a battle Ivypool/star directly ordered to be fought? And she has to live with knowing that? And what if she realizes all the things she's done to her sister: ignore her cries for help, ignore her wants and needs, ignore her sister's kits when they returned safe and sound from who-knows-where, ignore her when she was stated to be a Code Breaker. And she wants to make up for it, she wants to, but it's too late because Dovewing's child is dead because of her and there's no coming back from that.

Let's be honest though, the Erins would never acknowledge that Ivy was in the wrong for many things, but still. A fun thought.

[altschmerzes]

THE 13 BOOKS I READ IN 2023 IN ORDER FROM BEST TO WORST + THE PROTAGONIST'S SUPERLATIVE. PART 2.

6. A Wrinkle In Time by Madeleine L'Engel. a timeless classic that i love love love. meg is such a fun protagonist and i really enjoyed experiencing this as an adult again. the whole like… helpless devastated rage she feels when she realizes that adults can't just. fix everything? that sequence will always rattle me around like a mason jar fulla beans. she's such a like… man. the way the narrative was like. this isn't fair. it isn't right. it's happening anyway. i'm so sorry, but it's happening anyway. that really got me.

Protagonist: Meg Murry. Most Likely To Have A Profound And Life Altering Impact On Adolescent Weird Girls Who Read Her Book.

7. Whiskeyjack by Victoria Goddard. third book in the series, slightly less fun than the others but only very slightly. i cannot emphasize enough how difficult it was to rank like, 2-8. had some VERY fun stuff with like…. things you learn that then go back and recontextualize everything else. ended on a scene that made me fucking sob which is always a plus in my book. themes of FAMILY and LOYALTY and SACRIFICE. my fucking beloved. yes please. the pov character continues to have a horrible little time. also love that.

Protagonist: (again, series has dual protagonists, so switching back) Peregrine Dart. Most Likely To Be The Unwitting Conduit Of The Deus Ex Machina. Deus Ex Dart.

8. One By One by Ruth Ware. just a really good classic mystery thriller. i love a mystery thriller, and ruth ware seems to always hit for me. managed to pull off a pov switch between two pov characters one of whom had a massive, MASSIVE secret without it seeming completely nonsensical once revealed or relying on the pov character talking in deliberately obtuse or evasive ways that would be really tiresome and insulting if carried through. there was a set of tech bro startup characters that were obnoxious and infuriating in exactly the way that those people are in real life, so points for that for SURE even though i did wanna throttle them.

Protagonist: Erin (Lastname). Most Deserving Of A Tropical Vacation.

9. The Ritual by Adam Nevill. this is the most brutal book i have read in recent memory. possibly at all. this guy gets put all the way through the wringer physically and emotionally and it is visceral in the way it is described. the protagonist was a profoundly unpleasant person a lot of the time but this was deliberate and really engaging, honestly. there were some moments of stark self-reflection from him about the ways in which he did not like who he was and the things he did, and when he recognized how like. unfair and cruel he was being to the others in his head. wasn't as good as the movie, imo, but the changes that they made between the book and film made total sense given the sheer level of interiority in the book. and boy howdy how much interiority. whoof.

Protagonist: Luke. Most Surprising Survival.

10. I Am Not Who You Think I Am by Eric Rickstad. i think the most damning thing that can be said about this book is that i literally can't remember almost anything about it. it was compelling in some ways and there were a few very specific moments that i was really gripped by but most of it was like. a really flat letdown. it was interesting enough as a mystery that i finished it but i don't even really remember why, now.

Protagonist: Wayland Maynard. Most Forgettable Guy.

11. The Darkest Minds by Alexandra Bracken. just. ugh. dystopia ya in a bad way. too complicated and not well established. dumbass colour coding system. it could've been so fun, i love traumatized teenagers with powers and an evil government in all sincerity but this just did not do anything good with it. it looked like it COULD have but it DIDN'T. the love interest character was a DICK. there was some weird gender takes that popped out of nowhere. jump-scared by gender. did enjoy watching the movie though because it was fucking insane and gave me a scene where the protagonist and the love interest shared a passionate embrace over what fully appeared to be the dead body of the love interest's theoretical best friend. amazing. no notes.

Protagonist: Ruby Daly. Most Likely To One Day Decide She's Tired Of Being Nice And She Does Want To Go Apeshit Actually.

12. Reputation by Sarah Vaughan. [VIDEODROME PRESCREEN AUDIENCE REVIEW WHERE THEY JSUT WROTE 'SUCKED' AND GOT SO UPSET ABOUT HOW BAD IT WAS THEY MARKED THE WRONG GENDER] this book was BAD. the writing was bad. the characters were bad and not on purpose. the politics of the book were uh. whoof. what if white girlboss feminism was a novel. points for some of the hardest i've laughed tho at Nice Dick Mike the journalist that the protagonist cannot respect after she sleeps with him and Lady Cop With Bangs, the traitor to womanhood.

Protagonist: Emma Webster. Most Likely To Submit An Extremely Long Post To Reddit Dot Com Slash Am I The Asshole That Leaves Out A Lot Of Like, Extremely Critical Information That When Uncovered All Makes Her Look Really Fucking Bad While She Seems To Still Think It Was Entirely Irrelevant And Honestly Unfair To Even Consider. Gd Forbid Women Do Anything.

UNCATEGORIZED: 21st Century Jocks: Sporting Men And Contemporary Heterosexuality by Eric Anderson. there was simply no way to rank this among the others, it was too completely different. they were all very different books but this was just. entirely different. had a wonderful time with it though!! gave me a lot to think about as someone who thinks a lot

thank you for joining me on this journey. i loved reading books again this year and would wholeheartedly recommend anything ranked 1-9 on this list, provided you like the genre/vibe.

[tojisun]

Just wanted you to know i listened to exile by Taylor Swift (they are so exile coded omg)the toxic dbf biker Simon series and it made me cry🥰(I READ THE SERIES N I LOVE IT SO MUCH PLSSS ♥️♥️♥️😍😩😩😌🥰😩😍♥️💋)

OMG AHHH THANK U SO MUCH!! i love love writing it even though it hurts and simons an ass :// angst has always been smthn that i loved exploring

AND EXILE?? omg yea yea!!! i personally like loveless’ version more but the lyricism of this song rlly matches w dbf!simon :((

n the absolute goated lyrics “i think ive seen this film before and i didnt like the ending” is so reader when she saw simon with erin </33

(but you’re wrong. because simon with erin? it’s something new. something that you never expected from him—the way he loves her, the way he melts for her, the way she had made a better man out of him.

so you’re wrong. because for the first time in simon’s long list of messy dates, here’s someone who simon decided to change for.)

[bonefall]

Since you mentioned only cats and a few other distant animals are sentient, does this mean foxes are getting their sentience removed? Midnight can talk to foxes in the books and even convinces some foxes to leave a patrol of cats alone (the foxes are WEIRDLY violent and talk about eating the cats too lmaoo).

I assume Hollyleaf's changes mean the Fox Cub Incident is either being moved or just removed entirely, I always found that small plot point interesting in face of all those "Non-cat in clan" AUs. Seems like something that could be interesting if an "us vs them" argument was formed from it, especially if it was targeted against Midnight and calling her unholy yknow?

Yeah, that sapience is gone completely. In this universe, language is limited only to humans, cats, and some distant animals that are far outside the range of Albion (elephants, bottlenoses, some parrots, etc)

And Hollyleaf's story especially. Ngl to you, I don't like that fox idea. Or anything about Hollyleaf's Story. I think it was the worst possible route to take.

"Hollyleaf will be a mother to this evil creature to learn what it's like to love something that hates you. It is so sad to be your mom Leafpool (Squirrel-who?). Don't you feel like a shitty daughter now, Holly? Let's not ask any questions about the code btw, or how you were already filled with crushing shame from it. Or how it made you so disgusted about the idea of pregnant nuns that you flipped your shit and ruined the lives of your entire family. No, what really mattered about this situation was maternal empathy. Also here take the nearest male character we can find to ship you with, we accidentally made Cinderheart too gay when she was upset about your death lmao"

But, digressing, putting my distaste of that novella aside,

WC is profoundly xenophobic already with just the cats, and I think it was a CATASTROPHIC mistake to make it so every animal is secretly intelligent but speaks animal language. Now every conflict between cats and their predators is an ethnic dispute! You're chasing out groups of people perfectly capable of reasoning if you bridged the language barrier, but they're also ACTUAL PREDATORS.

AT BEST; It's the same uncomfortable situations that Zootopia and Lion King ends up tripping over. In Zootopia, predators are used as an allegory for oppressed groups... but predators are MADE to eat prey. A rabbit is RIGHT to be terrified of a fox, twice its size with a jaw made for catching bunnies. In Lion King, lions have divine authority to rule over their dinner/subjects, and chase out any animal based on their personal ideology... which just so happens to only be leveraged against rival predator species.

(Nerd preemption: yes i know about lion guard. I do not think diverse Lion Cops were the solution you think it is.)

Carelessly adding sapience to "natural systems" often ends up accidentally justifying bigotry. Bigotry doesn't MAKE SENSE, it's bullshit we made up and perpetuate through culture, but food webs are completely logical. The rabbit fears the fox because the fox eats rabbits. The lion hates the hyena because they compete for the same food. Gazelles don't happily submit to an overlord who is divinely capable of deciding who should live and who should die, it's just nature.

But it gets even worse-- because it's actually WORST CASE; the Erins saw that complicated moral problem and went, "don't worry! They're actually born evil! Foxes just talk about food and killing things :)"

like... my brother in cats, YOU gave them language in the first place! What was the fucking point if they were just going to be evil barbarians anyway?!? For ONE scene where Midnight could show off her Duolingo streak???

So to summarize,

It was an awful idea to start with

It was executed in the worst possible way

In a series that is already plagued with xenophobic sentiment, this somehow made it even worse and more direct

If it was completely nuked it from the story, the series would be immediately better with minimal change. Holly caring for what is essentially the clan cat-equivalent of an exotic animal like a chimp or a tiger cub would have done the same thing

There is not even a glimmer of an idea here that justifies the poison that full sapience does to the wider implications of the series.

Don't even get me started on the Badger Debaucle in TNP, which is actually in my top 5 for most vile things in WC

So if I don't explicitly say that a species in BB is capable of true language, assume it is non-sapient. Talking animals like Midnight and Rat Leader are magical individuals-- gods, curses, etc.

[animatewarriorcats]

Scorchfur! He has gotten more attention recently because people started to realize that being named Cloverfoot Berryheart and Buster(Rippletail)'s father means that he was mates with Snowbird as an apprentice, which while being funny at least, I'm pretty sure was just an accident with the Erins not paying more attention to the timeline. His first appearance is in Eclipse, during the battle of the eclipse when Hollypaw brings Shadowclan cats to aid Thunderclan in the battle he and his mentor Snaketail jump in beside her, The same battle in which Snowfur stays behind in the nursury with Tawnypelt's kits. He tends to be a hothead in his early days, quick to end disputes with claws, he jumps into a boarder skirmish with his mentor against lionblaze, while the rest of the patrol remains with their claws sheathed in long shadows, and during the final battle though he is injured severely he tries to jump back into battle while Littlecloud treats his wounds, saying 'I'll fight to the death if I have to."

Scorchfur is actually an interesting guy, since he’s almost like the B-list Actor version of a warriors character in A Vision of Shadows, with more on the page than your average cat but very specifically lacks the autonomy and notoriety that most main characters, or clan leadership gets. And this is true of many characters in that arc, I was going to summarize all the things he did but it ended up being a lot and I was starting to feel like I was yelling in font of a conspiracy board of why didn’t I notice that this guy existed when I read these books, he should have been as memorable as Brightheart or Mudclaw but he just wasn’t for me. And I think it’s because the narrative itself doesn’t treat him like a noteworthy individual, he represents shadowclan, not his opinion, and when he speaks characters reply to him as if he’s one of an entity of shadowclan cats who don’t like leaders and not as Scorchfur. This is true for all of shadowclan at the time, Spikefur, Ratscar, Snowbird, Grassheart all have speaking lines and opinions, but they’re treated like a personless group instead of individuals.

Anyway list of things he did During AVOS include: Distrust Violetpaw for being non-clanborn yet defends her in front of Onestar, be extremely critical of Rowanstar and eventually Crowfrost for the sickness in shadowclan and rogues hunting on their land, be extremely distraught over Snowbird catching the incurable yellowcough, come up with the idea to use Twigpaw as a hostage to try to convince Windclan to give them Lungwort, Tell Rowanstar that he can forget about coming back from a gathering because the clan wasn’t participating with clans that abandoned them and Rowanstar was too weak to lead them signalling the entrance of Darktail and the Kin, Jump first into the battle against Riverclan starting the fight, argue with Darktail about feeding their prisoners and almost loses his standing (and ability to protect/ feed his family) over it, Help puddleshine cure cats instead of fight during the liberation of Riverclan, Feel immediately dissappointed again by Rowanstar’s indecision in the six toed cat prophecy and throw claws with tawnypelt about it, argue with Rowanstar/Puddleshine about annexing with Skyclan because the clan wasn’t consulted or warned and only decides to comply for the warrior code of it all, lives peacefully in Skyclan until Leafstar refuses to allow his pregnant daughter to return igniting what will become a grudge, conspires to hide her in the old shadowclan camp until she is discovered and allowed to stay, assists Juniperclaw alongside his mate in Junipers attempt to poison skyclan by distracting the clan destroying dens, Is not included in the blame for that event (not even mentioned at all!) and in fact escorts juniper to captivity and guards the den, cheers for his daughter Cloverfoot when she is elected Deputy.

Many characters accuse him for wanting power but He Doesn’t, he just thinks everyone else is doing it wrong until Tigerheart and Juniperclaw Cloverfoot are elected. In the next arc his spirituality is defined as being dogmatic and easily swayed by the atonement narrative, partly because he’s led to believe an injury he sustains that also kills his clanmate is a sign that they must atone. Once that’s clarified as being false he is supportive to the rebellion agains the imposter. In the Starless clan arc he is still a warrior, and has been seen doing warrior things (he was on the patrol to riverclan in sky to retrieve catmint) but otherwise has taken a back seat.

[y2ksnowglobe]

Thinking about Grant telling Erin that she couldn't bring her trees to their realm because that much travel between planes could tear the barriers apart and unleash the doodler onto both realms. And then taking the idea that Henry was not okay with Code Purple and...do you think he tried bringing people back from Earth and that's what started the incursion points happening in the Forgotten Realms? If there was a Doodler free time after Code Purple, could that be what ended it?

[wc-confessions]

re: WC misogyny

This is solely to get my thoughts out abt this bc I’m probably not gonna be able to articulate this to the best of my ability but I feel like it’s incredibly important to say that these books are pretty damn misogynistic and so was the fanbase for the longest time.

Not saying that to be "throwing the word around without knowing what the word means", because misogyny is defined as a dislike/contempt against women. This can also absolutely be an unconscious bias (which is primarily what I see anyway!) I've seen far more people dismiss these characters while holding up male ones that do similar/worse things (i.e. Thistleclaw primarily but a lot of the MV characters to an extent)

The reason why discussion about sexism usually ends up against cats like Mapleshade, Squirrelflight, Frecklewish, and Nightcloud is primarily due to how the universe of the books is written to chastise these characters while their male counterparts go thru barely half of the shit thrown onto the girls.

Mapleshade gets her kids and herself exiled for breaking the code while Appledusk literally gets a slap on the wrist for breaking the same code she did? The Riverclan leader just tells him "well, you'll not do it again so you don't need to be punished" while Mapleshade doesn't even get to bury her kits. Even if she's the Warrior Cats evil woman that's still really fucked up!? And this goes to Frecklewish as well, who does not watch them drown oh my god. The flood that kills Maple's kits is incredibly loud--saying Freckle would have been able to do anything else OTHER than watch dismisses the fact going to the flooded stones was an idea doomed to fail (of which Mapleshade has a lot of in MV specifically.)

Frecklewish absolutely ended up in the Dark Forest over Oakstar or Ravenwing (who both condemned the kittens to their fate instead of?? idk punishing Maple and not the kits who didn't even know they were half clan?) because of the way the fandom perceived her at the time. Freckle's a lot like Squirrelflight where fandom opinion only recently shifted to people defending those characters--she's pretty awful for calling the same kits she doted on half-clan creatures! But I don't think she deserved to go to cat hell forever when the cat who actually caused those kittens to end up dead (and every other cat in MV!) ends up in Starclan without even so much of a trial.

Speaking of trials--Squirrelflight and Leafpool literally end up almost being sent to CAT HELL for following Starclan's orders. Leafpool ends up having forbidden kits but Starclan goes "it's okay!" until it isn't. Brambleclaw almost being involved in Firestar's fox trap murder never gets mentioned or brought up while both of the girls are questioned about if they even belong in Starclan because they "broke the code and lied"?? There's a pretty damn big bias towards the toms for doing bad/worse actions but Bramble never went to Starclan and had his ticket for heaven almost revoked. Oakstar didn't get put in the Dark Forest because he exiled 3 innocent kits.

I think it's important to note the fandom has a lot of say over how characters like these get interpreted (which is why Nightcloud ended up being hated a lot despite the fact Crowfeather is just. actually abusive to Breezepelt.) That's why I brought up unconscious biases, because I think generally a lot of WC content creators tend to stick to presenting the stories in a more radical/black and white way.

I think the discussion really should be that the books and the stories ARE pretty misogynistic but unconsciously so? A lot of the story beats I mentioned weren't written by just one person, and the Erins have different opinions on these cats than the fans do. That's not me stating an opinion, that's just me saying recognizing that it's very male-oriented IS an issue these books have.

Anyways this got way too wordy, Ashfur is one of my favorite villains so I don't even know why I typed all of this up /j.