#it has made me so proud to call you my own because of the impact you’ve made and how many hearts you’ve touched. what an honor

[navybrat817]

The Dad Diaries: Grief

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky explains grief to Jamie as best as he can when you need a minute to yourself. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, touch of fluff, grief, loss of a friend, reflecting, talk of death, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?). A/N: Another part to the The Dad Diaries . Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky could hear your cries before he reached the bedroom, the sound causing a lump to form in his throat. He could picture you hastily wiping at your face when he knocked. You were in pain and it hurt him to know you were hurting. The worst part was that it wasn’t the kind of pain he could fix by patching it up. It was the kind of hurt that lingered beneath the surface before it clawed its way out.

Grief.

“Do you need anything, doll?” He asked.

“Just give me a minute, please!” You called out, your voice close to sounding like your normal self. You were trying your best to be strong when what you needed was a moment to break. People didn’t realize the weight of the things they carried until they buckled under them.

And you didn’t need to be strong all the time.

“Mama?” Jamie asked, reaching a hand out toward the door.

Bucky kissed the top of his head. “Mama needs a minute,” he whispered before he held him against his chest. He hoped his smell and steady heart beat soothed him. “She’ll snuggle up with you soon, okay?”

If anything could make you feel better apart from being in his arms, it was having your son nuzzle against you.

Jamie made a small sound, his lower lip trembling. “Mama,” he said again.

Bucky didn’t take it to heart that his son wanted you. He understood that there were days when he’d want his dad and other days he’d want his mom and times when he’d want both of you. If anything, he felt proud that his son wanted to go to you. Maybe he sensed that you needed support and love.

“I know you want your mama,” he said, carrying him back to the living room. “But you are stuck with me for another minute.”

Jamie moved his head, his eyes set in a stubborn stare. He looked so much like you at that moment, demanding with a look to know what was the matter and how to fix it. What could he say?

“Jamie, you know how you have your Uncle Steve and Uncle Sam and Aunt Nat and everyone else?” He asked, a sad smile touching his lips at the happy look in his little boy’s eyes at the mention of his friends. He wanted his child to hold onto that innocence for as long as he could. “Well, your mama had a friend who was going to be like an aunt to you, too.”

Was. Past tense. Because your friend recently passed away. You wondered if she knew how important she was to you. If she knew how she impacted your life. She was too young in your eyes to go. Still had so many things she wanted to do. While death is fair in that it comes for everyone, it doesn’t always feel fair when someone you care for is taken away too soon.

The one thing you were thankful for was that she was no longer in pain.

“Mama’s friend, your aunt, isn’t here anymore. She misses her and she’s sad that she’s gone.”

“Mama sad?” Jamie repeated, his eyes wide.

“Yeah, Nugget. She’s very sad. Grieving. And grief is… so many things,” Bucky explained, swallowing a bit as he felt a crack in his heart. “It’s loss and mourning. It’s love that you carry inside and it no longer has a place to go.”

Jamie gazed at him, soaking up every word. His son was too young to hear something like this. Too precious. But if life taught him anything, it’s that it was too short and there was no guarantee of tomorrow.

“Some days the grief comes out of nowhere. You never really know when it’ll happen or why. You may hear a song you’ve heard dozens of times before or catch a scent of something familiar and it triggers a memory or feeling,” he told him, kissing his forehead again because he needed to ground himself. “You think you’re fine and then you fall apart.”

That was exactly what had happened a few minutes prior. You were smiling one moment as the three of you sat in the living room and the next you burst into tears before you rushed out. Bucky wished like hell he could’ve manifested your sadness into something tangible so he could snuff it out. It wasn’t his battle to fight, but he could be by your side to wipe the tears away if you let him. Or whisper words of care. Or to say nothing at all. Some didn’t always want to hear words of comfort or hope when they just needed to feel.

He would be there to give you whatever you needed or asked for.

“It’s okay to feel those feelings, Jamie. I get sad, too. There’s no timeline for healing or grieving. It takes as long as it takes. And we’re lucky in a way to feel things so strongly,” he told him. You were always understanding and patient on his off days. He more than lucked out by having you as his wife. “You know what your Uncle Vis says grief is? That it’s love persevering,” he added, bouncing him a bit to make him smile. It put a smile on his face, too. “And your mama has so much love to give.”

“So do you.”

Bucky looked toward the doorway where you stood. Bloodshot and puffy eyes, but with a small smile on your beautiful face. He wanted to hold you and remind you that you weren’t alone. “Hey,” he said as Jamie reached for you. “I think he wants to cheer you up.”

“Is that right? Well, I think a snuggle with my boys is just the thing I need,” you said as you took a seat beside Bucky and took Jamie into your arms. “Sorry I rushed off like that.”

“Don’t be,” Bucky whispered. He had plenty of moments where he needed to step away and compose himself when his thoughts got too loud. “We just want you to be okay,” he added, kissing your temple before Jamie grabbed your face.

“Mama no sad,” he said, forcing your cheeks up in a smile. The sight almost brought tears to Bucky’s eyes because it was so simple and heartfelt. “No sad.”

You giggled, a soft sound, before it erupted into full blown laughter. It soothed the crack he felt earlier in his heart. The room felt brighter, especially when Jamie joined in with the laughter. “Not sad, Nugget,” you assured him before you looked at your husband, love shining through like always. “Not anymore.”

The grief from your loss would come again in waves. Just like the days Bucky mourned the parts of his life he lost and couldn’t get back. Some days were harder than others, especially when regret and “what if’s” came to mind, but the important thing was that neither of you allowed yourselves to live alone or lose yourselves in grief. Not when there was so much to be thankful for.

You felt what you needed to feel. You asked for help and leaned on each other. And you carried on together.

Because what is grief, if not love persevering?

I lost more than one loved one recently and writing this helped me process some of the loss. We all need someone like Bucky. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @chaaistheanswer

Hi everyone! I am Clara, but you can also call me chaa! I am a digital artist based in Auckland, New Zealand, with a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production. After graduating from uni, I moved out to pursue my art career and I’ve been a freelance digital artist ever since. I love concept art, especially character design! Creating characters influenced by my love for fantasy is what I live for. Thank you for stopping by, and I hope you enjoyed my art! And thank you, Tumblr, for this opportunity!

Check out our interview with Clara below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I specialized in art in high school and have a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production from Massey University with an animation pathway. For our thesis film, which I worked on with several of my classmates, I took on the role of producer, art director, and concept artist. Our short film was featured in the Wellington Film Festival Terror-Fi in 2020. After graduating, I went on to become a freelance artist, but my goal is to work for the gaming industry as a character concept artist. Ever since I first picked up a pencil, I knew I wanted to become an artist!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

Art block is quite common among artists, and unfortunately, I too have fallen prey to the affliction. I have several ways of overcoming art block: watching movies, playing games, reading, or going out for a drive with my sister. These are just a few things I love to do to help keep my creative juices flowing!

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

I tend to obsessively research about completely unrelated topics while I draw. I find learning new things helps improve my concept designs, especially in creating backgrounds for my characters.

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Video games and anime were my biggest inspirations! Anything with a captivating story that’ll send me to the edge of my seat, and loveable characters. I’m particularly drawn to high and dark fantasy.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

Technology has made a huge impact on us artists over the last few years. I used to draw a lot on paper, but since getting a tablet, I find myself searching for the undo and redo buttons and even trying to zoom constantly while I draw on paper. I used to only draw for myself as well, but after posting my art online, I now have an audience to whom I can share my art. Because of this, I am able to earn a living doing what I love by creating illustrations for clients.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

I am very proud of this recent commission I’ve done for a client! Fortunately, the piece turned out exactly how I wanted it to look, and my client was very happy with the result. I am also in the process of working on a Webtoon, which is going as smoothly as I hoped it would be before its re-release!

What advice would you give to younger you about making art that's personal or truthful to your own experiences?

The best advice I would give my younger self is to never hold back! Try not to think about the negatives of creating and sharing art that you believe in. Embrace vulnerability, and don’t be afraid to dig deep into your own emotions and experiences. Always explore, and don’t limit yourself to your own bubble. And most important of all, stay true to yourself! Stay true to your values and beliefs, and never compromise your own authenticity for the sake of pleasing others. Your art is a reflection of you as a person.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@yuumei-art has been an inspiration to me since my early Deviantart days. I admire how she uses her skills to focus on environmentalism and cyber activism. @nipuni is another inspiration of mine. I found her when I was in the process of recovering from Dragon Age Solavellan hell. I admire how she manages to capture faces well while also sticking to her style. Her paintings are so beautiful and very pleasing to my eyes!

Thanks for stopping by, Clara! If you haven't seen her Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here. For more of Clara's work, follow her Tumblr, @chaaistheanswer!

[j0kers-light]

hi bae, ik youve been going thru a rough patch i hope(in fact ik) you’ll bounce back harder.🫶🏻

i really wanted to make a request for a long long time now, no pressure write it whenever u feel like it i am just going to drop it here.

for me J has always been a Lana del rey song specially the ultra violence album, he’s shades of blue, he’s ultraviolenec, smts hes even brooklyn baby. Can you write something dark, like real dark where hes possessive, violent, exatcly like he was in TDK. Pulling stunts and dropping hints. maybe he kidnappes the reader or smt like that, he’s acting all crazy and violent but something inside him just makes him slip to a lil caring or loving side every now and then, which eventually leads to some serious SMUT 😏😏

the reader could be his enemy’s daughter(maybe even batman’s daughter lol i am going wild) he tortures her,loves her, takes care of her then tortures her a lil more but make no mistake the reader is a fireball she gives him that lil fight they have in her which makes J even more attached to her.

ik i am just blabbing and making no sense, but i hope ukwim. i am also attaching a link to my fav J edit ever which might give u an outline of what i am trying to say. maybe even add J’s POV.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CqyP1PdveA9/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

okay ill shut up now. feel better love you 🫶🏻

His Lighthouse: Broken Dolls (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Broken Dolls - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A STORY UPDATE!

I feel ashamed that you had to wait so long for this request. Forgive me times a thousand @heathisbae !! I still love you and I got carried away with the word count. (10,500 words!!) I promise you that my blood, sweat, and tears went into this request. You should've let me stay in my enclosure. I LOVE DARK requests and I was in a dark and lonely place when I wrote this. The perfect mood for Broken Dolls.

Gather round children it’s time to go over some legal stuff. I usually do not care about trigger warnings. You are responsible for your own reading pleasure, BUT I’ll add a TW: List because yall gone need it. Chaos had a lil bit too much fun writing this one.. 👀😬

TW! Dark!Joker. rape, knife, blood, impact, choking, power play, dacryphilia, spitting, biting kinks, unprotected sex, overstimulation if you squint, degradation, no prep (foreplay is important kids) uhhhh… I’m missing something. 🤔 It’s canon Joker people. He’s a walking trigger warning.

Just be careful if you decide to read this one. I know I went overboard but your mental health is always my top priority. Enjoy or not. It’s entirely up to you. Since its a dark request, I decided not to tag anyone except @heathisbae Read at your own risk 🖤✨

Your father made it virtually impossible for anyone to find out. By fate’s design, you looked nothing like the iconic figure you called “father”, and you were forever grateful for that. 

Your skin complexion, eye, and hair color masked you from the surname that was your birthright. You were the rumored Wayne heiress that Gotham City whispered about. Many far and wide longed to meet you to strengthen their businesses by marriage, whereas others flat out questioned your conception.  

Bruce Wayne had neither confirmed nor denied the mother of any of his children to the world. Not like he ever would. There were only a few secrets Bruce had left in this world: you being the most important one.  

Your life would be in danger if anyone were to find out you were a Wayne or worse, the precious daughter of Batman.  

Many were adopted into the bat family, but you were blood to Bruce. A last-ditch effort he made to secure his family’s legacy; He hired a surrogate.  

Should Batman ever fall in combat, you could pick up the torch and continue the Wayne legacy.  

At an early age you wanted to make your father proud and wisely decided not to follow in his footsteps moonlighting as a vigilante. The eldest boys, Dick and Jason, celebrated for days. They loved their half-sister and supported every decision you make, but they would’ve put their foot down should you have wished to don a bat suit.  

Instead of violence, you dedicated your life to education. Only the best schools with full ride scholarships—your cv was lengthy as it was profound. You spoke multiple foreign languages, held many accreditations issued from all over the globe, and excelled at virtually every extra-curricular skill you could think of.  

You were a hardworking, driven woman with a no-nonsense attitude. That much, you got from your mother. 

You dominated any boardroom you entered, and your famous e/c eyes could make or break contracts with a single look. Now that was all your father’s genes. You gave the phrase, beauty and brains, a living breathing, mascot and Bruce couldn’t be prouder.  

That unfortunately made you a target.  

You shied away from public humanitarian appearances to avoid being recognized as a Wayne. Too many similarities with Bruce would make people curious. Instead, you worked behind a smokescreen and attended the many charities and sponsorship parties as a third-party spectator to oversee your work.  

That way, you got to see your hard work being implemented into the community—far better results than your father’s monetary donations provided.  

You took pride knowing your hard work was creating a change in Gotham City. With the safeguards Bruce and the boys had in place; it would take an actual genius to put the numerous clues together to uncover your identity. You could live in relative peace while still making a difference.  

Sadly, your long forgotten surrogate mother would soon threaten life as you knew it.  

Joker prided himself in being a vigilant man. Nothing, not even the smallest of details, went unnoticed by him and when it came to his best friend Batman, J took extra care to notice every little thing.  

The level of surveillance Joker did on the dark knight bordered on obsession but in a way, he was. Joker strived to be twelve steps ahead of his arch-nemesis in order to maintain his freedom. Being shipped back to Arkham was not an option, so he took information gathering very seriously.  

Joker knew that Batman was Bruce Wayne for years. He was surprised other Gotham villains or just the local law enforcement didn’t put the clues together. It was so obvious. 

There was no point in telling the world Batman’s not so little secret, but when Joker studied the daily life of Bruce Wayne a bit further, now that was a blackmail gold mine. Having a one up on Bats just felt good and especially when Joker discovered the perfect weapon that would break the man once and for all.  

You. 

Tucked away and hidden in plain sight; Y/n Wayne, the perfect tool for Joker’s plans.  

A father’s worst nightmare, seeing their child in distress, Joker looked forward to scaring Bruce with this latest prank. All he had to do was get close enough to steal you away, but Bruce kept you protected twenty-four seven. Smart man and Joker didn’t blame his bestie for being a protective father.  

There were dangerous people out there who would dream of your demise if they knew the truth! 

No, it was much easier to track down your mother and it was mere child’s play to make her talk. Joker thoroughly enjoyed extracting as much information from the woman before her untimely demise.  

He found it was unfair that she was virtually defenseless while you had security tighter than most world leaders. It wasn’t fair in Joker’s book, so he set out to put your safeguards to the test.  

And what achievement it was to outsmart Batman at his own game.  

You should’ve known better. Dad drilled it into your brain time and time again to always be aware of your surroundings.  

There was no such thing as a coincidence. Things happened for a reason, and it was up to you to detect any signs of danger at any given time.  

The same could be said for that fateful night. You were feeling a bit overwhelmed by a journalist at a charity event. She kept asking probing questions—a few hitting too close for comfort about your identity.  

How ironic that you attended every event the rumored Wayne heiress organized and knew so much about her personal affairs. What a coincidence how reporters asked you questions like you were the boss..  

The curious woman would not leave you alone! Her mindless chitchat felt more like an interrogation by the minute. You feared your identity was compromised after one of her questions rang true, but she simply laughed it off and said that if you were indeed a Wayne, “You’d be way prettier.”  

Whatever that meant.  

Perhaps the comment hit hard since your longtime friend/rival, Lana, stole attention from the fund raiser with her scandalous outfit. The brunette reeked of new money and had an ego the size of Metropolis, demanding attention wherever she went.  

Her appearance ruined your event for helping orphaned kids and turned it into a mini Met Gala. You had every right for storming out to scream into the back alley. She never failed at ruining things!  

You were really letting your frustration be heard when a whistle nearby startled you. 

“Listen to the pipes on that one.”  

You quickly stopped screaming once you realized that you weren’t alone. A lone male was smoking in the same alley, and he locked eyes with you once he caught your attention.  

They were an unnatural green that felt familiar however, you couldn’t place where you might’ve seen them before.  

“By all means... don’t let me keep ya from your.. uhh temper tantrum.” He blew a long puff of smoke into the night air.  

At first you were in shock, but that reaction soon turned into irritation. Just who did he think he was talking to you like that? “I am not having a tantrum thank you very much a-and... you can’t smoke here!”  

He simply chuckled while taking another drag. You crossed your arms and tapped your heels on the concrete as you waited for a response. This guy was something else.  

“Hello? Did you hear me?” You added.  

“Yup.” He popped the letter p, “Loud n’ clear. Pretty sure this area is ah... employees only. Ya wouldn’t catch me smokin’ if ya weren’t out here being a brat, hm?”  

He had a point, but you still scoffed at his choice of words. You had the idea of using your title as the boss of this event to get him fired; yet he would surely talk and by morning, Gotham City would know that you’re a Wayne. That was the last thing you wanted; however, it was worth the hassle if it got rid of him.  

For now, all you could do was shake your head at this strange man breaking your employee’s no smoking rule. You personally selected all the staff for the event and your security team performed background checks on everyone to ensure your safety.  

The gentlemen sitting before you did not jog your memory.  

His presence made you uneasy and you took a step back, “Do I know you?”  

He snorted, smoke emerging from his nostrils in comical puffs. “Uh no, but I knoooo~ooow you.” 

The blood in your veins ran cold when the stranger stood up and stepped into the light. “Didn’t your dad tell ya not to talk to strangers Miss Wayne?” He said mockingly.  

You took one look at The Joker’s grotesque scars and turned to run.  

Joker grinned and let you have a running start although you didn’t get far. Your feet got caught in your dress fabric and made his job relatively easy. The two of you tumbled to the ground, Joker landing on your back, but that quickly changed with a sharp elbow to his nose.  

You didn’t stick around to see if your hit landed, you just scrambled to your feet and tried to reach for the back door when a hand grabbing your ankle disrupted your sense of balance. One second you were upright, the next, you were on the ground seeing double vision.  

Joker didn’t think you’d put up much of a fight. His research into you was limited, but he doubted that you had any of the fighting skills your father was notorious for.  

Technically he was right. You had taken up self defense training from Jason and he reported that you sucked at it.  

Despite your lack of skills and concussion, you weren’t going down without a fight. One of your nails scratched Joker’s elongated smile causing it to bleed and suddenly, he had enough of your little games.  

You were making too much noise, and his window of opportunity to kidnap you was running out. If he didn’t move you soon, his plan would be ruined. You just had to make things difficult for him.  

“Alrighty Y/n, time for a little nap. Shhhhh... shh easy now.” Joker dodged your wild punch to his face as he dug a syringe out of his pocket.  

The sight of it made you panic and fight back harder but your scream of help was drowned out by a roar of applause from inside. The auction must’ve ended with a success. Joker pierced your skin and watched the milky white substance disappear into your system.  

It was cold seeping into your veins as you still tried to fight back.  

“Aht ahttttt don’t fight it. Let it happen.” Joker crooned into your ear; not like you could hear him. Your body felt so heavy, you lost function of your limbs so suddenly it was terrifying.  

The Joker’s obnoxious laugh sounded miles away from you. When your eyelashes fluttered closed, Joker knew victory was his.  

The environment that you woke up in was dark and cold.  

Your limbs were still groggy with whatever The Joker had injected you with and after a few test stretches, you still had motion in them. Although it would do you no good. The distinctive sound of metal on metal gave away your current predicament. 

You were chained to something.  

You tried not to panic but you were unable to see anything a few inches in front of you much less see how far the chain allowed you to move. You felt something solid underneath you and concluded that it was some sort of mattress or padding. It was a small comfort while being confined in total darkness.  

Wherever you were, The Joker was to blame, and you weren’t going to let him have this much power over you. You had to find a way out before he started his sick form of entertainment.  

Every citizen of Gotham knew Joker’s M.O. You didn’t want to be tortured to death all for a laugh.  

You waited until your eyes adjusted to the dim surroundings before exploring how much freedom you truly had.  

You felt around in the darkness until your hands bumped into something solid. It was a surface with nothing that could help you escape on it, so you moved on. Minutes felt like hours as you stumbled through the dark, searching for anything useful. Just when you thought you were painting a clear picture of the room in your head, a door opened beside you.  

The blinding light was nothing compared to the searing pain of the door hitting you square in the face or that of the trauma caused by falling to the ground.  

The room was still spinning when your loudmouth got the better of you. 

“What’s your f__king problem?!” You cried out. You feared that your nose was broken, it sure felt like it with the amount of blood you felt gushing out. The Joker didn’t seem phased by the display.  

Instead, he stepped right over you and flicked on a light, blinding you in the process. “Errr let’s see... problems. MY problem.. Social injustice? Global warming…uhhh rush hour traffic?” Joker paused for dramatic effect and slowly turned to face you. You froze, feeling his emerald eyes rake over your form hungrily.  

The unnatural hue seemed to suck you in the longer you stared. “You.” Joker purred. 

“M-Me?” How were you a problem? He abducted you not the other way round! 

You had never crossed paths with the Clown Prince of Crime until tonight. The two of you couldn’t be more worlds apart. You stayed nose deep in your humanitarian work and out of any trouble whereas The Joker was trouble personified.  

The only thing that linked you to Joker was your father, yet you doubted the clown was smart enough to put all the puzzle pieces together to uncover that.  

You prayed that this was all some sort of misunderstanding but judging how The Joker was staring, your hopes began to shatter one by one.  

You instinctively shielded your body from the known threat and in doing so, your skin brushed against unknown material. The formal dress you originally wore for the evening was gone and replaced by a thin t-shirt and baggy men’s pants. The implications were not lost on you. 

You turned to glare at the madman before you. “Who changed my clothes!?” If you were able to blush, you knew you’d be redder than a tomato.  

This man obviously had no respect for women. He simply threw his head back and laughed, “The pleasure is allllllllllll mine.”  

You failed at hiding your full body shudder and even worse, you were unable to silence yourself from talking trash. “Screw you.” You regretted saying it the moment you opened your mouth.  

The room suddenly got quiet. Joker sauntered his way over to your mattress and crouched down so he could be eye level with you. He admired the fire burning within your e/c eyes for a time. Such a strong wielded fire, it was beautiful to behold. If Joker had his way, there would only be smoking embers after he had his fun. He would make sure of it.  

The Joker always had an air of drama about him, and it took center stage as he spoke to you. “Ya wanna.. know something? You should be lucK-yyyy my boys didn’t change ya. They would’ve loved to uh.. what did ya say? Screw you.” 

His choice of words held more meaning as he tried to brush a few strands of hair out of your face. You shut down that idea by chomping at his fingers the second they were within your reach.  

You refused to sit around like some damsel in destress until dad or one of the boys came to rescue you. You would fight back even if it killed you. 

To Joker, your little stunt was comical. You could rebel all you wanted; your antics would never compare to what he had in store for you.  

He simply wagged his paint-stained fingers at you like a scolding parent and insulted you further. “Mm, feisty! I like thaT. But that’s no way to behave while you’re here. No noooo. No. You are a verry special guest, Y/n!” 

Joker walked over to the table that you found earlier. You watched as he pulled out a tripod and took the time to set up a camera in your general direction. Once it was positioned to his liking, he mashed a button—and to your horror, a red light began to blink. 

“Tada! May I present.... Y/n, my lead-ing lady in this uh.. short film of mine! The title you ask? Why it’s, How to Break Batman’s Little Girl 101!”  

Joker’s words were like a sucker punch to your gut. They bounced off the thick walls of the room and echoed back in your eardrum's times a hundred. Your worst nightmare was happening right before your eyes. Not only did someone know who you were, but dad’s long kept secret was out—and his arch-nemesis of all people, knew about it.  

You were blinking a mile a minute and Joker thought your lips flailing like a fish was oh so adorable. Kissable really but he shook that odd thought away.  

He hyped up his performance so much, you weren’t sure if he was addressing you or the camera at this point.  

“Oh come now, Y/n. Don’t act so sur-prised! I knew Bats’ secret for years now. We are friends ya know.... Mmm on second thought. Ya might wanna work on the security Batsy.. I just so happened to waltz in and steal your precious.... and might I add.... beau-ti-ful daughter away easy peasy. Did I mention she’s verrrry beautiful?”  

You snapped out of your panic by Joker’s fingers grazing your cheek. Your response was instinctive by slapping his hand away. “Don’t touch me!”  

Joker wasted no time reacting to your outburst. His gentle touch turned cruel and struck your face hard enough to turn it sideways right into the wall.  

He quickly grabbed ahold of your jaw and yanked you back upright. You were forced to bear witness to his self-inflicted scars, all jagged and swollen up close. It was a permanent reminder just how insane this man truly was. Joker’s nails dug into your cheek and for a split second, you genuinely feared this man.  

His green eyes were almost electric staring into your soul. “You’re mine now and I’ll touch ya however I want. Got thaT?”  

Joker saw the insult queuing up in your brain and squeezed your face tighter in his grasp. You whined but still managed to part your lips to respond. “I’m not yours.” You growled.  

A brief staring contest ensued. Green verses your e/c.  

Joker admired your bravery; you questioned his sanity. He dressed the part of a gentleman with his three-piece suit and coattails (despite the outlandish colors) yet he was so far removed from the title. He was unpredictable in every sense of the word that you weren’t sure if you would survive a moment longer in his presence. 

You were confident that someone would come save you, Joker thought you were too naïve to understand the gravity of your situation. In any case, he would have ample time to extinguish the fire blazing in your eyes before someone started searching for you.  

He was so caught up crafting his mental plans, he didn’t notice the glint in your eye right before you bit his hand.  

It hardly phased him and for your efforts you received a rough shove towards the ground. Thankfully the mattress softened the blow however you still had the strength to glare at The Joker in disdain. 

“Let’s see how long that feisty streak of yours last hmm?” Joker chuckled under his breath and walked over to the door.  

The sudden change in brightness blinded you again but this time you caught a glimpse of a bulky man guarding the door before he and Joker disappeared from sight. 

Finally you were alone with your thoughts. The first thing you did was let out a shaky sigh and glance at the camera still recording you. The Joker didn’t turn it off and you concluded its sole purpose was to monitor you and collect material for the ransom cd your dad would receive. 

You choked back a sob just thinking about dad. He would be beside himself knowing you were abducted. Finding out that his greatest enemy took you would be a low blow—one you hoped he would overcome in order to rescue you. Dick and Jason would steer the detective in the right direction but with every hour that passed, you knew dad would slowly lose his mind. He knew firsthand what Joker was capable of. Your nose throbbed bitterly as a harsh reminder.  

There was nothing stopping the clown from killing you if he simply became bored.  

If only you took dad’s words to heart and abided by his strict security measures. You had snuck away from your detail for a bit of privacy. Now you regretted that dumb decision. You were in Joker’s clutches with no chance of escape, and it was all your fault.  

He chained you to a bedpost like some animal and now that there was light in the room, you could see it in its entirety.  

It was a mini prison right down to the bare necessities. The Joker had every intention of keeping you here, cut off from Gotham City, most likely below ground to disrupt the bat tracker embedded in you since childhood.  

You scratched at your wrist, praying that it miraculously still worked despite the odds. Surely your father, the world’s greatest detective, could locate his daughter with much less. 

It was the only reassurance you had.  

You were getting tired overthinking your predicament. There was nothing you could do at present, so with one last hesitant glance at the video recorder, you tried your best to get comfortable on the mattress and fall asleep. 

That became your routine. Time held no value anymore.  

Was it a few days? Weeks? Longer? How were you to know? You were confined to four concrete walls with no form of contact, save for the ever present blinking red light watching your every move.  

You were forced to use the horrendous facilities they called a bathroom, and meals (which were surprisingly great) were brought to your room like clockwork while you were asleep.  

You began to look forward to the tray that would magically appear on your table. It was the only connection to the outside world you had, and you didn’t take it for granted.  

There was always a special treat on your dinner plate and it never failed at putting a smile on your face regardless of being a prisoner. You tried to keep a grip on your sanity with these small bouts of happiness, but it was obvious what angle Joker was playing at.  

He was using isolation to mentally break you and it was working. 

You thought being locked away all alone would be easy, but the constant silence was unbearable and before long you began to fear when Joker would return.  

Not fearing him specifically, but of what you might do for a sliver of human interaction.  

That visit came unexpectedly. You woke up from a nap sensing a presence inside your room. Sadly, you had embraced having hallucinations during your lengthy stay here, but this one felt a little too real.  

Something didn’t feel right. “H-Hello?”  

The door was still closed with the lights dimmed and there wasn’t a tray of food dropped by, so you glanced near the bathroom area on pure instincts. Nothing was inside the room except that camera that you loathed so much. Its constant flashing light both annoyed and comforted you. At least you weren’t completely alone.  

You sighed to yourself and was about to fall back asleep when you felt something move behind you. Joker’s laugh blended in with your scream as you tried to scramble away.  

You didn’t get far given that Joker dragged you back towards him.  

The last thing you expected after waking up was a man lying in the same bed as you. It was a natural response to freak out, especially since it was The Joker pinning you to the mattress. “YOU SICK F__K! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?”  

You didn’t see the way Joker's eyes glazed over or the way his hands tightened around you before he grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Have I lost my… have I.. losT my mind?”   

You tried to pry his hands off you, but Joker was just too strong as he continued to repeat your question over and over. His manic laughter was deafening in your ear. “Have I lost my mind, Y/n? Or have you?”  

You looked up into pools of jade that glinted mockingly down at you. “What are you...?” 

Joker cut you off by directing your gaze to the camera in the room. “Did ya forget I’ve been watching you this entire time doll? Talking to yourself, your uh... hopeless words of affirmation? Oh Dad will come, he’ll come save me! Hang in there, Y/n! You’re so braaaaaave and strong!”’ 

Joker’s imitation of your voice was cringeworthy as he repeated your own words out loud. He mocked your defiant spirit and hopes of escape as if it was a joke. Strangely enough, Joker’s tone softened, and he sounded sincere with his next angle of attack.  

“You just don’t get iT. Daddy’s not coming Y/n. No one knows you’re missing, and nooo one cares either. It’s been a month now doll. If Daddy Bats really cared about his precious daughter, he would’ve rescued you by now don’tcha think?” 

Joker was just messing with you. This was another tactic of his to break you down. He was a master of manipulation and his way with words was just as dangerous as his work with knives. His sole existence was to harm others and yet with your fragile state of mind, a part of you believed him.  

You couldn’t believe that a month had passed with no one trying to find you. Was Joker telling the truth?  

It was too absurd to believe. “N-No....  no dad cares about me. He wouldn't.... he wouldn’t give up..” You whispered. You didn’t know who you were trying to convince here, you or The Joker.  

He must’ve seen the doubt starting to creep in for he pushed you a little further. “Are you sure, Y/n? He’s a uh, busy bat! Fighting crime always comes first, you know that better than anyyyyy one. He’s never had time for you...” Joker smiled, watching you blink back tears.  

He enjoyed every minute of tearing down your defenses one lie at a time.  

He leaned away and bit back a smile when you followed, seeking his contact. You were making this child’s play for him.  

“Bats always sent ya away when you were younger. Never letting you err.. blossom to your fullest. He hid you away because you were a failure to him. A mistake. He never cared about you! But guess whaT?”  

Joker waited until you looked up into his grassy green eyes. Were they always so expressive or was it your imagination that made them sparkle? It was the first source of human contact you had in who knows how long. You felt special to have The Joker staring at you the way he was.  

The air in the room was filled with static energy as you waited for Joker’s next words. You craved validation, acceptance, and attention at a time like this. The Joker had starved you for far too long in isolation.  

His hand raised up and softly caressed the side of your face and you missed how his eyes lingered on your lips longer than intended.  

“I care Y/n.” He chuckled seeing you pout, “I mean iT! I’ve been so ah.. cruel to ya. I should’ve treated you better. You want me to treat ya better doll?” 

Joker leaned forward and kissed both of your cheeks. The contact made you jump and blink up at him in shock. If he couldn’t hear your heart beating wildly, then he was deaf.  

You soaked up his form of human contact like a sponge. How long had you been wasting away in this room?  

Was it really a month like Joker had said? Right as Joker was leaning down to kiss you properly, you had a moment of clarity.  

Who was to blame for you being trapped in here? Why were you here in the first place? The answer was right in front of you, buttering you up with sweet lies and fake affection. Joker was playing you like a fiddle, and you were weak enough to fall for it.  

Not anymore.  

The Joker was the enemy. He was full of lies. Dad would never abandon you so why were so inclined to believe this green haired clown? No amount of isolation, no form of torture, could break you to believe such. You couldn’t give up so easily. You were a Wayne. You were born a fighter.  

Joker’s scarred lips ghosted against yours as you shoved him away. “You are nothing but a liar.”  

You enjoyed his brief moment of shock before his eyes cooled into the hard emeralds that they were. 

And just like that the act was over. One second you were in the comfort of Joker’s arms, the next you were tossed aside like trash and his true colors were revealed.  

He towered over you like a titan as you tried to back away but there was simply nowhere to go. You were at Joker’s mercy, and he spared you none. Each kick to your body made you cry out for Joker to stop but he didn’t listen, rather he laughed and kicked harder.  

You grabbed his ankle and begged him to stop but he jerked free and stomped on your wrist in retaliation. The audible crack was background noise to your earsplitting scream— yet it was all music to Joker’s ears.  

He enjoyed the pain of others and yours was icing on the cake.  

You sounded so pretty, so helpless and filled with anguish. He wanted to hear more. He was obsessed. How far could he push you until you gave under pressure? 

Two knocks on the door stole Joker’s attention and his eyes watched as another person entered the room. Joker knew who it was. Anyone else wouldn’t dare enter while he had his fun.  

Frost took one look at you sobbing on the floor before he focused his attention back on his boss. “We got trouble.”  

Joker rolled his eyes at Frost for interrupting his fun although it was probably for the best. He didn’t want to break you just yet. Slow and steady won the race and he had all he time in the world to do so.  

He might’ve went overboard today judging by how you visibly flinched when he moved in your direction, but he knew you’d bounce back defiant as ever. You had to.   

“You’ll have to uhh, excuse me Y/n. It seems.. I’m needed elsewhere. Don’t. You. Move.” He patted your head and laughed all the way out the door.  

The heavy sound of it closing did little to silence your tears.  

The pain was nothing. You were more upset with yourself for not being stronger. Joker was destroying your fighting spirit in record time and you were powerless to stop him.  

The bruises never faded, and it made sleeping even more difficult on your worn mattress.  

Sure, Joker was considerate enough to cast your broken wrist, but it was a small gesture compared to the verbal and added physical abuse he bestowed upon you daily.  

You became Joker’s personal punching bag and there was no end in sight to your suffering.  

Each time the door opened, you were forced to endure Joker’s twisted mind games or his heavy hand. It didn’t matter that you were a woman, in his eyes you deserved every ounce of pain that he inflicted. And when he finally left you bleeding and holding back tears, your own thoughts tortured you some more. 

Did father really abandon you? How was the world’s greatest detective, renowned for his state-of-the-art technology and gadgets, unable to locate his only daughter?  

The days blended together and all the hope you originally had of being rescued, diminished.  

The Joker enjoyed his daily visits with you but he could tell that it wasn’t enough. Your body was obviously battered yet your mind remained intact.  

You still possessed a thread of hope that made you defiant to the end. You spat in Joker's face whenever he was in range, and you rolled your eyes at his half-hearted jokes about killing you.  

“Then do it.” Your snide remarks often led to more beatings that did little to fulfill Joker’s goal.  

Nothing seemed to be working to ultimately break you, so he decided to try a different angle. 

You woke up to the smell of food in the air. Your stomach growled in want, but the reset of your body hurt too much to move. You debated skipping eating all together in favor of rest however that choice was made for you.  

“Sit up.” 

His voice. The root of all of your problems. You didn’t have the strength to be bothered with him today.  

Joker waited for you to move yet when you remained lying down, he became agitated. “I won’T re-peat myself doll.” 

Your voice cracked with your response. “I can’t. It hurts.” You just wanted to be left alone, to hurt in peace but Joker controlled everything here. As if you had a choice to begin with. 

“Lemme help you.” 

Just hearing the offer gave you the strength to flip over to face him. Surely he was joking. He wanted to help you?! After all he did? Screw the consequences, you had to speak your mind. 

“Help me? You want to help me? Okay then. Go away! Far… far away and leave me alone! Or even better! Let me go!  What’s the point of keeping me here? What do you want from me?!”  

During your speech you began to cry and Joker (for the first time in his life) felt guilty. Your timeless beauty was marred by cuts and bruises that he caused, and he couldn’t justify his actions for creating them.  

Somewhere along the way Joker lost focus of the mission.  

It was all a game— to get at Batman but along the way Joker saw how strong you truly were. Anything he tossed your way, you deflected it with ease. You never faltered, never lost hope. Even now as you lay weak and hungry, your eyes set him ablaze.  

You had won, he just didn’t know at what.  

Joker didn’t know what else to do with this failed experiment of his. One thing was certain, he wasn’t letting you go. There was something about you that he couldn’t put his finger on.  

Your rant fizzled off as you stared at Joker.  

There was an odd gleam in his eyes that you were wary of. He looked lost in thought and when he snapped to, you were shocked to see a genuine smile appear on his lips.  

You feared what his thoughts could lead to.  

To mask your fear, you rolled your eyes at his lack of an answer and reached for your dinner tray. Your groan of pain made Joker wince. Were you really in that much pain?  

Without thinking, he smacked your hand away and stabbed a portion of food with the provided fork. The two of you stared at each other in silence waiting for the other to make a move.  

“I can feed myself.” You grumbled.  

Joker gave you an, ‘are you sure about that’ look and tapped the fork to your lips.  

Just thinking about moving used up too much energy and your muscles begged for you to take him up on the offer. The Joker, Gotham City’s notorious criminal, wanted to feed you dinner; who were you to deny him?  

You begrudgingly opened your mouth while looking away from his smug green eyes.  

The act was so demoralizing, but you kept your cool while chewing in silence and opening your mouth for the next morsel.  

Just to be cheeky, you closed your lips around the fork and refused to let go. Joker didn’t think it was funny but he entertained your bratty behavior nonetheless. He considered stabbing your tongue—but thought against it. There was no need to be violent.  

He was trying a different angle to this whole hostage situation he created. Your defenses were down tonight and he would be a fool not to take advantage of them.  

A quick glance to his right confirmed that the video camera was still recording. Perhaps it was time to send a message to daddy dearest and make some progress.  

You were under the impression that Joker was taking pity on you with his nice guy act. He was patient, feeding you bites of food and not shoving it down your throat like he’d done in the past when you tried starving yourself.  

He was being.. (dare you say it) nice. You should’ve known it was too good to be true.  

He finished feeding you and you thought he was moving onto the slice of cake that was on the tray. You had been eyeing it since Joker uncovered it and you licked your lips thinking about the delectable treat.  

It would have to wait. There was an ominous shift in the air that completely blindsided you.  

Joker didn’t know what came over him. He didn’t have any plans when he entered your room tonight. It was supposed to be a simple food drop—nothing more, but the moment his eyes landed on you curled up on the mattress resting so beautifully, what left of his demented mind, checked out early.  

This past month and a half was filled with harsh lessons and far too many close calls. Batman and his ban of birds did everything in their power to find you and they almost succeeded once or twice. 

Thankfully Joker was smart enough to place you inside a shipping container so you could always be mobile and out of reach. You hardly noticed the frequent moves since he coordinated them during your sleeping hours. It also ensured your meals were always hot and fresh since they could just travel to wherever Joker deemed fit to your standards.  

Everything was planned down to the smallest detail, everything except developing feelings for you.  

Now that was out of Joker’s control.  

Underneath the clown façade, Joker was still a man and you were absolutely stunning with your aristocratic beauty and educated mind.  

Your fierce personality drew him in despite you being a means to an end. You were supposed to be a form of entertainment, a toy until Joker got bored and let Batman have his daughter back but over time, Joker became attached to you in an unhealthy way. 

You were Joker’s property, his special secret hidden from the world to do with as he so pleased.  

He stopped hitting you and allowed you time to heal due to some unknown form of guilt. More and more tasty desserts were included with your meals to make up for his abusive behavior, and unbeknownst to you, Joker watched you sleep every night.  

There was something soothing watching you blissfully unaware of the monster in your bed. He could slit your throat in your sleep but he didn’t. No, that would be a waste.  

Joker found it better to sleep beside you and hold you close. He knew you would freak out if you knew all the liberties that he took while you were asleep.  

From tracing your major arteries with a knife to leaving lipstick marks all over your skin—his feelings for you were disturbing and perfectly justified in his opinion.  

Joker didn’t want the traditional lovey dovey crap most couples shared because he wasn’t normal. He wanted to own, to control, to destroy you completely and then protect the broken pieces that remained. 

There was no concept of love in Joker’s mind and there never would be. Seeing you so docile as he fed you was the breaking point. He got a taste of your submissive side and craved more.  

Why couldn’t you just give in and break already? You brought this upon yourself. You forced Joker to do this. 

He blocked out the sound of your cries and wrestled your arms down to onto the mattress. His only goal was to get you naked and when you began to struggle more, he took matters into his own hands. 

Joker grabbed the army knife from his pocket and sliced your clothes off. One motion caught your skin and you howled as the sharp metal tore it open. Joker saw red bubble to the surface and dove down to lick you clean.  

He didn’t like hearing your voice filled with pain. It distracted him from getting hard and after staring you in the eye, you quickly got the message. Keep quiet or else.  

You tried not to make a sound louder than your whimpers. You didn’t want to provoke Joker’s wrath.  

“Much better. So pretty.” Joker hummed to himself when you were laid bare beneath him although he frowned seeing tears staining your cheeks. “Shhhhhh, hey hey. Look at me... Behave and it won’t hurT.”  

He watched your lip wobble as you remained quiet. Your wrists were being held down by Joker’s hand, leaving you powerless to squirm away and he loved the power scale tipping in his favor. Good. You would always be beneath him.  

He struggled a bit to unzip his fly but managed to get his cock out without letting you go. A shame you were being bratty and didn’t prepare yourself for this. He really had to do everything around here.  

Joker spat on his hand and worked it up and down his cock, groaning to himself at the feeling. His eyes roamed over his doll and admired your beauty mid stoke. You had curves in all the right places that begged to be fondled. He wanted to touch them, but if he let go of your hands, you would act out.  

He could see the fire burning in your eyes. If he gave you an inch, you’d take a mile.  

Yet it was criminal not to mark you up the way he wanted.  

Joker sighed as he lined himself up with your pussy. You panicked and tried moving away from his tip tapping your opening with heavy slaps to no avail.  

“Are ya gonna behave doll?” 

He shifted his weight and applied more pressure on your healing broken wrist when you continued to rebel. The searing pain made you bite your lip and cease struggling altogether.  

“Now. Are you gonna be a errr.. good doll for me n’ stay realllllllly still?” Joker sang.  

Your lip curled back, ready to cuss him out, instead a loud scream took escaped your lips as Joker began to force his way inside your dry entrance.  

It burned. It ached. He was tearing you apart and you shook your head in agony as it continued without end. You didn’t think about the consequences, you bucked your hips away from the unwanted invasion.  

You knew you were in trouble the moment Joker said your name in warning. 

“What. Did. I just say doll? Dumb b___h.” 

Joker let go of your wrists to hold your hips instead. Once he found purchase, he began thrusting in and out of your pussy. His pleasure was your torment. Your silent tears spurred him on and he swatted your hands away that tried to push him off.  

Nothing would stop him after he got a taste of you. He was an idiot for not taking you sooner. 

“Haha, you’re grippin’ me soooooo tight doll. Ease up for me!” Joker groaned louder to drown out your pathetic pleas. He would not slow down; you were too perfect to stop now.  

He noticed the camera in the corner and got an idea. “Are ya enjoying yourself, doll? Why don’tcha give the ah.. a-audience a good show? Go on. Tell him how you feel.”   

You forgot all about the recorder in the room! Your sharp gasp was music to his ears. You tried to turn away, but Joker would have none of that. He grabbed your jaw and forcibly turned your face towards the lens. Your tears were a paid actor for his production.  

“Ya see that Bats? ThaT, oh f__k... t-that is the face of your failure. She’s all mine and I’m gonna take ahaha.. verrry good care of her. All mine.. d__n it..” Joker choked back a moan and licked the tears from your face as he sped up his thrusts. If he kept this up, he would cum before the fun really started. Although he shouldn’t have to be the only one getting off.  

With a smug grin, he snaked a hand down to rub messy circles on your clit.  

The response was instantaneous. You threw your head back with a mewl on your tongue. He felt the result of his adventurous touch the same time you let out an unexpected moan. “Oh? Ya like that doll?” He mocked.  

He laughed at you trying to deny deny deny but your body was speaking on your behalf.  

You tightened around him and he felt the slick begin to coat his cock. He arched an eyebrow at the sudden turn of events. You really were enjoying this. He wondered... 

He stroked your clit faster and was rewarded by another sweet moan gracing his ears. His doll made the prettiest sounds under distress. He could see the confusion dancing across your features.  

“Ohhhhhh Bats! You have a naughty.. naughty girl! Enjoying my touch after begging me to stop just minutes ago? Ah.. mmm, it's okay doll! M-Moan louder. Enjoy ittt, I know I am. Mm, you feel better the uh wetter you become.” 

Joker stopped mid thrust when you clenched down unexpectedly on him. Were you trying to crush him to death?  

He wondered if you could feel him throbbing in your pussy. Your tiny fists were beating on his clothed chest but there was no point in pretending.  

You were enjoying yourself and if he was correct to assume, you were getting close. You just needed a little push and Joker had just the thing.  

“I knew you were secretly a whore. Only dirty sluts get off on being used like a toy. Hehe. It's a-always the quiet ones f__k!” Joker chuckled to himself followed by a shuddering groan. You were very close. He had to act fast.  

Without warning he bit down hard on your shoulder. You moaned out before covering your mouth with your hand. It was too late; Joker already knew what kind of woman you were. He bit harder and rejoiced as blood bubbled up to the surface to coat his lips. Finally, he was marking you up the way you deserved.  

He sped up his thrusts, laughing at the sloppy sound of wet skin on skin in the room. His cock happily slid in and out of your pussy now that you were horny.  

You were shaking your head in denial even as your legs shivered on Joker’s shoulders. He licked the fresh bite mark clean before whispering in your ear.  

“Let go Y/n. Shatter into a thousand tiny lit-tle pieces— and when you snap them back together, I'll be righT here to ruin you all over again. And again. And again. I will always break you just the way you need. The way you deserve. So go on. Do itttt. B-Break for me.... For us.”  

Joker thought you were beautiful before, seeing you admit defeat and cum was a vision from heaven.  

Your cheeks darkened in color as your lips parted like the sea to allow carnal bliss to fall from its depths. You twitched uncontrollably in Joker’s hold, and he was more than happy to pull you in close as you fell apart on his cock.  

You rode the wave of pleasure and swept Joker along with the force. He was caught off guard by your tightening cunt and came with your name a whisper on his lips.  

No drug could ever compare to the high you gave him.  

He saw new sounds and heard colors that he couldn’t name. His breath came in short pants as he came down. Words failed him, his head was still too foggy to process the world around him.  

What could one say after an orgasm that intense? He just came inside your quivering hole, and he already wanted to do it again.   

He couldn’t find the energy to even think coherently! All he could do was flop down next to you and sort out his senses in the right categories.  

His paint-stained hands wandered aimlessly and began playing with the ends of your hair, much to your horror. While Joker floated in post-coital bliss, you fell back to your harsh reality.  

You let this monster have sex with you and even worse, you enjoyed it.  

You felt dirty, cheap, a literal failure. You allowed The Joker to touch you, to make you feel good. You came from his ministrations. God, you could feel him softening inside your used pussy. Your inner thighs felt sticky, and you shuddered realizing that The Joker came inside you. The room began to spin as you spiraled into a panic attack.  

What would dad think when he found out? What if you became pregnant with this monster’s child. You felt sick to your stomach and feeling Joker playing with your hair, as if nothing was wrong, tipped you over the edge.  

“Don’t touch me!” You wailed. Your shout made Joker come to and instinctively hold you closer to his chest. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on inside your head, but you didn’t have to be so loud. 

“Doll... I ahh uh, already touched ya.” He rubbed up and down your back despite you flinching from his touch.  

You made eye contact with the video recorder in the corner and Joker curiously followed your gaze. Oh. That would explain your sour mood. You were smart and deduced what he would do with the footage. “Listen Y/n..” 

A knock at the door interrupted Joker’s sentence. He didn’t move an inch as he granted whomever on the other side entry.  

You tried maintaining your modesty but it was a useless effort. You were bare as the day you were born in Joker’s arms and he wasn’t letting you go. 

Joker’s henchman walked in and struck a conversation with the clown, pretended as if you didn’t exist. You wanted to crawl into a hole and die you were so embarrassed.  

You didn’t notice what was going on until Joker snapped his fingers in your face. “Huh?” 

Joker rolled his eyes at your lack of awareness. He sat up straight and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “I said..... take a bath while I’m gone. I uh.. took your chain off for ya.”  

He pointed at your bare ankle that was in fact free of the heavy metal. You twisted your leg, feeling the freedom granted to you.  

You wanted to thank Joker but he was already walking out the door with his henchman. And just like that, you were alone. The silence was unbearable as the full reality hit you full force.  

You didn’t fight back. Why did you give in so easily? Why did you miss the warmth of Joker body against yours? Just what was wrong with you for craving his touch?  

Screw taking a bath, you ran straight towards the toilet to empty your stomach.  

Sleep did not come to you when your mind was abuzz with doubt. 

You paced the room while biting your nails and reliving your time spent with Joker over and over. You were beyond restless thinking about your uncertain future. What would Joker do now that he got what he wanted? 

Would you be killed off and discarded like trash? Would your family be given the chance to mourn your passing? Would they even know what became of you? There were too many questions and not enough answers. One thing was for certain, you refused to sit around and wait for your fate.  

For some unknown reason Joker removed your chain. It was a sliver of hope that you planned on exploiting.  

The heavy metal door loomed in the distance. Before it served as a reminder of how trapped you were; now it was a shining beacon of hope. Either coincidental or simply a miracle, Joker also took the elusive camera with him. Nothing was stopping you from running, and nothing was holding you back.  

Joker had slashed your clothes to ribbons but the woolen blanket on the mattress was still intact for you to wrap around your body.  

It left you feeling far too exposed, but you had no other option available. Once covered, you padded over to the door and turned the handle to freedom. 

The hallway was dark and ominous before you.  

You weren’t sure if you wanted to venture into the unknown. You looked at the barren cell you were forced to inhabit and back into the dark void, weighing the odds.  

You took the first step, then another, and another until you were walking with haste—desperately searching for an exit.  

Your heart was beating loudly in your ears as you stumbled across a door with light poking out underneath the frame. It was the only lead you had so far towards an exit. You slowly pushed it open and regretted it instantly.  

The room full of men all stopped their various conversations to stare you caught like a deer in headlights in the doorway. You quite literally walked into a den of wolves.  

“Well well. Look what we have here!” One guy catcalled.  

They all leered at your body poorly wrapped up in a blanket. It was obvious your purpose here at their hideout. Free entertainment.  

The door slammed shut behind you, trapping you again, only this time in far more hostile conditions. You berated yourself for leaving the safety of your cell if this was the cost. You could barely defend yourself against Joker. There were too many men here to even consider escaping.  

You backtracked right into a broad chest and the male laughed at you already cowering in fear.  

He roughly pulled your hair while another pair of hands ripped your blanket away to knead your breasts. Whistles and laughter broke out in the room at the sight. “The Boss been keepin’ this from us!? Look! She’s freshly used too!”  

You screamed as fingers stabbed their way into your cunt and explored inside. Their hands weren't like Jokers. There was no pleasure to be gained here and unlike before, your body did not warm up to the stimuli.  

You were in pain as they groped and fondled your body and despite Joker being the origin to all your problems, you cried out his name to save you. 

Someone yanked your hair again before shattering all your hopes with a handful of words. “Ya think the boss is gonna help you? You are nuthin’ to him! Just a warm hole for him to use. And now it's our turn.” 

You closed your eyes to block out the pain. The last of your fighting spirit faded away as a lone tear rolled down your cheek. 

Frost and Joker were waking back towards your room when they heard the loud commotion coming from the common room.  

It was well in the night and nothing of note should’ve excited the men to be so rowdy. Most of them should’ve been on patrols in the first place.  

Frost merely shrugged his shoulders and followed his Boss.  

Curiosity killed the cat, but Joker was not so simple minded. He knew something was wrong. He wasn't religious by any means, but he prayed that this didn’t involve you.  

He barged into the common room ready to scold his men when his worst fears came to light.  

Joker didn’t think, he simply acted until nothing else stood in his way to get to you. Frost could handle the aftermath of his rage—you were the only constant in Joker’s mind the second he opened the door and saw you in distress.  

He left you just a few hours prior, safe and accounted for in your room. He left to prepare better accommodations to reflect your newfound status in his life. Joker took great care of his possessions, and you deserved better than being tucked away in some dingy shipping container. You didn’t belong on the floor like a cheap whore. No, you were worthy to be displayed, dressed up like the doll Joker wanted you to be. 

 Never did he imagine he would return to this. 

He fought his way to your side and fell to his knees by your side. His green eyes were wide with an unknown emotion as they took in your battered form.  

He didn’t want to touch and accidentally hurt you any further yet something about the thousand-yard stare in your eyes told him you were no longer here to feel anything at all. Joker knew how ruthless his men were, but this was barbaric.  

He didn’t regret killing them after what they done. His only remorse was not making them suffer more before death.  

Joker gathered you up in his arms and tried shaking you back into focus. “Y/n? Y/n, c'mon doll! Look at me.. s-say something!?” He pleaded.  

You mumbled something inaudible and curled up into a ball.  

Rage. Guilt and surprisingly shame. Joker’s mind was wild with this flood of new emotions.  

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t have a single cell of compassion in his body, yet the sight of his newest toy utterly broken (and not of his own doing) had him feeling remorseful.  

“I... I don’T.. I...” Joker gathered his thoughts with a deep inhale.  

Frost watched the intimate scene while kicking over a body. It was a bloody mess in here; however, that had to wait.  

Frost could tell his Boss needed some assistance. “I’ll run a bath.” Frost said offhandedly.  

It would point Joker in the right direction at least rather than rocking you back and forth on the floor to no avail. The comment snapped Joker out of his musing.  

Emerald eyes roamed over your sleeping form. “Bath. Y-Yeah uh she needs a uh.. bath.” 

He nodded to himself and slowly rose to his feet to carry you out of the common room. He passed up your old room in favor of his own that had more privacy. Not like it would matter. You had yet to speak.  

This was not the outcome Joker had planned. Even after he washed you clean and tucked you into bed— he sat by your side contemplating his next move.  

You were no longer the shiny doll he wanted on his shelf. His own men had ruined you. They took away your feisty demeanor and all conscience thought from you that made this game fun.  

Joker tried to get you to speak, to react to anything, but you remained stagnant, blinking owlishly at the wall until sleep finally took you.  Nothing of the defiant Y/n that Joker had grown to like remained.  

You left him with no other alternative. He got what he wanted, and it was time to move on.  

In three more days, it would mark your two-month long disappearance. Bruce would be a liar if he said he didn’t count the days if not the minutes that you were gone.  

He blamed himself for your capture and the boys tried their hardest to steer him in the right direction and not spiral into depression. Bruce loved all his children, but you were his by blood. You held a special place in Bruce’s heart and as such, he spent every waking second trying to find you. 

No expenses were spared, and any lead (no matter how small) were investigated. Joker was smart, but Bruce was smarter. He would find you.  

Dick and Tim investigated a possible lead and discovered where you were originally being held. You still had a sweet tooth and your favorite bakery recognized your custom order being placed and tipped off Wayne Enterprises about the person who picked it up. 

Unfortunately, The Joker moved you before Batman could arrive at the location but now they knew you were still alive. It strengthened their hopes in finding you safe and sound.  

Numerous rescue attempts were thwarted in the following weeks, but they never gave up. There would be another lead, they would have another chance to save you.  

All hope was not lost. 

Their patience was rewarded the day the Batcomputer picked up a signal on your tracker. It was finally online for the first time in months. Everyone scrambled to assemble at the pinned location. Bruce was ready for a fight and mentally prepared himself to do anything necessary to get you back.  

None of the boys were prepared to arrive at the back of your office building. It seemed to be a mistake, it had to be. Was Joker sending them on a wild goose chase? Bruce scanned the area but there was only one faint heat signature detected. His nerves were on edge, already assuming the worst.  

Bruce’s heart stopped beating when he saw a body lying in the delivery drop-off/ loading area. He didn’t wait for the others to secure the area. His father instincts were in overdrive as he rushed to your side, calling out your name.  

You were unresponsive with only a tattered blanket covering your shivering form. That’s when Bruce saw the bruises painting your body and the cast still present on your wrist. He didn’t want to believe that this battered woman was his spit-fire daughter.  

You were a shell of your former self when Bruce finally roused you awake. The fire that once blazed intently within your e/c eyes was gone and it was evident what The Joker did to you.  

“Bruce, look.” Dick said as he picked up something near your feet.  

Scattered around your body was a deck of playing cards. On the joker card a note was written in red.  

You can have her back Bats; I don’t like broken dolls. 

[wazzappp]

@quasar-crew MY BRAIN FINALLY LET ME FUCKING DRAW SHIT LETS GOOOOOOOO.

Ok so all of these ideas are seriously impacted by quaser and polarspaz's amazing fic which you can read here and also this one called undertow. The combined might of these two fics are giving me brainrot that could make Ethan Winters jealous.

I love seeing everyone give Leon mandibles. Seriously. Mandibles for the win. Bug boys stay winning ong frfr. BUT. I wanted to try and do something slightly different because I saw the regenerators in the remake and went JESUS CHRIST WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT ITS HORRIFYING and then proceeded to watch like 3 speculative biology videos about how they work.

I have given himb. Teef. When in doubt just add more teef this always works no exceptions.

I had some VERY OBVIOUS Xenomorph inspiration I'm not even gonna pretend like I didnt. However I am very proud of his tail. Ive essentially created a design that allows it to turn into a saw once its impaled someone. If the blade of the tail gets caught halfway through someones torso? Shaboom. The spines flex and you've got an automatic bone saw now cut that guy in half.

I also have some speculation about how the plaga itself mutates the body.

Given that in game the infecting agent is called a 'toxin' I can only assume that the plaga is mutating its hosts with a geneotoxin. A genotoxin is a chemical agent that causes chromosomal damage and/or mutations. Usually these mutations refer to cancer, but the plaga could absolutely be making something specialized to mutate a host in a way it deems beneficial. This would mean that the plaga would probably be pulling nutrients/calories/protien/WHATEVER it needs from Leons body, and using it to create and refine this toxin.

Also, the black blood vessels leads me to believe that the plaga is spreading this toxin through the cardiovascular system, so I made a diagram that includes 'barbs' in the left ventricle and left atrium. I figure the toxin would be essentially 'hitching a ride' to the oxygenated blood that would then spread throughout the entire body. That also got me thinking about how much I see Leon coughing up some kind of black substance. I think that could be his body purging materials that the plaga has deemed 'waste'. So genetic material that it doesn't think is needed would be coughed up. So. Uh. I guess he's basically coughing up his own rotten insides. That gets worse the longer I think about it.

[logan-lieutenant]

Am i the only one who's kinda insulted colapinto immediately insults logan after he crashs the car or am i reading to much into it like?????? Why are you insulting the guy who was so nice to you? And if ur not insulting him then why are you joking abouy his crashes like there funny????

Here’s what I have to say about Franco:

I definitely spent too much time on this, but receiving this ask absolutely BEWILDERED me so I went on an internet spiral to find what on earth it could be referring to before I found it. X, Instagram, Williams App, Motorsport.com. I looked everywhere for any sort of comment or criticism that could be called an “insult” from Franco and he hasn’t made any sort of statement, on socials or interviews, about Logan at all. Which, considering the media/PR hellscape Williams has now roped him into, is definitely for the best.

What I think you meant– I think– was Franco’s radio message right after he hit the barrier. An apology. “Sorry about that, guys.” Now this is where I guarantee you, you are reading too far into it. Drivers are well aware of the consequences of damaging their cars, especially at the beginning of a race weekend. Especially when the whole world is watching with as much ridicule and scrutiny as Williams is receiving now. They know how much the damage costs. They know their teams don’t have bottomless resources. They know that they’re not the ones who are going to have hours or days worth of nonstop work to do to clean up their mess.

Crashing is shameful. It’s embarrassing. It’s like throwing up on someone’s favorite shirt and then watching them hand wash it. Drivers apologize on the radio after crashing more often than not, even in different tones/wording. Logan did not invent dejection, he did not invent self-loathing apologies, he didn’t invent apologizing on the radio after a driver-error impact.

I’m a huge Logan Sargeant stan. The August 27th news hit me like a battering ram in the chest and I’m still in the process of catching my breath. I get that it’s so easy to have a natural, almost overeager resentment for his replacement. The fact that Franco’s media personality, the costumes they put on and stick to throughout their careers to make themselves likeable and recognizable, is so opposite from Logan. Cocky, confident, smooth-talker, upbeat.

But he isn’t in charge of his own image, even, none of them are. He’s walking on eggshells because he’s going to be met with backlash and hate from ex-Williams fans, Logan fans, people who think he can’t be good as a rookie, people who love to underestimate him. He doesn’t have an inch of room to make some kind of public image mistake. Also, he’s not even 25? I still consider that a kid. He’s a kid, he’s learning, he’s gonna be reckless and ambitious and trip over some hurdles trying to navigate the monstrous traveling circus of F1 for the brief time he has.

Also, speaking of mistakes– because Logan, the driver he’s replacing due to James Vowles’ erratic leadership, was famous for crashes and not much else– Franco knows that he can’t afford to show any similarity to that sort of pattern or else he’ll be finished. He’ll be a laughing stock, a mistake, a disappointment, another reason to shout, “Why would you do this?!” to Williams as a whole. Just like Alex, his performance on track has to do more than just carry them forward in the championship– they need something shiny and sparkly and impressive just to cover up the horseshit back in the garage. What happens to Franco if he fails to meet that standard?

He gets maybe one crash. One crash to burn. A single crash could be rookie error, overexcitement, getting used to a new track, any number of excusable mishaps. Anything else? He’s history. And before his second race out of his Formula 1 debut, he’s burned straight through it.

Just because he comes across as optimistic, proud of himself, excited, ready to race onscreen doesn’t mean that everything’s totally fine behind his yes. He’s under enormous pressure. Monumental stakes are weighing on his performance as an F2 rookie, as an F1 rookie, in someone else’s car, for the last third of an already-in-progress season. This could be his only chance to make an impact, to show his talent. And Williams have made that as difficult as it could be for him. Which they’re good at.

Just because Franco is performing better than Logan doesn’t mean he’s a participant in the insidious nightmare that is Williams management right now. He’s just a young driver they could have thrown into the wrong car at the wrong time. Sound familiar?

tl;dr I will defend Franco Colapinto as a temporary Williams driver and support Logan Sargeant as a survivor of abuse and those two things can exist at the same time

[beril66]

So I am reading banger character analysis of various necron characters from people like Ghost and Magistralucis so I wanted to put my two sents in about two things; the absolute HYPOCRISY of Orikan the Diviner and necrons as a whole;

Those who have read I&D no doubt remember the incredible Opera scene. It was probably the most profound part of the entire book; more than their hilarious feud , their team up aganist Orks and subsequent betrayals , their clashes of importance of culture and history and complete disregard of it even if its your own (put a pin on that we'll come back to this) , the heartwrenching flashes of memories or even the final kaiju battles at the end. These two old coots finally FINALLY have to breath methaphorically and just...talk.

Well mostly Orikan talks. Conveniently 'just' remembering it was Trazyn who dragged him into the biofurnaces (even if you think for a MOMENT it's while possible HIGHLY improbable.) So he engages Trazyn in the way it would impact him the most. Through cultural analysis. Both @ghostinthegallery and @magistralucis did analysis on these scenes better than I ever could and I want to a particular parts of Orikan's speech because even as I know practically nothing about 40k or necrons (I&D is my first 40k book) it always made me laugh out loud at the absolute GALL of it.

"Children of Important people, judging by their clothing, though Orikan had no interest in this world or its Byzantine ideas of hierarchy' and

"but we call each other low and bumbling because we are highly civilized"

I legit laughed myself silly here before the gut punch of their interaction continued because... the ridiculous amount of lack of self awareness and hypocrisy just absolutely stunned me.

This is the SAME species who before the biotransference killed each other for basically for sport.

The same species who calls those who are in the lower class as 'it' and has literal philosophical works that brings their SAPIENCE AND SENTIENCE into question (Aristotle would be PROUD)

The same species where a crown prince can get away with shooting 50 commoner soldier in the head as a 'LESSON IN RULING' .

Same species STILL in some cases look down on Imotekh the fucking Stormlord just because he is apparently a 'sandborne'.

Same species who turned their entire lives and culture into a death cult.

The same species who seem to ironically instead of uniting and searching for a cure of their condition just continue to paint galaxy in red with their own and other species blood.

The same race after Old Ones rejected them decided to not just fought aganist them but TRIED TO DESTROY EVERY OTHER PEOPLE THEY COME ACROSS until Old Ones kicked their asses enough.

Tangent here; I mostly agree Old Ones refusing to at least cure them of their cancers is a massive dick move but a counter argument can be made; if you saw a species like necrontyr spread in the galaxy conquering everything they see (and lets be honest here.. if they had vassal species they most likely treat them worse than any Sand born) and the only thing keeping them in check is their sickness , internal political bullshit and equevalant species...would you help them?

And after ALL OF THAT you just...turn each on other and start to REALLY go at it to the point you get the attention of hungry melicious star parasites.

After completely ignoring the increasingly desperate warnings of your almost always correct court astromancer and paint him as insane and a charlatan;

THEN these things, using higher echelon's desperation for eternal life fool you into turning your entire race into soulless terminators because suprise!! During your transformation of course the 'gods' duped you and not only they stuck you into sub-optimal metal coffins , not only (some lore bits implies nobility %100 aware and content) %95 precent of your population is lobotomized , not only you are made to forget %98 of your entire culture even forget where your homeworld is , not only you sacrificed every single class of your young children and will NEVER have future generations EVER, but the cherry on top of this shit cake is your souls are gobbled by said star parasites and also ALL of you, SK included turned into their slaves.

So you and your new masters start a 5 million years worth of war so horrific you give chaos such a power boost , killed about %80 of the galaxy , forced psykic frogs into tearing the first anus in reality and drove the possibly only species keeping the Chaos Gods in check into (possible) extinction. You fucked the afterlife for everyone else until the heat death of the universe in Milky Way.

After that little debacle you turn on your gods , fought them, shatter them (and 'kill' one that in some shape harmed the reality) then after seeing the absolute devestation your gods and kind inflicted go to 60 millions of years of sleep which lets be honest helped more than hurt as mental problems were cropping up BEFORE the end of the war (TDK)

Now you are waking up and did you learn ANYTHING from all of the 5 million worth of life experience?

They learned jackshit thats what happened. Every single sapient necron even the likes of Trazyn, even Zhandrekh are still making the SAME mistakes and inflicts same cruelties they kind always had done.

Trazyn is at the end of the day is a thief and a kidnapper. I&D happened BECAUSE he was so stubborn to steal that gem he wounded the World Spirit and caused the Deciever shard to gain enough power by sending some Aeldari souls his way before Slaanesh can take them. My guy killed an ENTIRE WORLD for a joke.

We all know the reason he is so obsessed with his work is to keep himself sane and have a purpose but just imagine the GOOD he can do. He library rivals the actual BLACK LIBRARY in universe. He tried to help at Cadia and it was amazing to see but at the end of the day even Trazyn didn't seem to grasp that the galaxy is dying in front of him and he can CHANGE that. Or unwilling. This is the worst attributes of the necrons; not caring when they actually really SHOULD.

Zhandrekh is as much as the setting allows is a good man. He could be considered kind even in Flesh Times. He is an honourable man. He is also a terrifyingly competent warlord serving Imotekh whose damage seems to be his insaitable desire to conquer and CONTROL (as much as we know GW for what? 8 years didn't characterized him other than "really clever , great general , obsession with proving his worth and control by dueling with strong opponents"). I think people forget about that about him. He didn't lost a SINGLE campaign aganist Imperium. My senile old sweet man is TERRIFYING.Not much more to say about him honestly he is a good dude in a horrific setting with dementia and married to his bodyguard.

Now lets come to Orikan. Orikan the Diviner is %100 has the right to be a resentful bastard to his own people. He tried so hard to stop the catasthrophy of biotransference. Not only he didn't succeed but they THROW HIM AGANIST HIS WILL into the fires.

What I really like about him however is while he is a venomous , back stabbing little bastard who takes a little too much pleasure of his people' suffering he has these...flashes that shows there is SOMETHING kinder underneath deep deep DEEP down. He didn't want to destroy Serenade. Interestinf thing about him is he only refers to humans as an "it" ONCE. And thats a corpse something even we do. These are very small but it shows Orikan ISN'T just a complete and utter douchbag XD

That being said Orikan abject denial of basically anything positive about anything or anyone necron or not shows how small minded he can be. His destruction of necrontyr artifacts, his dismissal of human anything without giving it a try (like apperantly SK prepared shadow puppet theater for palace kids? How is that a drivel Orikan???) Etc. He simultaneously despises everything necrontyr/necron that ISN'T his or Vishani's provess in their fields yet claims total superiority in everything Necrons do as he insults them. He is the single most hypocritical character bar chaos SM.

Don't get me wrong its a great character work and shows us how flimsy necron identity even is. Because minus general archetypes of their dynasties they have...none. Soulless God Killers isn't an identity. It's the curse of their entire species however metal (pun intended) it is to turn your treacherous gods into cattle. At the end of the day however advanced tech they possess or claims to have high manners (if they are sentient enough) or 'elegance' they are as barren as a civilization can get in all account bar tech.

And the fact that they can call themselves 'Civilized' making me giggle for the sheer absurdity of it BECAUSE they equate technological advancement as 'Cultured amd civilized'.

Necrons while I LOVE THEM and want them to have a happy ending (I want that for all species honetly everyone is horrible in 40k its okay :D) are the indisputed the WORST people in this shithole of a galaxy.

Imperium in many ways are lightyears ahead of us technologically would we call them civilized? Aeldari despite all their tech and arts were creating blood orgies on bodies of sacrificed children and I didn't met many people who would consider even the today's Crafworld Aeldari civilized.

Necrons are the same as these two. There is beside technology and cultural ticks no difference between them. Orikan calls the class system of Serenade 'Byzantine ideas' while he himself is subjected to the EXACT SAME THING in Mendragora court.

So if we rib on the Imperium and Aeldar...why shouldn't we on necrons?

All the races of the Milky Way are sides of a multi-faced coin (except Tyranids obviously). Bloodthirsty , cruel savages with certain exceptions in characters because they are marginally less shitty than the rest (Trazyn , Zhandrekh , Oltyx , Yenekh , Eldrad , Vulcan , Farsight , Shadowsun , Jaghatai Khan etc.) Who wants the same thing.

Necrons are just the most delusional of them all and its so tragic it loops back around to being funny. All races have fell from grace in Warhammer. The Necrontyr might be the only race started with very little redeeming qualities though. And the have not changed a SINGLE BIT in 65 fucking MILLION YEARS besides Oltyx (who because the Flayer King. A literal flesh tearing and wearing monster) . A single character. This is beyond horrific when you think about it.

Ironically in 40k DAOT humans might have been the most civilized race ever existed. They had peace treaties with ORKS. Interex have not eradicated Mega-arachnids just banished them to a world where they can live and let live. Diasporex just wanted to be left alone. Humanity even Aledari used to have compassion. Necrontyr and necron minus few never had that as a SOCIETY. Not to their own NOT to others. (I am not humans fuck yeah! In the slightest but...history speaks for itself)

And with their souls gone it seems something needs to shake them up so badly to start actual REFLECTION of eho they have been/who they are. Because with the way the are going...their minds will give long before their bodies do.

Sooo...this is my 'analysis' of the hypocrisy of Orikan and Necrons as a whole considering them so above all despite being in the same mudpit wirh other races. Would love to hear your opinions do you agree? Disagree?

[valenschmidt]

Stop. Just stop. Carlos and TK are two characters written as gay men from the very beginning. Their relationship has been the central relationship of the show from the first episode. The characters are portrayed by an out gay man and an actor who was able to come out publicly as bi because of the reception Tarlos and the show received from the audience. (With the exception of Buddie shippers who have been jealous and bitter about Tarlos from the start.) To dismiss an actual canon gay relationship, played by two LGBTQ+ actors as an experiment to convince Fox to allow Buddie to happen is just pathetic. Your so-called Tim/Buddie/Lone Star lore is nothing more than a delusion dreamed up by Buddie fans who couldn't handle that a) their ship isn't canon and b) that their ship isn't the most important thing in the world.

Ok first of all I am sorry if I actually made it seemed as if I don't respect Tarlos as a separate ship of buddie. I just explained what I believe is the reason for the creation of that relationship in particular from the same man who also created Buck and Eddie and honestly the fact that playing TK gave Ronen the courage to come out and live his true self is admirable and something to be proud and happy about and I am NOT dimishing the impact Tarlos has had on the lgbt community who has watched LS and feels represented in the characters...

Leaving that aside... so what if Carlos and TK were written as gay from the start??? What does that have to do with anything??? Buck is bisexual and he wasn't written that way from the beginning so you have a moot point there... Also, buddies are not jealous and bitter about Tarlos and never were Idk where you got that from. What I have seen is Tarlos shippers being horrible to buddies because even though Tarlos is canon and buddie is not, Buddie has more popularity (and that is probably because buddie has two more seasons of development in their relationship) and honestly it's sad that buddie is more popular because Tarlos are actually quite cute but sadly lack a lot of development. Again, this is NOT me disrespecting Tarlos. This is just an observation

Also, you cannot deny the amount of similarities between the four characters like they are literally right there so of course a lot of us believe that Tarlos could have been created because buddie was not allowed to be canon (which again doesn't diminish what Tarlos accomplished on its own it's just how that relationship was created) so no I don't believe it's a delusion ESPECIALLY after it was confirmed by Oliver Stark himself that the bi Buck storyline was actually pitched in to him during S4 but got shut down FROM ABOVE (since Tim was the one who approached him with the idea, the only "above" left is fox) and an insider confirmed that actually Eddie has always been a gay man and that buddie was supposed to happen in s4 but Fox didn't allow him (again which I suspect it was actually BECAUSE they weren't initially written as gay/bi)

And to finish... 1) My ship isn't canon but 1/2 of it has been confirmed bisexual last season and since the show isn't over there's still time and 2) No. Buddie is not the most important thing in the world but I'll say this: when they go canon (which they will) just go and check out the impact they're going to have -just like how bi Buck impacted social media-

Hope this helped anon

[twin-disaster-tutel-brainrot]

So I wanted to write a short post about Splinter's relationship with Donnie, but I realised I need to give it more context, so here we are. This is going to be an analysis on the similarities between Splinter and Donnie, and how those similarities affect their relationship.

Let's start with the easiest example, given to us in "Breaking purple":

(sorry for the bad quality gif)

Donnie, as we know, isn't good at understanding his own emotions and expressing them, and he's also not that good at understanding other's emotions. This video essay explains his low empathy really well.

Donnie doesn't know how to deal with emotions, so he does the next best thing - looks at adult example and copies it.

Splinter, while loving his sons and wanting the best for them, is objectively not the best father. He was thrown into fatherhood with no preparation after being imprisoned for over a decade and turning into a rat. He clearly has depression, has no friends, no support system, etc. And the only reference he has for parenting is his grandpa.

So similarity one, they're not good at dealing with emotions.

The second similarity is they're both bad at lying. And, more importantly, bad at noticing when they're being lied to:

(Arguably, you can say they were all too focused on trying to get away with their own lie, but I digress.)

Donnie needs to be said stuff directly. He's shown to not get sarcasm quite often:

And Splinter is shown multiple times to be quite unobservant:

Like, this gif is from when he grounds them, and he just accepts that those four flour sacks are his sons and moves on.

Which leads us to the third similarity, of them both missing obvious social cues. Donnie because of his social skills, and Splinter because he's unobservant.

There's more similarities, like their love of dancing for example, but the reason I gave those similarities is because I want to talk about their relationship.

Splinter, again, wasn't a very good father. He didn't know how to raise his children, but you can see he did make an effort. They all never hesitate to hug him, to call him Dad, and even when they find out Lou Jitsu is their biological father, they never doubt his role as their dad for a second. Which shows that even though he was neglectful, he did have a positive impact on their lives. They love him, and he loves them.

But, one line stood out to me the most, and that's this Donnie line:

Why? Because Splinter always looks extremely proud of his sons, and it sounds odd that he never told Donnie he's proud of him. And we know he desperately want to hear him say it:

So Splinter never told him he's proud of him, but he's also going to say it three times in this episode, only finishing the sentence once when Donnie isn't close enough to hear. Not only that, but the first instance is because Donnie made him a booster, which looks like a very minor thing, so he has no issue saying he's proud of them even because of the tiniest thing.

If so, then why is Donnie missing the verbal validation so much?

Splinter is not good with knowing when to express his feelings and how, and he's not really observant. Just like he never actually said he's proud of Donnie to Donnie's face in this episode, my guess he never said it to his face in the past too. Like, he tried, but he never actually finished the sentences when Donnie could hear, and he probably didn't even notice.

I'm also guessing he used acts to show how proud he is (for example, the fact he didn't hesitate to choose the Turtle Tank for the demolition derby shows how proud he is of Donnie's work), but because of Donnie's need to be told everything literally, he didn't feel the validation from him at all.

I feel like out of the four turtles, Donnie has the rockiest relationship with Splinter. He logs every interaction they have, doesn't immediately trust him when he offers to spend time together, gets mad at him the most often out of the four of them, etc. But you can also see he loves his dad, and he outright tells him this in "Turtle-dega Nights: The Ballad of Rat Man":

Anyways, I'm just really passionate about showing Splinter isn't just an abusive uncaring father, and showing that the turtles know this.

(Just learned there's an "alt text" option for images so I just removed the image id and turned it into alt text instead.)

[thesirencult]

YOUR CHOICES ARE YOURS FOR A REASON

Your choices are yours because they will impact YOUR LIFE. Not mommy's life or daddy's life, not your gossiping loving neighbour's life and certainly not your second cousin's ex girlfriend's sister's best friend's life. YOUR LIFE, is the one that will be impacted by the path you choose to follow.

Yes, I know. All of us up to some point wanted our parent's to be proud. Even people who hide it deep inside want to succeed just to get the "I'm proud of you" talk from their father. Guess what though ? Even though most people want their parents to be proud of them and follow their guidance, 95% of people are not truly happy in their life. This also goes for people who are trying to please their social circle or go and do what society deems "right". They are stuck in unloving marriages, work like slaves and go home only to plop on the couch and proceed to spend 6 hours on their phone watching other people live their dreams. That's a side picture I painted...

My dad wanted me to be a lawyer. When I chose to study History & Philosophy Of Science he was shocked. Why ? Cause that meant something to him. He has always idolized lawyers. He does not see that the ones who make it are extremely passionate and ambitious. I know that my dad still hopes I will one day get into law school. Sometimes he catches me working on my laptop and he sighs out loud (Eastern European Father ✅) and says "Everything is okay but you didn't get a law degree.". I'm like bitch stfu. I make my own money, I'm building streams of income that will allow me to be financially independent and to live wherever I want, what are you talking about ? The crazy thing is that my father was a business owner and always pushed me towards entrepreneurship! Even he did not escape the dogma of our society. Why would I do "The monk who sold his Ferrari" in reverse. Leave my passion and life's calling behind and move overseas to work in corporate America to have my soul sucked. He then laughs and proceeds to tell me a story about one of his friends who is loaded and his father always wanted him to be a doctor and made remarks all the time, even when he signed million $ checks !

If you know what you want to go after, you are lucky. Most people end up in sticky situations because they had no direction. They follow others' directions causing them to be unhappy and resentful. I made my choice because I loved my parents and I didn't want to have resentment towards them when I was waiting for my welfare check. No one can guarantee you will find a job easily in this day and age. I believe that social sciences are much more important than our technocratic society makes them to be. They are the backbone of our civilization. I could never become a doctor even though I respect and appreciate them for their service. Same goes for police officers. I have friends who are in the force and they are amazing, sweet and true heroes but I could not be like them and they could not do what I do.

Forgive your parents. Most of them are trying to protect us from a crazy world but sometimes they harm us more in the process. Listen to the elders when they speak but learn to logically reason within.

Being an astrologer and helping people uncover their purpose is very liberating. It makes you realize how our world was shaped so the best would come on top. You have all the tools, make the best out of them and go after your goals.

Because in the end, you'll be proud of yourself.

[thevulturesquadron]

Ok so this is me sorta headcanoning, so take this with a grain of salt, but one of the reasons why the infantilization of Rogue always bothers me is because I always felt like her powers were a metaphor for disability/chronic illness and fandom police act already like disabled women aren't capable of being in their own villain romances, example being Entrapdak antis denying Entrapta her own agency in her romance with Hordak in the She-Ra reboot.

Oh! But you make a really good point! It’s one of those subtle perspectives that can be dangerous just because of how easy they are to integrate into someone's view of the world. I'm not as vocal online as I used to be. I feel like there are people out there far better equipped to talk about it than I, while I grow old and cranky. But, you brought up a really important aspect that kinda sent me into a 'hold my beer' moment so apologies for the long answer! To start with, I wouldn’t call this a headcanon, not at all, clearly not in the context of X-men, and Rogue in particular. It’s a very apt analogy. The reason why these characters become relevant to us is because we recognize something from our personal journey in them, and the comparison you made for Rogue is a very strong one. Her inability to touch can absolutely be read as a disability! In so many of her stories/arcs it is often portrayed as a struggle, as an obstacle to a ‘normal life’. Her difficulties with gaining control over her powers and dealing with other personalities that are trying to take over her mind can also be a strong metaphor for mental health struggles/disorders. Rogue is a fantastic hero in that regard and seeing her be her own person, learning how to work and be proud of what she can do, can feel like a personal victory for so many people. It’s why it’s important to see her happy, to see her winning her battles and use who she is and what she can do in a positive and impactful way. There are many reasons why fans end up taking away her agency or attributing her choices to a different (often male) character. And, to be fair, a couple of comic-book writers have done this exact thing to her, so I can see where this skewed perspective might be coming from. Within fandom this happens mostly because it serves to support their arguments for whatever thing they prefer or project onto the character. If they don’t like a certain narrative or can’t accept that it might’ve be written for someone else, they have this to fall back on and point to. Or, sadly, one of the simplest reasons for doing this is the age-old turning their ship preferences into ‘I’m right, you are wrong’ arguments. But these things can hide some internalized misconceptions. Unfortunately I haven’t seen the reboot of She-Ra (shame on me) so I don’t have the full picture for the take on Entrapta, but now I have one more reason to invest some time in it. In this situation with Rogue, I believe that what you mentioned applies very well. The argument that I’ve seen going around a lot is that Rogue was manipulated/swayed by being presented with the opportunity to ‘be normal’. Because she wanted to be able to touch and as a result she was taken advantage of because of her ‘disability’. Which is entirely false. In no version of the relationship between Rogue and Magneto in the comics, and not even in the reinvented take in the animation, has he ever abused that. Her attraction to him has always, always, come first, and the ability to touch, second. He was never the first one to act upon it. Even in the animation, every shot in the flashback was carefully considered to portray that - she is shown as the initiator every time (my favourite scene is when she’s trying her very best to pose in a suggestive way and he just paints her as he sees her, lively and sincere). But some fans don’t want to see that. They don’t want to acknowledge the authenticity of her decisions because it doesn’t serve the narrative they want of her/for her.

I read your message and it hit like a hammer how much deeper this problem can actually go, because it’s masked by those surface-level justifications. Removing agency and responsibility from someone just because they operate differently than one’s expectations is damaging in and of itself, and within a fandom it perpetuates an idea that can stifle people’s perspective and critical thinking. (This whole topic actually reminded me of Madison Tevlin's “Assume that I can” commercial. I think it's relevant to the conversation) Thanks a lot for sharing this!!! We need to talk more about these things and if I misspoke on something or missed something important would love to hear it. 💜

[herlockslimbo]

has anyone talked about meiko’s happy end side story. it has been making me insane for weeks on end.

to. lengthily. sum it up, wxs come running back to sekai after making the decision to stay together. everyone’s still crying a lot (so much they’re struggling to speak 😭) so the vs are like “!?? what happened??”. to which rui responds super choked up that they did it. wonderlands x showtime are going to move forward together. all the vs are so happy they start crying too. while everyone’s having their moment,

meiko turns to rui and tells him she’s so proud of him for not giving up, and following through with his feelings, getting the ending he wanted. rui immediately tells her he can’t take the credit, because in the end it was emu’s brothers who really pushed emu to change her mind, but meiko tells rui that while that may have been the deciding factor, what he did was nothing small. meiko notes that rui has seen something like this before, that true, direct, sincere feelings can move someone’s heart. rui speaking up and telling wxs how he felt played a major part in this and he can’t diminish that to nothing. rui retorts that his “feelings” were nothing more than his own egoism, but, if what meiko said is true, he’s going to try and be “selfish” and speak his mind more :,)

there’s a final little part where meiko goes “rui-kun, i’ve watched you worry about so many things…..” flashes a smile, then she goes “now this is what a happy ending should look like!” end.

AND IT JUST MAKES ME SO AUAGHHAHAHH

like meiko has been there a lot for rui since likee cheer squad, when she called out to his classmates so rui wouldn’t run away, then she was aware of him visiting during curtain call iirc, and then of course she helped him (with luka) during that one night in amidst a dream when he was real bad talking about how he didn’t want to feel anymore or whatever, not to mention all of their antics….so it makes me so happy for her to get to see rui push through 🥹🥹🥹

and rui himself ouuughhh…rui’s “selfish feelings” have always been a thing surrounding his character, but they especially rose with that wording during curtain call, and his desires to keep everyone together. so it makes me feel insane that he’s finally decided to embrace his feelings because he realized the impact they made…he’s not gonna let himself drown in his feelings anymore (I HOPE.) gahhh i love my stupid son

[milfthrawnuorodo]

Safe in my Arms (Ascendancy!Thrawn x Reader)

Pairing: Ascendancy!Thrawn x Female Chiss Reader 

Summary: Csaplar, the capital city of Csilla, has been attacked by alien warships. You are a Syndic of the Mith family, forced to seek shelter from the attack along with the rest of the Syndicure. Thrawn, senior captain of the Chiss Expansionary Defence Fleet, is able to easily defeat the enemy targets, but finds himself struggling with something new: the sudden feelings of concern and panic at the thought of you in danger. These feelings are a first for Thrawn, always so confident in battle, seldom so confident when it comes to his feelings for his lover. When you two are reunited, Thrawn is forced to confront his feelings head on. His relief at seeing you alive and well quickly turns into something almost animalistic, and passion ensues, followed by the dawn of a crucial revelation. 

Warnings: Sliiiight angst, but I promise it all works out. SMUT!!! Oral (female receiving), P in V, feral Thrawn is it’s own warning, fucking on a countertop (will I ever let him fuck in the comfort of a bed??? Only time will tell). And watch out because this ending is FLUFF CITY. Like Goddamn call this bitch cotton candy the way it makes me so wet and then absolutely MELTS me. (too much?? Yeah, probably). 

A/N: So the original idea for this came from my head canon’s with my Chiss Syndic OC, Theta, which can be found here. I did originally post this as a Thrawn x Theta, but I know how beloved a solid Thrawn x Reader fic is, so here’s the compromise. Sigh,this fic is so self indulgent it should be a crime. But I hope you enjoy it!

This fic is spicyyyyy so 18+ only, minors do not interact. 

_______________________

The aroma of fresh caccoleaf was the only thing getting you through this never ending meeting. You gingerly took a sip, cherishing the slightly sweet flavor as you forced yourself to focus on the argument at hand. The Syndicure was in full session, meaning your days had been consumed by meetings just like this, speakers for various families vying for exchanges and favors to bolster their own needs above others. 

“What we are proposing would completely revitalize this meager farm area and turn it into a beacon of prosperity, attracting people from all around the Ascendancy, which could boost the local economy and present other long-lasting positive impacts. If you’ll look at the document that has been shared with each of your questises–”

The Ufsa speaker hadn’t even finished his obviously well-rehearsed speech before a representative from the Chaf family made her own grievances known. “That land rightfully belongs to the Chaf family,” she butted in emphatically. “You’ll have to pry that land straight from our hands.”

It took all your years of experience to contain your eye roll. You were proud of your position, honored by your duty to both your family and the Ascendancy, and, yes, you lived to serve your people in any way possible. But you also had a tendency to get frustrated at how selfish and self-serving members of the Aristocra could be. Your whole mission as one of the few female members of the Syndicure was to inspire unity amongst the families and encourage compromise and support over supporting self-serving needs. Though, with so many of the Aristocra being dead set in their old-fashioned ways, you more often than not felt like you were fighting an uphill battle. 

You took a deep breath to steady yourself, preparing to interrupt the argument which was clearly not making any headway, when a resounding alarm began to blare throughout the meeting room. The room was silent for a single heartbeat, before the Syndicure erupted into noise and chaos, each person trying to speak over the other to figure out what was going on. A voice projected over the loudspeaker.

“This is an emergency. Please remain calm and make your way to the shelters beneath the Cupola. I repeat, this is an emergency. Please remain calm and make your way to the shelters beneath the Cupola ”

The announcement hadn’t even finished before people were scrambling towards the doors and filing down the hallway towards the emergency exits that would take them to the shelters. You stood from your seat, making sure to grab the questis from the table before turning to navigate the throngs of people. A quick scan of the room told you that a majority of the Aristocra were well and able to take care of themselves. However, your eyes landed on a lone straggler, an elder from the Irizi family, struggling to make haste towards the exit, having long been forgotten by members of his own family in their own rush towards safety. Without hesitation, you crossed the short distance between you and loop your arm in his, wordlessly offering him your support. A look of surprise flitted across the man’s face, but was quickly replaced by a nod of respect and gratitude before leaning on your for support as you both made your way to the exit. This image, two rival families coming together to support each other in a time of crisis, this was what being a member of the Chiss Ascendancy was about: above family ranks, above political rivalries, above all else, you were all Chiss.

Joining the rest of the speakers, syndics, and various members of the aristocra in the shelters, you found an empty seat, getting a moment to collect your bearings for the first time. You spare a look down at your questis as a barrage of notifications lit up the screen. You could hardly process the words, having to reread the same sentence multiple times. 

Csaplar, capital of Csilla, is under attack by alien ships. Seek shelter immediately. 

You couldn’t remember the last time someone had dared attack the Ascendancy. It certainly hadn’t been in your lifetime, and from the looks of the faces around the shelter, you decided it most certainly hadn’t taken place in the lifetimes of even the eldest members of the Syndicure. You furiously refreshed your notifications, hoping for another update, but there was none to be found. With a worried sigh, you crossed one leg over the other in an attempt to get comfortable. “Stars only know how long we’ll be stuck down here,” you thought to yourself.

“Alien warships,” a nearby Syndic scoffed. “And they have the audacity to attack us?” His voice increased in pitch to emphasize his incredulity. 

“I’m sure the expansionary defense fleet has already lasered them to stardust by now,” another Syndic reassured. 

The words settled like a lead weight in your stomach. Thrawn. The adrenaline, which had just begun to wear off, peaked again and you worked to control your breathing. He was supposed to be coming back from his mission today. You had just spoken over holovid the night before once Thrawn had retired to his quarters, and you had been looking forward to having him planetside with you. Now, with this latest attack, if he was in the middle of it…your thoughts trailed off into the unknown. You knew it wouldn’t do any good to panic now, but the thought of Thrawn being up there, facing off against three enemy warships was enough to get your heart racing all the same. 

_______________________

Thrawn stood on the bridge, staring out the viewport at the sight before him. The alien warships were gone, blasted into rubble too small to even make a dent through the atmosphere. Always the calculated and stoic Senior Captain, Thrawn had kept a level head throughout the unexpected ordeal. The Springhawk was returning home from its mission, coming out of hyperspace just outside Csilla’s gravity well, when the foreign ships began firing on the planet’s capital city. It took less than a minute for the Chiss ships to return fire, and within fifteen minutes the battle was over. Thrawn stood motionless, staring into the empty space where the ships once stood, a sudden anxiety settling into his bones. His chest felt tight and your name fell off his lips in a silent plea. He knew you were there, in the capital. He knew the aliens had to be targeting the capital city–it was the most logical conclusion. Unfortunately, it was also the conclusion that sent an unfamiliar wave of panic through Thrawn. He forced himself to take exactly one deep breath, steeling himself, and forcing his feet to take him back to the Captain’s chair. “Continue course to Csaplar,” Thrawn announced, thankful to hear that his voice didn’t betray an ounce of the worry that plagued him. “The likeliest conclusion is that you are fine,” he thought to himself in an attempt to regain his internal control. You have to be fine. 

_______________________

The defense force had you waiting two hours in the shelters, to be sure that no further threats arose. Two hours you spent sick with worry about what was going on in the skies above. You fully believed that Thrawn was the most intelligent man you’d ever met, and the Ascendancy as a whole was far safer for his role in the expansionary defense fleet. But that didn’t mean you never worried about him every time you knew he was going into a dangerous situation. More than anything, it was the not knowing that was tearing you up the most. You tried to distract yourself with your colleagues, who, in typical syndicure fashion, all seemed to be trying to one-up each other in outrage, as if they were personally defending the ascendancy’s honor. If there was one thing that could bring together the Aristocra, it was a common enemy. 

Shortly past the second hour mark, you got the all-clear to evacuate the shelter. There would be a briefing with General Ba’kif in one of the meeting halls, and it was clear the Syndicure would be out for blood, demanding answers that may not even be available yet. As the sea of individuals rushed to assault the general with their questions, you strode right past the door of the meeting room, instead heading straight for your office. You had just shut the door behind you when you realized you weren't alone.

Thrawn stood in the middle of your office, and the familiar sight of him in the black uniform was nearly enough to bring tears of relief to your eyes. 

At the first sight of you, relief flooded Thrawn’s body and for the first time in over two hours, he felt as though he could breathe again. It took all of two strides for Thrawn to close the distance between you, his strong arms taking you into his grip, pulling you to his chest. You gripped him just as hard, breathing in the familiar scent.

You stood like that, embracing each other for several heartbeats. “I’m relieved to see you unharmed,” Thrawn’s soft voice broke the silence. You tilted your head back, looking into the eyes of your beloved. “Thrawn,” you started, but your voice broke, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. You forced a deep breath before continuing. “What happened?” With a final press of his lips against the top of your head, Thrawn stepped back and motioned for you to take a seat as he began to recount everything they had found out over the last few hours. 

_______________________

That night, You rinsed off the last of the dinnerware, passing the dripping plate to Thrawn, who methodically dried it off and set it amongst its freshly clean counterparts. The dinner had been a simple affair, but you cherished these nights the most. They were too few and far between. Though, you supposed you were somewhat in luck–the estimated repairs for the Springhawk were to take between four and six weeks, and you’d soak up every ounce of time together you could get. 

Thrawn had been unusually quiet tonight though, and you watched as he gripped the edge of the countertop, clearly lost in thought. Thrawn’s focus shifted as a pair of soft arms wound their way around his midsection. “Tell me what’s bothering you, love,” your voice was barely above a whisper. Up on your toes, you pressed a kiss to Thrawn’s neck, “And don’t bother denying it. You know I can read you as easily as a data cylinder,” you quipped, trying to ease the tension. 

With a small sigh, Thrawn turned to face you. His lean body propped up against the countertop, arms crossed at his chest, and though he was looking at you, you could feel that his gaze was far away. 

“There was a moment today, after the attack,” Thrawn started, then paused, thinking over his words. “I had a feeling I don’t think I’ve ever experienced before.” You waited patiently through another extended pause, giving Thrawn what you hoped was an encouraging nod.

“As soon as the battle was over, I was hit by this strange sense of terror. There was this sudden, overwhelming dread, and I was convinced something had happened to you.” Thrawn paused, his throat working. “I don’t know what I would have done. What I’d do if–” Your features instantly softened, and you interrupted the thought, stepping up on your tiptoes to press a gentle kiss to Thrawn’s lips. 

“It’s okay,” you whispered, pulling away momentarily. “I’m fine.” You pressed another kiss to his lips. “I’m okay,” you reassured, murmuring against his lips, and it was as if upon hearing those words, feeling your soft lips against his, something within Thrawn broke. His hands were off the counter, gripping your waist, pulling you closer to him as his lips crashed against yours, gripping you in a fierce kiss. You hardly had a second to react before Thrawn picked you up, twisting your positions so he could place you on the countertop, not even breaking the kiss. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, though you certainly weren’t about to stop him. Thrawn’s grip on your hips tightened as he deepened the kiss, pulling you to the edge of the counter. Suddenly, you understood where Thrawn was coming from. The relief at having him here, the knowledge that you were both safe, both together, it was enough to have you mirroring his intensity.

Your hands were desperate, clumsily trying to undo Thrawn’s uniform. Stars damn all the regulation zips that made these things so damn hard to remove. Eventually, Thrawn took pity on you, stepping back to remove the rest of the jacket, discarding his undershirt as well, letting both fall to the floor. You had only a moment to appreciate the toned, muscular skin, biting your bottom lip as you took in the view, and then Thrawn’s lips were back on yours and your fingers went straight to tangle themselves in his hair. 

“I need to—“ Thrawn gasps out between kisses. “I need to taste you.” 

You nodded your head fervently and spread your legs, leaning back on your hands as Thrawn pressed sweet kisses along your neck and down your still-clothed chest. Pushing up your skirt, you lifted yourself just enough for him to slide your damp panties down your leg. Thrawn let out an audible groan. “I do believe you’ll be the end of me,” he growled in a low voice, before falling to his knees. 

The sight of Thrawn on his knees before you was almost enough to push you over the edge. Thrawn slid your legs open, resting them on his shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your core. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, but before you could even beg for more, he dove right in. 

He ate like a man who had been starved for days, unable to get enough. A single finger joined his tongue, and left you squirming on his counter. Your hips thrust up into his face, a second digit joining in, stretching you. He curled his fingers, hitting that spongy spot deep inside you, and stars danced behind your eyelids. “Thrawn!” you exclaimed, panting. His fingers moved faster, harder, expertly dragging your orgasm from you. “Thrawn, I’m going to—“ before you could even finish that sentence, your orgasm ripped through your body. Your back arched, cunt tightening around his fingers. His tongue lapped up your juices, which only prolonged the orgasm. Gasping for air, you slowly came down from her high, coming to just in time to spot Thrawn trailing soft kisses along the inside of your thighs, working his way back up to kiss your face. Thrawn pressed himself up against your soaking core, and you could feel how much he enjoyed that experience as his rock-hard member pressed against your sensitive mound, eliciting another moan from you, his name dancing on your lips. “Thrawn.”

“I need to feel you,” he moaned against his kiss. “I need to be inside you.” His kiss was frenzied, his need was unmistakable. You had never seen the man so undone, and you could hardly believe it was on your behalf. It felt like a dream. All you could manage was a breathy “yes,” in response, but it was all the approval Thrawn needed. 

Without missing a beat, Thrawn’s hands were on his belt, quickly undoing it, his pants falling to the floor soon after. You let out a sigh as he freed his cock and gave his member a rough couple pumps. Your mouth watered at the sight of it–thick and long, and deliciously veined, as if it was designed purely for your pleasure. You couldn’t help but rub your thighs together, desperate for some kind of friction as you took in the sight before you: 

Thrawn, his typically meticulous hair now a disheveled mess, his impressive member in hand, and a look of absolute feral need in his eyes. 

Thrawn held the tip of his cock, teasing your opening. Even when he was overcome with need, he still took the time to savor this moment. In a moment of impatient desperation, you thrust your hips up off the counter, which Thrawn rewarded with a swift thrust of his hips, his cock finally filling you to the brim. He paused for a moment, letting you adjust. A breathless moan of approval from you is all it took for him to lose himself. 

His thrusts were hard and his pace was quick. He needed this. He needed to feel you beneath his fingers, to know that you were safe in his arms. You threw your head back, the pleasure radiating through your body. In and out, in and out. Thrawn’s breathing was labored, letting out breathy moans. His pace quickened, and he could tell you were nearing another orgasm. Your cunt tightened around his cock as you neared her edge, and Thrawn let out a gasp and another moan, your name on his lips. It was enough to send you over the edge once again, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer into you. Feeling your pussy pulse around his cock was just enough to cause Thrawn to lose any remaining composure. “Fuck,” Thrawn grunted, grabbing your hips tight enough to bruise, thrusting his hips even harder. With a final groan, Thrawn’s hips faltered and his cock twitched as he emptied himself inside you.

Thrawn pressed his forehead to yours as you both struggled to catch your breath. He loosened his fingers from their iron grip on your hips, and he was surprised at the slight shake that unsteadied his hand. “That’s new,” Thrawn remarked to himself, still perplexed at how thoroughly you had undone him. He was enamored with you. His hands absentmindedly trailed along your side as he pressed tender kisses along your neck and jaw, still soaking in your scent. He paused when he reached the apex of your neck and he relished the feel of your pulse beneath his lips, further proof that you were alive and well. 

“I love you.” The words tumbled from Thrawn’s mouth, his deep voice barely above a whisper. You froze beneath his touch. Even Thrawn seemed momentarily taken aback by the words which he hadn’t even meant to say out loud. But with every moment that passed, Thrawn realized how true they were. He was in love with you. And, if he was being honest with himself, he had been for quite some time. “I love you,” you whispered back, the softest smile on your face. Thrawn couldn’t help his smile as your lips met again, but this kiss was different: full of passion, yes, but something softer. Love. 

“Damn,” you breathed out, breaking the kiss after several moments. “Maybe warships should attack the ascendancy more often,” you said with a playful smile on your lips. 

Thrawn bit back a growl and, with a scowl, took you into his arms, lifting you off the countertop. “Don’t even joke about that,” he said in a low voice, immediately followed by a soft press of his lips to your temple. Thrawn started towards your bedroom, wondering what exactly he was getting himself into, but knowing that he was in too deep to turn back now. 

[mochiwrites]

I don't think I quite have all the words I want to say- But my goodness if this is gonna be long.

Your writing is gorgeous. And you can take all the time you need on it if it means you can be proud of it and enjoy it as much as I do. When I read Songbird, the characterization was genuinely on point and made complete sense for all of them. I love their unique ways of going about things and how anything they do can be led back to the concept of cause and effect. Idk, I like how despite all the traumas they experience, all the fear, all the blackmail, and wondering if tomorrow will even exist, the one constant they can look forward to is each other. They're hurt, lonely, confused. But they can hold each other's hands and tell the other it'll be okay. (ALBEIT THE RECENT CHAPTER HAS GOT ME IN SHAMBLES THANKS A LOT???) I genuinely love the way you write them all. Grian has got his iconic sass and is always on the go, moving around. He's curious. So curious that it leads him to find people he wants to protect. He wants to do something. He wants validation and to know he's doing things right. He's only human, but since when did that stop him from playing a game way beyond his understanding? Mumbo is lonely and filled with his past mistakes. He pushes away until he realizes he can't anymore. And he lets the light in. The only light he can look at. He grows attached. He's easily flustered, gets snarky, and gets surprised, he's painfully human despite how much he says he's a monster. And I think that's what has gotta hurt about the most recent update. The only humanity he could look forward to, not his own, but another- Possibly gone.

Scar's development is so interesting. He's perfect in every way. He knows what he's doing and doesn't hesitate to do it. Until he does. And just like Mumbo he's grasping for that light to hold onto, but in turn, he crushes it in his palm, only feeling the warm memory of what it was like to be looked at as himself and not a monster. I find your play on words so incredibly fascinating. Fae have such a connection to identity. Scar identifies with a word Grian refuses to call him. Something he was consistently called by so many people until he got a gentle look of determination and care that shattered down his walls. That made him feel with his non-existent "soft human heart". Being taught that identity is what you make of it, and it's up to you and nobody else to decide what you are. But he can't go through with it. Because it's not his choice.

RAAA!!!! I'm so sorry for the long message but I'm such a sucker for your writing and I will probably write more in your dms soon if you're okay with it. But seriously, your writing has got my brain ticking around the clock. Every second of waiting is worth it if you can hold your story in your hands and tell yourself, "I'm proud of this." Because you should be. (Plus, it gives me more time to plan art pieces BNFJBN)

WAILS AND SOBS AT YOU???? REALLY LOUD????

uwahhhhh thank you sm 🥺💕💕 everyone's characterization is something I keep in mind all the time, with every action or thought they may have and ueueueue I'm glad they feel true to their characters. there's just something about like... experiencing so much bad and evil together, but knowing with certainty that the people around you will be there at the end of the day.

AND ALL THREE OF THEM,,, WAILS. grian and his stubborn curiosity but determination to protect and help. yet he's still so pesky and sassy and the impact he has on mumbo and scar is so important. so so so incredibly important. I genuinely don't think the songbird story would hit the same way if he wasn't human.

and mumbo ;-; he has such a kind heart but he's filled with guilt and regret that he pushes people away. and the thing that gets me with him is like,,, he tries so hard to squash that innate kindness, yet he can't help but give that kindness out anyways. and that's so painfully human??? I love sb!mumbo a lot, sad little vampire man.

theN THERE'S SCAR. SCAR WHO I WANT TO SHAKE AROUND SOOOOO AFFECTIONATELY I PROMMY. he's a character that is SO incredibly interesting to me both to study and write and I love how he's developing in the story. we're finally approaching the point in the story where we really see the goodtimeswithscar that we all know and love, and I'm so jittery about revealing his backstory. scar's connection to his identity is so... AUGH. AUGH. I love him ( even while he's making terrible mistakes rn <3 )

but,,, sobbing so incredibly loud at you 🥹💕💕 songbird is very precious to me and I am so proud of it. so incredibly proud of it. long message is 100% welcome, and please!!! feel free to wiggle on into dms :D (and sobs??? plan art??? soBS????)

[sunfyresrider]

Aegon's Kinks

summary: Based on a request I received ages ago. warnings: 18 ++ minors pls pls do not interact. note: this is the Aegon in my brain, not really canon.

Short Description: Aegon is insecure so he tends to show it during sex. He is possessive over you and wants you to need him completely. He spends a lot of time being dominant but he loves when you take control. It proves to him that you yearn for him as badly as he does you. If it comes to a woman he is only using for sex he cares less and is okay with a quick fuck with little play. But when it comes to you he’s an entirely different animal. 

Degradation 

Aegon prefers to degrade those he is only using for his own satisfaction. It makes him feel better to be able to undermine someone else. He is constantly hearing insults thrown at him so he throws it back. If his true lover enjoys it though he has no problem with calling her a whore and reminding her how pathetic she is for his cock. 

Praise

He lovessss being praised. He’s been raised being beaten down and insulted by those close to him so having someone sing praises gets him excited. Aegon is insecure and possessive at heart so he needs constant reassurance. He accepts all forms of it but his favorites are “You’re doing so good, I’m proud of you.” “Your cock is perfect for me.” “I love everything about you.” “You were made for me.” “You’re so handsome, my love.” “I am completely yours and you are mine.” Things like this make him feel better about himself. 

Exhibitionism

People watching him please you excites him more. He’s spent many hours at brothels and is used to there being prying eyes. Someone watching him use you and claim you is exhilarating in his mind. The way you come undone simply by his touch should be watched by everyone. It’s a mixture of a need to show he possesses you and his own insecure need to prove that he is good enough. Aegon will fuck you anywhere and everywhere and he doesn’t care who watches and neither should you. 

Dirty talk

Aegon dirty talks throughout random points of the day. He likes to tease you with what he’ll do to you whilst you’re at dinner or in an important meeting. He goes into extreme descriptions only to act like he said nothing when you react. It’s a game to him which he enjoys fiercely. 

Nipple play

Some may say it’s mommy issues but Aegon just thinks it’s because your tits are so perfect. He likes to play with them before he touches you and leaves you dripping wet. He likes the way he can squish them in his fingers and rest his head on them. Aegon will suck, bite, kiss, lick, and grope them any chance he gets.

Humiliation

He doesn’t mind being humiliated or humiliating you. He likes when people see you as a wet and worn out mess. He likes when you grovel at his feet and beg and he laughs at you. It’s all a part of his need for validation from you. If he truly loves you then he’ll beg as well and let you use him like a toy but only if you give him limitless amounts of love afterwards. 

Marking 

He likes to leave bruises, scratches, red marks and hickeys across your body. It’s a way of him marking his territory and his claim on you. He’ll do it in an obvious area too so he can be sure everyone knows who you belong to. Once again, if he really loves you, he’ll let you mark him too. He enjoys the pain that comes along with the marks you leave across his body. 

Choking

This is another fun way to add more sensations to sex. Being in control of your breathing makes him feel powerful. Since he lacks control in most aspects this is one way, he gets over it. He’ll never harm you too much though just enough so that you are breathless underneath him. 

Impact play

Pulling hair, spanking, and slapping is all okay with him. Though he prefers not to be spanked he loves doing it to you. The way you squeal on top of him sends him into a frenzy. The aggressiveness of these acts helps him, and you release pent up anger. It gives him a rush he can’t feel normally. 

Orgasm control

If he really loves you he’ll put in extra time. This means he’ll have the patience to play with you until your body is throbbing for release. Aegon will take time building up your orgasm until you are being him to make you cum. Once again it is him proving his dominance over you. Which he will sometimes let you do as well depending on how badly you want to. As long as you’re both enjoying yourselves, he doesn’t care. 

Consensual nonconsent

This is probably his most problematic one. He enjoys acting as if you are taking advantage of him and the other way around. It both gives you the sensation of feeling powerful. For you it’s a way to heal from being taken advantage of in the past and for him it’s a way to feel like he is in control of things. Of course it is pre-agreed on and you can always use the safe word. (He would probably choose something like Sunfyre or Wine because he finds it humorous.) 

Bondage 

Aegon likes to possess you completely. While you're in ropes it makes it even easier for him. Occasionally he will let you tie him up and use him for your own pleasure as long as he is having fun too. He will tie you up in various positions but he likes it when you tie his hands up to the bed. Aegon doesn’t like being bent in too many different ways. 

Sadism and masochism

Aegon is a switch at heart. I think for someone he loves he would gladly be a masochist and let them hurt them in whatever way they can. If it happens to be someone he is simply using for pleasure he can be a complete sadist because he only cares about himself. He likes to feel pain and give out pain. 

Alcohol 

This isn’t necessarily a kink but something he likes to incorporate. His love for wine is almost as vast as his love for you. He likes to take shots of your body and drown each other in it. Aegon enjoys the sticky feeling of it across both of your bodies. It adds extra flavor to you both. He also enjoys being intoxicated during sex because of the heightened sensations.

This isn’t necessarily a kink but something he likes to incorporate. His love for wine is almost as vast as his love for you. He likes to take shots of your body and drown each other in it. Aegon enjoys the sticky feeling of it across both of your bodies. It adds extra flavor to you both. He also enjoys being intoxicated during sex because of the heightened sensations.

[nikki-is-a-nerd]

Since The Percy Jackson s1 is done, i can now write my overall experience with it. Mind you i only read the first book of PJO because I couldn’t afford the books and because goddamn borrowing it from the university library was like a pack of coyotes seeing a slab of meat after 15 years of starvation.

(Side note: i once got scratched in the face by a girl who wanted to read Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief, when i was gonna borrow the book for a second time. I learned it was better to just buy the books one by one per year.)

So i fully enjoyed the series. Regardless of how a lot of people have been calling it shit or a disgrace to the books. Like I appreciate how Uncle Rick managed to retell his own story, see it come to life, in a way that he wants. I appreciate Sally Jackson having a bigger impact to how Percy is as a person and as a character.

Yes, i too was shocked with the grover snitch scene in ep 1, then I thought about it, it made sense. Grover is my favorite character and i would like to say that the movie version of Grover made me feel uneasy but this version of grover, he made me long for that kind of friendship. I also love how Grover unlike in the movies, isn’t comic relief. You see his emotional struggles. You see him grow from “we have to keep the peace, let’s all be kind” to then showing us that he’s more than that. He is smart, cunning, manipulative if need be. He is also brave and he carries so much emotional baggage. The fact that he expresses rage about certain things, makes him feel more human to me. By giving him so much depth, by casting Aryan Simhadri, his depiction of grover would make book grover very proud.

Annabeth is also really really amazing in my eyes. Seeing a child give off an air of “i know things that you don’t” like an adult is so cool. Seeing her grow from “the gods are just and they have their reasons” to “The gods have flaws and they make mistakes, but i will be better than that” is very tear jerking. It helped me see Annabeth in those moments as a child who didn’t get to experience a proper childhood finally see what its like to be loved without having to give anything in return. Leah Sava Jeffries, shows emotions so well. Her posture changes depending on how she feels. She slouches a bit when she’s dejected or upset and is more poised when she’s feeling the most confident. Her eyes carry so much emotion in scenes where she doesn’t speak. She’s a lovely actress.

Percy, gods where do i even begin. Walker first off, played this character so well! You see how he’s feeling through his eyes, his face is so expressive and i love it. Percy also gets my mom approval card (which means my mom also loves his character). The way they show him to be loyal, caring, empathetic but also he’s just a child so you understand why he acts the way he acts. People complained about how percy wasn’t fighting like a pro, but i think that’s what makes it great. Percy is new, he’s learning as he goes, when we finally see Walker Portray the Percy that we all know, we can look back at s1 and we’ll see that truly, Percy has grown in skill. Also im always gonna sob over the fact that his scenes where he chooses to sacrifice himself for his friends, he always implies how he isn’t enough, we see how he sees himself and that hurts. Percy’s sass and humor though are also such highlights. I would love to see more of walker’s percy too.

Now honorable mention to my favorite backstabbing, pretty boy, luke. I love how he is such a good actor. Watching him play luke kinda immersed me in the moment, i forgot that this kind ,young man is the antagonist. Because when he played luke when we first saw him, i too wouldn’t be able to think that this guy, he can be cruel. But he delivers so much rage, so much resentment in his scene with percy in the finale. The way charlie acted in that scene, gods, i was shocked. I truly believe watching him and his character’s descent to something more is gonna be a rollercoaster ride of emotions.

The show in itself is really really good. Yes there are odd sudden black screens, but I don’t mind them. I don’t mind the changes, i just think that the episodes could be a bit longer. The story is captivating even with those changes, i love how Uncle Rick got the chance to give us an adaptation that isn’t an exact copy of the book, because i believe that a good adaptation doesn’t need to be a scene per scene copy, because if that’s what y’all wanted, listen to an audio book where people act out the scenes. Think of it this way, the book and the show are just two separate universes. Like how we have the MCU and the Marvel Comics. Same characters but different continuums.

People tend to find the negatives before they see the positives, its how we’re mostly wired. If we look past them, you’ll see that there are things that are better.

I would definitely be excited for a s2

[tired-reader-writer]

Finally, finally I am back on my ArSen bullshit. So starting from where I last left off (chapter 94):

Fr tho, Hilmes, where was this when I needed you to have the attitude? This just reads as copium ffs.

I normally don't give that much thought to Team Zahhak's philosophy, but this time I decided to sit down and mull on it a bit. Evil is the way of the world, the root and origin of all things, and humans have established “justice” to oppose it. The problem? Justice isn't One True Thing as many like to think— to borrow Narsus' metaphor it's actually like a thousand stars fighting to dominate the sky. And what this causes is conflict, everybody thinks they're right, and therefore the others must be wrong, and to prop up their own justice blood is shed.

One would normally associate bloodshed with, y'know, evil. Which makes me wonder if Team Zahhak thinks of justice as a hypocrisy— in fighting for their justice the pain and loss the fight inevitably causes is no different from that which evil would cause. In seeking to banish evil they just kept inventing evil itself over and over, with a prettier facade on top.

Maybe Team Zahhak sees it as a pointless, fruitless endeavor, and thus chases evil in its own right instead of dressing it up in pretty ideals that ultimately mean nothing.

That's my interpretation of these panels, I buy that line of philosophy obviously, but I think I can see where they're coming from, especially considering the origins of Zahhak himself (which, to make it as vague as possible, he was born from evil, so surely that must've shaped his worldview?).

I want to say, “what did you think was gonna happen when y'all went crazy like rabid dogs on the capital and let Bodin run free to do whatever he wanted???” because I am right— but my anger is tinged with dread/grief because the consequences. They're going to bite Hilmes in the ass.

Interesting. VERY INTERESTING. I'm spinning this in my head. What can I do with this, hmmmm~

They were conscripted, ey?

There's something about their faith taking the shape of brutality. That their “love” for their God wasn't characterized by, like, I dunno how to put it, a genuine connection with Yaldaboath nor spirituality nor anything like that if that makes sense, but rather in the form of... Gah, my brain isn't cooperating.

The way they were so proud of killing the defenseless and vulnerable (women and children) leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

“I think we've done our duty to God well enough to call it a day.” my god my fucking god, like, killing enough people means you did your job means you don't have to do anything more no meaningful deeds or introspection you don't need to do more you've murdered and that's apparently fucking enough shut uuuup.

I know they were manipulated by those above them, the clergy and the higher-ups who wanted this campaign but ugh. Ugh.

If one were to only look at the deeds of followers of Yaldaboath, I don't think it would be inaccurate to say that Yaldaboath is an ever-hungering bloodthirsty god who demands bloodshed and human sacrifice as worship.

Of course, it's not the case, I'm sure the faith means something else, something far less murderous, but there's a point where the original intent and purpose is lost and the twisted version takes over. It is the real, tangible impact it has on the world and the people in it that ultimately matters.

Of course, this is not a problem unique to the faith of Yaldaboath, the Parsian priesthood is pretty corrupt (@innerchorus made a post about that, I'll link it if I can find it again), and y'know, all institutionalized, big religions seem to follow the rough chops. Hell, in my homeland's history one of our kings went to war to seize Buddhist texts from another king!! Like what!! That's so antithetical to what Buddhism is supposed to be about!

Where am I going with this? Honestly, I've got no fucking clue. I just needed to rant, I suppose.

Everybody's big sister comes into clutch and nudges Arslan to not lose focus.

Also, is it just me or does Arslan's hair seem kinda long in this scene? Like,

Am I imagining things???? Was his hair always this long?

After two whole rants in the same post I no longer have the brain juices to dedicate any meaningful thought about the Royal Academy thing but I will say that I definitely want to know more about it. Who attends it? Is it a boarding school? Do other regions of Pars have similar academies? How do children of nobility and the wealthy in more rural areas learn? At home, with private tutors? This was never elaborated on and I'm left with a bucketload of questions.

They!! Alfarīd looks so cute here, look at that smile! And Farangis is so fond. I really love their bond, though I wish it was featured a little more (I guess it kinda is, but it involves Farangis pushing Alfarīd onto Narsus and I'm not sure how I feel about that so yeah).

And between and behind the two there's one of the dresses Alfarīd showed Narsus later on! The one she didn't end up buying, though I have to admit it's a cute design.