#I know I have been very lax in reading/commenting
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plss im so in love w diors clarisse,,, maybe smth with her showing off during capture the flag for r,,,
clarisse showing off during capture the flag
clarisse la rue x reader
a/n: so this was kinda a drabble kinda a fic idk it's longer than i meant for it to be but i like it so i'm not mad. honestly this y/n is kinda hecate!child coded so you can read it like that but i didn't specify the godly parent so you can imagine her however you want (:
taglist: @asvterias @lvrue @thewritingbarbie @kroumi (let me know if you want to be on my taglist or if you want to be removed!)
y/n and clarisse had been dancing around each other romantically for months now.
y/n was a new camper, and had arrived during the winter months, when there were very few campers still there. her mortal parent had died at the same time the monsters started finding her. thankfully, her satyr protector managed to get her to camp in one piece. with a few scratches, yes, but ultimately safe.
during the winter, when there were only a limited amount of people to be around, y/n found herself gravitating towards clarisse la rue, an ares kid.
the other campers had warned y/n away from clarisse, claiming that she was mean and angry and was a hard person to be around. she was dependable in battle, according to them, but other than that, they all tended to steer clear of her.
y/n wasn't finding that that was her experience with clarisse, though.
whenever she was with clarisse, she was gentle and kind and funny, and y/n found herself wanting to be with her at any and all times of the day.
since camp didn't experience weather the same way the outside world did, there were a few times during the winter when the rules were more lax due to the smaller amount of campers, they snuck away from their respective cabins and camped in the woods. it became a thing that was special to the two of them, time for them to just be with each other.
it was those camping trips that y/n started thinking that maybe her relationship with clarisse was a bit more complicated than just a friendship.
unbeknownst to y/n, clarisse had practically fallen in love with y/n the second she laid eyes on her.
the two were inseparable, practically attached at the hip. it was pretty much common knowledge at this point within camp that if you could see one of them, the other was close by.
capture the flag.
one of the most fun days of camp half blood, and also the most serious at the same time.
a day where campers with beef could be on opposite teams and duke out their problems with each other without consequence, but mostly just a day for one team to capture the flag of the other's, and have bragging rights for the next twelve months until the next capture the flag day came around.
clarisse loved playing capture the flag at camp.
it was definitely mostly because she was a daughter of ares, the god of war, and she felt most confident in herself with her magic spear in hand, wearing armor, and stabbing at someone.
a strange way to feel the most confident, but it was.
y/n had never seen clarisse on a capture the flag day, and she was really on board with it.
clarisse looked really good wearing her battle armor, holding her magic spear so carefully, and yet throwing it around with so much confidence.
she could barely takes her eyes off her.
thankfully, y/n and clarisse's cabins had both been placed on the same team (which may or may not be because clarisse had begged chiron for this, but who's to say?), so clarisse was going to be able to work with y/n and not against her.
that would've been awkward....
when clarisse was coming up with the plan for capture the flag last week, mysteriously, the plan started revolving around her and y/n being together at all times.
strange... how things pan out....
when one of her siblings pointed this out, clarisse made sure to fix them with a glare so full of malice they turned away and didn't make any more comments.
as clarisse looked down at her battle plan, she started imagining herself taking down the blue team members with ease, and standing in the background was y/n, swooning over her.
"so, what's our game plan?"
her voice caught clarisse totally off guard, causing her to whip around quickly. clarisse had been shocked out of her mind so suddenly that it took her a few seconds to register what was in front of her.
it was y/n. in battle armor for capture the flag. and she was obsessed with it.
during the winter months, there aren't really any reason for campers to wear their armor, unless obviously there's an attack on the camp, but since there hadn't been any over the winter when she had come to camp, there had been no reason to.
clarisse was sure it had something to do with her father being the god of war, but seeing her wearing camo pants a breastplate, with a sword at her side made her look even more beautiful to clarisse.
"do you... like it?" she asked, a slight teasing lilt to your voice.
clarisse snapped herself out of it, realizing that she had taken a bit more time than she intended to examine y/n's outfit.
"y-yeah, you look... you look amazing, y/n," a small smile passed onto clarisse's face. she mentally cursed herself for stuttering. who even was she? not a person who stuttered, she had thought.
but there was just something about y/n that challenged everything clarisse had thought about herself.
y/n blushed slightly at the compliment, but managed to regain her composure quickly. "thanks," the two shared a small smile. "seriously though, what's our game plan? where am i gonna be?"
clarisse beamed at your interest in the battle plan, and quickly did a run down with her. she mentioned as casually as she could that the two of them would be together the whole time pretty much, with practically no time apart.
the conch sounded, and then everything went into action.
clarisse did her usual hunt of the red team part of the woods, and with y/n at her side, it made her all the more determined to find someone to fight with.
as the two were prowling the woods (or really, clarisse was prowling, and y/n was walking alongside her, admiring the beauty of the woods), y/n stopped suddenly, letting out a loud and dramatic gasp.
clarisse immediately activated her spear and started looking around frantically in search of the danger, and was confused when she found none.
she looked curiously over at where y/n was, and saw her kneeling on the ground in front of a patch of wildflowers, looking at it with childlike wonder in her eyes.
clarisse let out a relieved sigh that everything was okay, and no one from blue team was trying to take y/n as a hostage, but then she became confused.
"what are you doing?" clarisse asked, coming up behind her.
y/n reached forward silently, and quickly plucked one of the white wildflowers from the ground. she stood up facing clarisse, and then stepped towards her. the two were now incredibly close, their noses practically touching, their breaths mingling.
all the air left clarisse's lungs.
with a soft smile on her face, she gently tucked the wildflower behind clarisse's ear.
neither of them knew what to say next. this was such an intimate gesture, such a gentle act that clarisse had never experienced the likes of before. her life had been full of anger and violence, and this moment right here was something new. something... exciting.
this moment was so very y/n, and clarisse loved it.
unfortunately, the moment was broken by the sound of a twig snapping behind them. clarisse rolled her eyes at the blue team members that had undoubtedly thought they were being very sneaky.
clarisse couldn't control the slight smirk that was slowly forming at the thought of showing off her fighting skills in front of y/n, though, so she guessed it wasn't all too bad.
for the cherry on top, clarisse winked at y/n, before spinning around and stabbing the chestplate of one of the blue team members that had attempted to sneak up on the two of them.
the battle was loud and exciting and over quickly, since the two blue team kids were pretty good at sword fighting, but were no match for clarisse and her spear.
once clarisse had defeated them and the kids had surrendered, she turned back to y/n with a smirk on her face.
y/n approached clarisse slowly. she took in her face quietly for any injuries, and gently assessed a small cut she'd sustained from one of the other kids swords before she'd knocked it out of his hand.
y/n's eyes then went to the wildflower still somehow tucked into clarisse's ear. it was askew slightly, so her hand went up to adjust it, making sure it was secure, before her hand landed on clarisse's cheek.
"impressive," was all she said, a large smile on her face.
clarisse smiled widely as well, and couldn't help feeling triumphant.
#percy jackson#clarisse la rue#clarisse larue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse larue x reader#clarisse la rue imagine#clarisse larue imagine#x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue x yn#clarisse la rue x you#clarisse larue x you#ares god of war#ares child#drabble#request#❛ xanasaurusrex ༉‧₊˚#❛ xan's requests ༉‧₊˚#❛ xan's anons ༉‧₊˚
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This was a long time coming.
So, first of all I’m sorry that this took me so long to make, but there was a lot of information to sift through. I’m not planning on coming back to Tumblr in any capacity beyond this but the truth needs to be out there. (And if you're curious about the profile picture/description/etc, I had to dress this blog up a bit so it didn't look like a bot and trigger any algorithms.)
Content warnings for this post:
Heavily discusses kinks and has screenshots of fetish art
References grooming/pedophilia accusations
References transphobia/harassment accusations
This is going to be an EXTREMELY long post with lots of screenshots, so the rest is under a cut.
Edit: Here is the end of the post so you can read it all at once. https://www.tumblr.com/casualartisanninja/747977941832613888/loose-ends
The incident in Hobqueer’s server
I think a good place to start would be the spark that set off this whole chain reaction.
I’m not sure how long I’d been in that server for when the NSFW in general incident happened. But one thing’s for sure - I didn’t start the conversation about NSFW topics. Like I mentioned on the Reddit post where someone had found me and started accusing me under my comment on the Janitor.AI post, I saw the people there discussing mpreg and oviposition. I looked at it and thought “wow the rules are a lot more lax than I initially thought!”. Yes, I know, looking back, that should’ve been a huge red flag. I also know that, looking back, I should never talk about NSFW in the general chat- even if everyone else is doing it. “If so-and-so jumped off a cliff” and all. I’m really sorry that I did that, and it was definitely a lesson for me.
But I really wasn’t thinking about that at the time. It wasn’t my intention to hurt anyone, and I especially wouldn’t have done it if I knew minors would be there. I know it wasn’t an 18+ server, and it was just a frankly idiotic move on my part. I just saw “Sniper pregnant” and pictures of the mercs with big bellies, and let my better judgment and reasoning get clouded.
However, the way that they’re portraying this incident is extremely intellectually dishonest. Gabriel failed to mention in his callout post that those minors were looking at and sharing fetish art of the mercs, leaving out most of the context for those. Thankfully one of my friends from Chipspeech (who I’ll leave anonymous) joined the server to check and see if the fetish art was still there. It was. Hobqueer and the moderators never deleted any of the discussion, and worst of all they left the fetish pictures up in full view of everybody. One person, who later admitted to being a minor in a dm, even gave a pretty graphic description of a tentacle hentai/mpreg comic. Be warned, this contains NSFW content. I blurred the names of anybody who isn't mentioned in this post.
I've run out of room for images, so I have to add the rest in another reblog. This will be a very long thread with a lot of images, so please bear with me.
#mavisposting#xxcherenkov-gremlinxx#allegations#accusations#explanation#debunking#tf2 fandom#chipspeech fandom
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A different public
Via tireless @luckydogsgroove - thanks a LOT, chica!- my morning back in Athens starts with this, freshly out:
The mythical NYT, to which this stupid shipper is subscribed since at least the beginning of her mission abroad - along with Le Monde, The Economist and the local best I Kathimerini (The Daily News) these are indispensable work tools.
Lo and behold, it's a completely different vibe in here, far far away from BBC shitty innuendo or the rehashed, diluted Waypoints hogwash in recent interviews. Time to play it seriously and create significant content, not timeline fodder.
Things like this, for example:
I note the slight error - it's 43, not 42 years old - but also the use of 'heartthrob' instead of 'hunk': in the highly formulaic universe of press jargon, this is a -notable- notch up the respectability scale.
And before the Disgruntled Tumblrettes harpies start their grotesque, gratuitous and incompetent bickering again, NYT played by the strike rules and I doubt they would host a strike saboteur in their pages. Stick it way up where you know, duckies:
Of course he had to include her, he always does. And I bet the journo is always nicely asked (also bet he did it personally, not the publicist) to do so in print. And by the way, where did the old, pretzel contorted explanation of " Sassenach means foreigner and I am a foreigner too, and we are all foreigners in a very inclusive Scotland" (not verbatim, just the gist of it) go?
Heh. Thought so. We're back to the good basics and I would take the Sassenach/C association any day. Counting small blessings, here.
Of course, the main info is the SS gin launching: this confirms my theory of a new, younger, urban and more sophisticated crowd for his alcohol. Eat your socks, Mordor. This is how everybody begins to shift gears, when changing marketing and branding strategies: what your hatred and stupidity didn't let you see, is that the mommies were the readily available sandbox for things obviously designed for a greater scale.
I will not comment the 5 GLA highlighted recommendations, that include the Kelvingrove Park, a cheesemonger and a seafood place (I'd try both in a heartbeat), because I have to start my working day and you do not need me to read all this. I will, however, keep readily available a word copy of this article for anyone without a NYT subscription who wants to read it, exactly as I did for C's essay when I commented it at length.
Judging by the three available comments (it is, after all, very fresh), it has been very well received, by a completely different, well-traveled, epicurean urbanite audience. And that is a BIG plus:
I see change. I see different. I see exactly what I needed to see. Unlike LAX, which seems reserved for silly shenanigans, New York is their real US port of call and the place they use when they want to go relevant about something they really care about.
I am back. And I didn't forget I promised you something about Tehran. I think it's feasible, very soon.
Onwards.
PS: I will be completely relieved and happy the second I read something at least similar in The New Yorker. For relevance, primarily: they need that knowledgeable, disposable cash crowd like there's no tomorrow.
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to eden | chapter three
𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: “Well, your seduction technique needs some work if it’s something you’ve been working on for longer than this evening.” Rin manages, resisting the urge to run her hands through his silken curls, fingers instead curling into blades of grass.
“Does it? It certainly didn’t take much convincing for you to agree to be here tonight. And,” Astarion looks up at her as his hands run down the curve of her waist, one anchoring itself on her hip as the other travels farther south. “I remember those delectable little sounds you made as I drank your blood the last time.”
✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧
𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Astarion x F! Tav
𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: E
𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 6,756
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Dirty talk, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal sex
𝒶/𝓃: Hi! Welcome to chapter 3, or the chapter where I wrote 6k of smut in a week. I hope you enjoy reading this chapter, and please enjoy the bit of Astarion POV that lives at the very end :). Let me know your thoughts down in the comments, and as always, reblogs and likes are so greatly, greatly appreciated! LOVE YOU ALL!!!
MDNI, 18+ CONTENT
ao3 here
masterlist
Astarion's words to her ring in her ears, ricocheting around as the scene replays in her head, her footsteps light over the loamy earth as she passes tree after tree on her way towards a small clearing in the forest ahead.
“Just you and me and—well, maybe a little death? Figuratively speaking.”
Despite that Rin knows exactly what Astarion means with his little play on words, it still takes her a moment to fully process the sentence, mind drawing a blank as she mentally calculates the fact that Astarion—eternal pain in the ass and the unfortunate recurring subject of her recent dreams—is suggesting that the two of them enjoy a nice roll around in the hay.
She reaches out to grab the wine bottle from his hands, bringing it to her lips to take a sip as she lowers her lashes coyly, hoping the bottle will cover some of the flush rising to her cheeks as memories from said dreams flit around in her mind’s eye—imaginings of his lips and hands and oh-so-sharp fangs.
Astarion’s not wrong, she realizes as she holds back a grimace—the wine is decidedly awful, even by her own relatively lax standards surrounding any and all things alcoholic.
She should say no. It would be crossing a line that Rin doubts they could ever come back from, at least not if she wanted to maintain the somewhat shaky balance of companionship that they had recently discovered. Her improper dreams about him notwithstanding, she still considered Astarion to be firmly in the realm of ‘occasionally enjoyable to be around but still questionable at best’.
But on the other hand she can’t deny her attraction to him, something her subconscious seems to remind her of with growing frequency—perhaps if she agrees to this, she can get it out of her system, get him out of her system so that he will no longer haunt her thoughts and dreams.
Besides, Astarion was quite attractive, all things considered. And good with his hands, at least presumably. Rin had certainly seen him pick enough locks to know he had an adequate amount of…finesse.
Rin sends a playful wink Astarion’s way, her decision made.
“How lucky for you that ‘little deaths’ are my personal favorite kind.” She takes another small sip of his wine as she surveys him and the seductive look painted on his face, lips somehow looking more plush than usual if that were even possible.
“Is that a ‘yes’ then, darling?”
“If it was a ‘no’ do you think I’d still be standing here?” Rin gives him a roll of her eyes to add a little bit of normalcy back to the situation. “I’ll see you in a little bit, then.”
“Indeed you will, my love. Indeed you will."
Absolute idiocy. Rin takes a deep breath as she desperately wishes she had brought another bottle of wine with her, if only to have something else to focus on as she walks to where she knows he is waiting for her. Instead she busies her hands with picking at the hem of the blouse she wears, forgoing any stays underneath, her breasts instead brushing against the soft white linen with no barrier.
She doesn’t know what she is doing.
She wants to tell herself she doesn’t know why she even agreed—it’s much easier to feed herself a lie that there is no underlying reason she picked him over the others, especially when his offer was far from the only one she’d received tonight.
But there it was again, that same feeling rising up once more that Rin had felt the night he asked for her blood and every time since that he has drank from her, his lips licking and sucking against her skin. That same feeling of so desperately wanting to be wanted—needed—ringing in her ears and pressing into the space between her eyes, that strange pull towards him she had no real explanation for.
Clearly, she was only interested in self-sabotage. And sleeping with Astarion was the surest way to the hells, as far as she was concerned.
Rin sighs as she continues walking, dragging a hand through her unbound hair as the sounds of the celebration behind her grow dimmer with each step, a small blessing. It was bad enough that everyone will know what exactly they are getting up to this evening when they notice the two of them missing.
The last thing she needs is for everyone to have to hear it happening, as well.
It was already enough of a humiliating experience each and every time one of her dear companions made a point to draw attention to the marks on her neck that never seemed to fully heal; ranging from Karlach and Shadowheart’s teasing remarks to Wyll and Gale’s disapproving gazes.
At least Lae’zel seemed to bear it no mind—though as long as it wasn’t the githyanki’s neck on the line, Rin supposed, Lae’zel had no reason to care about what she did or did not do with her body so long as she maintained her focus on the tadpole.
With little ceremony Rin steps into the clearing, taking in the break of the trees around her. Moonlight pours in from above, the milky rays incandescent as they illuminate the verdant carpet of green on the ground. The smallest of violets growing up in between the long blades of grass, their purple blooms tiny dots of color.
Finally, she lays her eyes on him, half dressed—because, of course he is—and Rin resists the urge to roll her eyes as he leans against the moss-covered bark of a nearby tree.
Astarion languishes in the moonlight reflecting off of his bare skin like some sort of God fashioned out of the purest and most pristine marble, and sure to be just as cold to the touch.
He was undeniably beautiful, her chest constricting at the sight of him.
His claret eyes swivel to meet Rin’s own, a carnal seductiveness in them making the dark red irises practically glow.
“I’ve been waiting for you, you know.” There’s already a touch of impatience in his tone that brings a pleased smile to her face, Astarion’s frustration at being made to wait for her presence marring the captivating visage he had put on for her.
And wait, he had. Rin had made sure he would have to, after all. She may have agreed to fuck him, but she would rather be struck down by Shar herself than have it look as though she was too eager to be here with him.
“You’re not the only one who propositioned me, you know.” She calls from across the clearing, keeping her chin up despite the nerves she feels building up ever so slightly as the reality of what she has agreed to begins to set in.
Rin musters her courage, putting on the most unaffected expression she knows how and hopes that it shows over the slight warmth she feels rising in her cheeks.
“Oh, I’m sure not. You’re far too beautiful to be left alone on a night like this,” His smirk is maddening, the confidence in it making her want to slap him as he strides towards where she stands next to a tree full of night blooming flowers.
“I thought you didn’t give compliments, Astarion.” A raise of her brow is all she gives Astarion as he saunters nearer.
“I’ll make an exception just for you, darling.” They are velvet-smooth words, honed with precision to bend her to his will.
The blush on Rin’s face grows, and she hates the way her stomach flips at his compliment, though something in her questions the sincerity of it.
She doesn’t need him to tell her of her beauty, she’s gotten away with plenty using her confidence in them over the years. But hearing the words come from his lips, sincere or otherwise, has her slight exasperation towards him breaking with the tiniest of cracks.
Astarion stops only a hair’s breadth away from her, filling her space with his presence. He raises his hand slowly towards her upturned face, and when his fingers finally touch her she withholds the small exhale of air that threatens to leave her lungs.
“I’ve been waiting since the moment I set eyes on you, you know.” His hand brushes against her cheek, stroking over the freckles that scatter across her skin. “Waiting to have you.”
This is the first time he’s ever touched her like this so openly and despite herself she feels a small flash of wanting kindle deep in her belly at the feeling of his cool fingertips, his touch delicate against the planes of her face.
“You don’t have me yet.” She keeps her voice steady despite the warmth waking inside her, eyes narrowing slightly as he cups her cheek.
“Don’t I? You’re here, aren’t you? And I don’t think you want to talk. I think you want to be known. To be tasted.” More svelte words, like something she’s sure she’s read before in a storybook.
“And what do you want, Astarion?” Rin raises her brow in question, the expression of seduction on Astarion’s face setting her off-kilter.
“What do any of us want? Pleasure. Yours. Mine. Our collective ecstasy.” Astarion keeps his voice low as he leans in, tilting his head ever so slightly to take in the expression on her face. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? To lose yourself in me?”
Rin feels her heart stutter at the full brunt of his sensuality, those honeyed words carving a place deep into the recesses of her mind. This Astarion was so different, such a stark contrast to the version of him that had become her standard.
Rin isn’t positive she likes it. It just doesn’t feel like him.
“What I want is a little fun.” She takes a step away from him, her back meeting the trunk of the tree as he follows, stepping into her space once more.
“Then let’s have some fun.”
Astarion’s arms find their way to her waist, sliding around as he presses himself closer to her body. Instantly, Rin remembers that moment in the cave, when she could think about nothing else but her wish for his hands to be on her skin instead of the thick leather and metal of her armor.
Astarion’s hands find the bottom of her shirt and he lifts it off of her form, tossing it to the side without a second thought. His eyes skate down Rin’s newly exposed skin, her nipples hardening in the cool air of the night. He drags a hand from its place at her waist to palm at a full breast, weighing it in his palm.
“Who knew you were hiding such lovely breasts hiding underneath all those drab tunics of yours.” He muses as his thumb brushes over her nipple lightly, it pebbling under his touch.
Rin’s swallow is audible, mouth held closed on a gasp she refuses to release as that single touch drives heat straight to her core.
“Any other surprises you’ve got hidden, darling?” Astarion tweaks the hardened peak as he says the words, his face nearing hers as his other hand comes to lift under her chin, tilting her face up towards his own.
“You’re a decent rogue, I’m sure you can find anything I may happen to be hiding.” Rin whispers the words, her eyes moving to his plush lips, now only inches away from her own as her breath stutters in her chest.
“Oh, I’m confident enough in my abilities to assure you I’ll be able to find everything, darling.” Astarion’s smirk is the only answer she gets before his lips press against her own.
The first touch of his lips on hers feels electric, her eyes sliding shut as her arms find their way around his neck. Rin lets her fingers tangle into the soft curls at his nape, deepening the kiss as Astarion pushes his thigh in between her own.
He runs his hands up and down the curve of her waist as Rin savors the feeling of his lips again her own, caressing her bare skin as he kisses her. It’s not long before she feels Astarion’s hands brush lower, past the line of her waist and over the swell of her hips, reaching down to her thighs before grabbing at them from below.
He lifts her with surprisingly little effort, the bark rough against her skin as Astarion controls the kiss, his lips moving against her own before nipping at her bottom lip. He soothes the bite with a lick, asking for entry and Rin eagerly complies, lips parting and tongue meeting his own halfway. She can taste the faintest tang of iron on his mouth as their kiss grows hungrier, her breasts pressing hard against his chest.
Astarion pulls his lips away from hers only to kiss a line to her jaw, mouth brushing lightly along the lines of her face and down the skin of her neck as his tongue licks over the still healing marks from his last feed. His hips press into her own, the beginnings of his erection hardening as he pushes into the space between her still-clothed thighs.
“Eager, Astarion?” Rin teases as she rolls her head to the side in invitation, her hips canting against his own slow rolls against her core.
“Who wouldn’t be with such a lovely little treat in their arms?” Astarion’s fangs brush against her neck, not hard enough to break the skin but enough that Rin can still feel the sharpness of the points as they drag. Gooseflesh covers the skin of her arms, nipples hard against his chest as a shiver runs through her and a small noise breaks free from her throat.
He knows how much she likes it—the bastard—his smirk obvious against her skin as his mouth continues to press small kisses along the column of her throat.
Astarion backs her away from the tree, his hands holding firm as he directs the two of them instead towards a spot of grass nearby, settling onto his knees as he lays Rin down against the tapestry of green.
Astarion’s hands still hold onto her thighs as he kneels between her open legs, looking down upon her in the silvered beams of moonlight that shine through the canopy of trees, her hair strewn around her like a shimmering golden halo amongst the violets.
Rin lets her fingers drift out towards him, the warmth of her palms pressing lightly against the coolness of his skin as she brushes them against the hard planes of his abdomen, fingertips dragging up over his chest with a surprisingly delicacy. She brings her gaze up to meet his own, and it takes all but a moment of their eyes meeting one another’s for Rin to be momentarily taken aback by what she sees there in the depths of his claret eyes.
Astarion’s gaze is like tempered flame, the fiery passion that should be there smothered as if being held back by an imaginary grate, unable or unwilling to reach his eyes. Her brow furrows as she steals her hands back from his skin, opening her mouth to say something—anything—to him, but Astarion is faster, ending the moment from her before she can fully figure out the words that need to be said.
“Now, my darling, let’s get to the fun part.” That look in Astarion’s eyes is gone, hidden, replaced instead by a smirk as a hand slides along the outside of her thigh, reaching up to grasp at her at her breast as he lowers his head to the other. A finger circles her nipple as he blows air onto its twin, relishing in Rin’s intake of breath.
“Astarion,” Rin starts, slightly breathless. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s okay if you don’t. Really.”
He stops, frozen above her as if his mind was still catching up with the words coming out of her mouth, breath barely coming from his lungs.
“We can go back and just pretend this never happened. No harm done.” She speaks in a rush, hands hovering in midair as if in surrender.
Astarion exhales against her chest, his breath finally returning as if alive once more.
“Well, darling, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want this, now would I?” His eyes narrow as he looks up at Rin from his place at her chest, hints of familiar agitation tainting his words. “I could have easily found a drunk tiefling to take to bed instead and it would have been far less troublesome than seducing you has been.”
Rin’s retort dies on her lips and instead turns into a moan as Astarion brings his attention back to her breasts, taking her nipple into his mouth and running his tongue over the bud before sucking. He has her back bowing, pushing her chest closer to his mouth as his other hand thumbs at its twin.
“Well, your seduction technique needs some work if it’s something you’ve been working on for longer than this evening.” Rin manages, resisting the urge to run her hands through his silken curls, fingers instead curling into blades of grass.
“Does it? It certainly didn’t take much convincing for you to agree to be here tonight. And,” Astarion looks up at her as his hands run down the curve of her waist, one anchoring itself on her hip as the other travels farther south. “I remember those delectable little sounds you made as I drank your blood the last time.”
He brushes over the fabric of her pants, hand cupping at her still covered wetness before rubbing lightly. Rin knows can smell her arousal, her hips bucking into his hand instinctively.
“I can tell just how excited you are to be here, underneath me.” He circles his fingers over the apex of her thighs as Rin sends an impertinent look his way, though the fire of it is dampened by the pleasure beginning to run its way through her veins.
The hand between her legs finds its way up to the waist of her pants, fingers grabbing along the band as he pulls. He works them down her legs with an almost sinful slowness, as though savoring the sight of the last real bit of armor she has sliding off her body, leaving her clad only in a simple pair of underwear.
Astarion looks down at Rin, eyes surveying her form below him from her pinked cheeks to her peaked breasts, a flush spreading across her chest with every second his eyes linger. Red eyes follow the line of her body down lower, over waist and hips before taking in the tiny triangle of fabric covering the only part of her still secret to him.
His fingers grab onto the sides of her underwear and the way it clings to her center is downright lewd, her wetness darkening the gusset as Astarion pulls them down her thighs.
“And to think I’ve not even started yet, love.” He makes a show of holding them up and looking at her panties once he has them off her body, a smug satisfaction written over his features at the arousal coating the cotton.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Astarion. It’s just been awhile.” Rin averts her eyes from him, words a huff despite the flush of her cheeks, the color visible even under the darkened sky above.
“Darling, I don’t think for a minute that just anyone can get this kind of reaction out of you.” He throws her underwear aside with a flourish of his wrist, the small scrap of cloth landing who knows where. “I think that, despite that smart mouth of yours, you’ve been wanting this. Now, let me see you.”
Astarion’s hands come back to rest on her legs, and Rin parts them for him as his thumbs brush circles on the soft skin there. He looks at her once more, her dark lashes low over eyes swirling with lust and core glistening with want.
Cool fingers draw teasing lines up the inside of a thigh, heading towards the place he knows she so desperately wants to be touched, even if she’d never admit it.
“Tell me, my darling bard, have you dreamed about me?” His voice is like dark honey as Astarion finally touches her, his fingers parting through her wet folds to gather her slick on his fingers. “Dreamed about this? About all the things I’m about to do to you?”
Her head falls back onto the violet strewn grass, a small gasp falling from her lips at his touch. The blush on her face deepens as she only grows wetter with every slow pass of his cool fingers on her most intimate place, skin warming with every passing moment.
“What is it? Nothing clever to say now?” Astarion taunts her as he lowers his head to press a kiss to her lower belly, Rin’s hips jumping at the contact. He chuckles against her skin as his finger traces around her entrance, a low groan escaping his lips at the evidence of her arousal he finds there.
“I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about.” The words come out far weaker than Rin would like, the last vestiges of composure she has disappearing with every brush of his fingers.
“Convenient how you never seem to know what I mean when it counts.” He presses the finger teasing her entrance inside, her soft moan music to his ears as he pushes in to the knuckle. There’s no resistance as he pumps his finger experimentally, dragging it out before settling back into her warmth.
“Gods, darling, you’re absolutely soaked and I’ve barely even touched you.” He curls his finger deep inside, pressing against her walls, and Rin is suddenly unsure if anyone has ever made her feel so good with such little effort before.
Astarion takes his time with her, fucking her with his finger as he finds the perfect spot to caress deep inside her with almost alarming ease, drawing cries from her throat as he works her body.
Rin keens when he pushes inside with a second finger, that sweet stretch alighting her walls as he moves them faster, intent to draw out her pleasure with practiced hands.
“I can’t help but wonder if this part of you tastes just as sweet as your blood.”
Astarion's head lowers between her legs, his tongue flicking out to brush against her clit. Rin cries out at the feeling, hands coming up to grab at his hair as her hips buck, Astarion lapping at the small pearl with broad strokes while his fingers piston in and out of her.
His fingers move fast as he licks at her slow, the duality of the motions driving her to the peak, the fire inside her roaring as he curls those fingers once more into that spot, sending her hips bucking.
She comes apart with ease on his fingers, her body tightening around him as her back arches, cries leaving her lips like birdsong. Delicate fingers tighten in his hair like a vice as she rides his face, hips moving in a desperate rhythm to the cadence of her orgasm.
Astarion eases her through it, fingers slowing their thrusts as her body tires, breath heavy with the effort as she comes back down, her entire being ever so slowly finding its way back to itself.
The hands in Astarion’s hair loosen, fingertips instead brushing through the strands with a soothing motion, though she’s unsure which of them it’s for.
“Gods, Astarion…” She throws an arm over her eyes as he eases his fingers out of her, pressing one last kiss to her inner thigh before moving up her body to hover above her on an elbow.
Rin opens up an eye to look at him, swallowing down the night air as the arm over her face comes to wrap around his neck. She pulls him close, pressing her lips softly against his own, barely a brush.
She can taste the hint of herself on his glistening lips and when Astarion kisses her back, harder this time, she flicks her tongue out to lick along the seam his mouth.
“Can I touch you? Taste you?” Rin pants the words, her lips still on his as she comes down from her high, a hand wandering down the expanse of his chest towards his need pressing against her. She stops her hand at his waistband, fingertips caressing the skin there as she looks up into his eyes, biting her lip as she waits for his permission.
He stops for a moment, his lips no longer moving over her mouth as if the question of her wanting to pleasure him in return confuses him, his veil of confidence slipping for a single moment as he considers.
The mask is back almost as quickly as it falls, a sensual smile finding its way onto his lips instead as he leans away from her.
“Be a good girl and maybe I’ll let you next time.”
“Oh? Next time, Astarion? Enjoying yourself that much already?” Rin ignores the way her empty core clenches at his words.
“Darling, there’s so much I want to do to you that a single night will never be enough.” Astarion’s hand slides over her breasts and down once more to reach between her legs, brushing over her clit again with practiced fingers.
“We’ll see about that.” She sighs the words, eyes falling shut as he draws tiny circles, the beginnings of pleasure building once more.
“Are you ready for me, darling?” Astarion’s lips brush over the skin of her neck, leaving a trail of kisses over her throat towards her collarbone.
“Very.” Rin grinds her hips into his still-clothed erection, anticipation building at the prospect getting to feel his skin on her own in full, of finally getting to experience the sensation of him inside her.
Astarion leans back from her as he rids himself of his pants, stripping them off his pale limbs with an elegant motion before tossing them to join the pile of their clothes lying somewhere nearby.
Emerald irises scan Astarion, the full expanse of him on display for her—from the points of his ears and curling locks of white, down over the lean muscles of his chest before landing on the thickness of his cock.
“Like what you see, my dear?” He leans back over Rin, his body gliding over her own until his hips hover above her parted thighs.
“Decidedly. Though I rather think I’d like to feel exactly what it is I see.” Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips as Astarion settles between her spread legs, his hardness against her center.
Astarion slides his length through her slit, the head of his cock brushing up against her clit before moving back down to press at her entrance instead, the length of him coated in her slick as he waits there, hips unmoving. Rin whines in frustration, hips rolling in a desperate attempt to take him fully inside her.
“Impatient, are we?” Astarion pulls his hips away from the center of her, smirking as Rin shoots him a look of indignation.
“You know, it’s very rude to make a lady wait, Astarion.” She manages a prim sigh, lashes fluttering in his direction.
“A woman you may be, but a Lady you most certainly are not,” Astarion’s grin is positively wicked as he pushes his hips back to the entrance of her sex. “Last time I checked, Ladies do not let vampires fuck them out in the middle of the woods.”
“Well it’s a good thing I’m not a Lady, then, so that you can get on with it.” With short thrusts Astarion is back to teasing, pressing in with the smallest bit of pressure before pulling back out much to the dissatisfaction painted on Rin’s features.
“I’m going to have to teach you how to take your time, aren’t I, pet?” Astarion tsks with an almost playful disapproval before he finally begins to push his cock deeper into her body. The feeling has Rin’s head spinning, his hardness stretching her inch by inch as he slides inside.
“Gods, you’re tight.” Astarion’s voice is thin, eyes fluttering shut as he continues his way into the warmth of her body.
“I wasn’t lying when I said it has been awhile. Sex has been—“ Rin breaks off with a low moan as Astarion bottoms out. “unfortunately low on my priority list.”
“Well, I suppose we’ll have to fix that then, won’t we?” He’s fully seated inside her cunt as she adjusts to the sensation of his thickness filling her, the slight burn a pleasurable one.
“Oh, come on! Please, Astarion.” Rin moves her hips against his own, trying to create some sort of movement, friction, anything as he sits inside her unmoving, peering down with a smirk on his lips.
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Astarion pulls out of her until only the tip of him is left inside, a whine leaving her throat at the slide of him against her walls. He pauses only a moment before pushing back in with a hard thrust that has her gasping as he presses in as deep as he can.
He starts all over again, cock sliding out with aching slowness before thrusting once more, the glide of him easy—sinful—with her wetness. Rin looks at him, gaze fevered and lips parted on a moan as he teases her with deep, slow thrusts that he knows are not nearly enough to sate her.
“How do you want my cock? Speak up, sweet thing.” His words have her eyes moving up to his own, the blush on her cheeks and chest deepening.
“Faster, harder,” There was no sense in playing coy with what she wanted, not now. “Both.”
“Your wish is my command.”
Astarion gives Rin exactly what she wants; the heady, sleepy speed of his previous thrusts long forgotten as he instead quickens his pace, moving in and out of her body with quick rolls of his hips into her own. He braces himself above her, cock dragging against her walls as she loses herself to euphoria.
His thrusts hit deep, both of them moaning at the contact as they writhe together, Rin’s legs hooking around Astarion’s waist as she takes him deeper.
“Is this what you wanted, to be fucked like this?” His words are as rough as the ground beneath her back, thrusts not stopping their momentum as he leans down to speak the words into her ear, tongue licking at the shell of a pointed ear.
“I wanted whatever you’d give me, Astarion,” She feels laid bare as she speaks, her arms wrapping around his neck to bring him closer, back arching into him as she nears completion once more. “But what do you want?”
“What do I want?” His hips lose their rhythm at her words, stuttering, as he stares into her fevered gaze. Rin looks into the deep crimson of his own, seeing the absent heat she had searched for earlier kindling to life as Astarion finally seems to hear her words for once.
“Yes. Please. Tell me what you want.” She tries to match his rhythm, hips meeting his own as best as she can follow, fingers digging themselves into the curls at the base of his neck as her head bows backwards in pleasure, a moan falling from her lips as he suddenly changes the angle of his cock, pressing against her sweet spot with every thrust. “Fuck me, feed from me. Anything.”
Astarion’s eyes draw from her blissed out expression to the newly exposed stretch of skin, the column of her throat inviting him to bite down and taste the essence that runs in her veins just underneath soft skin.
“I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” Astarion’s lips come to rest on her skin and he licks a line up the column of her throat, pressing a quick kiss to what was becoming his favorite spot before biting down, breaking through her flesh. He wastes no time, sucking greedily at her blood as his cock hits deep inside of her cunt, the dual sensations drawing moans from both of their lips.
Astarion can feel her body clenching hard around him, hot and wet, her orgasm close at hand. His tongue licks and sucks at her blood as he pumps his hips harder, a hand snaking down her stomach to press at her clit before rubbing softly.
“You can come for me, can’t you, darling?” He props himself up on an elbow, looking down at her, hair strewn around her messily as moonlight brushes against her skin.
Her eyes open to look at his, and he can see the fevered pleasure in the depths of the green as she nods her head, her words replaced with small sighs that fall from her lips instead.
“I want to watch you as you fall apart.” His head bends down to suck again at the blood leaking from her neck, their moans filling the air in unison as he drinks and drinks, hips never stopping their rhythm as he buries himself inside her.
All it takes is a few more gentle turns of his fingers over her clit and another pull of his mouth at her neck to send Rin over the edge, her body clamping down on his own as she comes hard. Astarion fucks her through it, pushing deep as he finds himself lulled into the pleasure of her orgasm washing over them both, her hips rutting into his own as she chases her high.
Her fingertips grip at his shoulders as she rides it out, and when Astarion feels confident she’s been sated he drags his fingers from her center to instead brush a stray strand of hair away from her face, head bowing down to chase more drops of her blood as it runs down her neck and onto the ground below.
“Don’t stop. I want you feel you come too.” Her hips keep up their own tempo despite the haze of her orgasm weighing down her body, and the sound of her begging has his cock driving harder into her own once more.
“You didn’t think I planned on not taking my own pleasure, did you, darling?” Astarion speaks into her bloodied neck, mouthing at her still-leaking skin.
“Show me, then.” Rin’s fingers run through his hair as his forehead bows to her shoulder. Something in her words that he doesn’t understand has him chasing his own orgasm, thrusts turning sloppy and hips snapping against her own as he gives himself over his own pleasure.
With a final thrust he lets go, come leaking from his cock deep inside of her as he moans into her skin. His hips pump against her own, slowing down only once he has emptied himself fully in her warmth.
Astarion all but collapses on top of Rin, a contented smile on her face as her hands still run through his hair as he works to catch his breath.
Slowly, Astarion manages to lift himself off of her and pulls his softened cock from her body, his come spilling out of her and painting her thighs with milky white. He looks at the sight for a moment before turning towards the pile of their clothes nearby, reaching over to pull out something to clean them both up with.
Rin accepts the cloth from Astarion, wiping his spend from between her legs before reaching over to grab her long discarded tunic and panties, pulling them onto her body before flopping back onto the earth, limbs boneless.
Astarion follows her lead, black pants sliding back onto long legs before arranging himself with far more grace than Rin had managed, reclining back casually.
“Was it all you had hoped for, darling?” He turns to look at her from where he lays next to her, his body no longer touching her own but his confidence remaining.
“You have no complaints from me.” Rin turns on her side to face him, the afterglow still warming her as she watches his eyes flick up stare up at the sky swirling far away. “And yourself?”
“Just as perfect as I knew it would be.” His eyes still don’t leave the sky above, clouds drifting lazily across the moon and stars.
“This really is quite a pretty place you found.” Her eyelids feel heavy as they slowly flutter shut, unsure of whether the sex or the blood loss is to blame for the sleepiness that settles over her body.
“Yes, well, only the best and all that.” His hand cuts through the air with a dismissive motion as Astarion fails to imbue the words the amount of warmth they should have, stilted in a way that she can’t quite put her finger on.
Later, Rin will blame it on being just exhausted enough, mind still too addled from his fangs in her neck to decipher his tone and instead convince herself she simply heard him wrong before sending the memory away to the back of her mind where it can no longer bother her.
But for now, she gives a quiet laugh before sighing a soft “Goodnight Astarion” across the space between them as she lets the sleep pulling at her mind take over, pushing her into what she can only hope will be an easy, blissful sleep.
✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧
He feels…less for her than he should. Something, at the very least, but still not the sentiment he should feel as he leans against the thick trunk of a tree, watching Rin’s chest move in and out with calm breaths, sleep long since taken over.
It had worked, his little plan, just as he had known it would.
Astarion may not consider himself much of a planner—he preferred action over long, drawn out, and over-thought strategies—but if there is one thing he knows of himself, it is that he knows how to play to his strengths.
And seduction—sex—was nothing if not one of his strengths.
He doubts carrying on his plan will be terribly difficult either. She was already eager enough to jump head first into bed with him, she’ll easily find her way back again with little prompting the next time.
She was a good lover, better than he had expected. So much more pliant and willing than he had ever thought she would be, all lush curves and soft skin, elven grace and human fragility wrapped into one.
He enjoyed himself, far more than he had thought he would be able to.
She was an easy target, beautiful and lonely and all too quick to destroy those ever-present walls of clever words when given the smallest bit of affection, replacing them with a surprising softness and vulnerability in their place.
An errant thought briefly enters his mind, a small voice that says he is not worthy to see such things—unworthy of her vulnerability and whatever sort of twisted, misplaced affection it was that she seemed to have for him.
Astarion pushes the voice out of his mind, brushing it away with a quick and thorough shove and a forceful No.
What mattered was his plan.
He would feed into that affection, give her the attention she so very clearly craved, the praise she tried to hard to pretend she didn’t want, and in return she would fight for him. Protect him.
From the tadpole and from Cazador.
And then when it was all over, if he still stands as a member of the living—or whatever version of alive it is that applies to him, his mortal soul long gone—he will leave them all and disappear into the ether to live out his life in the darkness as he so wishes, finally free.
Astarion can see the beginnings of dawn breaking on the horizon, that subtle lightening of the sky from indigo to the hazy pinky-orange of dawn as the stars wink out of existence for their daytime rest. Soon the sun will warm his lukewarm skin once more, its rays beaming down on his cold, undead body as he basks in its gift.
He stands, arms outstretched, ready to welcome the sunlight for as many days he has left, however few they may be.
#astarion x tav#astarion x f!tav#astarion x female tav#astarion bg3#astarion#astarion fic#my writing
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Mutually Assured Destruction Part 8
Part one here
Part seven here
They spent Friday on the couch, addicted to, of all things, an interior design competition show. Civilian felt fine enough for work but Jonathan refused to take them back. And when Civilian nearly fell over from dizziness in the shower, they begrudgingly admitted that he had a point.
At first Jonathan only glanced over occasionally from the doorway of the kitchen as he prepared tea and soup, or from his armchair as he read one of his books. But then his gaze lingered more and more until the third episode ended, when one of the contestants was declared winner of that round.
“What the fuck?” he said, sitting straighter. “That design was dogshit and everyone knew it.”
Civilian snorted. “They’ve been kissing this contestant’s ass all season so far. I don’t know why.”
“If he wins, I may have to break this television.”
“That’s not going to change the outcome.”
“No but it might make me feel better.”
When the asshole contestant lost, Jonathan fist pumped the air. Civilian couldn’t help but laugh behind the throw pillow.
“You are way more invested in this than I am,” they said.
“The world may be grossly unfair, but I like to pretend meritocracy exists on trashy reality shows.”
“Have you ever seen another competition show? That’s the last place for meritocracy.”
“Shut up and let me enjoy this young woman’s victory.”
Civilian grinned. “Or what?”
He glanced at them side-eyed, as if weighing his next words. “Or I’ll poison your soup with a laxative.”
Only a small flutter of nerves responded to his threat. It wasn’t necessarily the threat itself that caused it, but the matter-of-fact tone that delivered it. Joking or not, Jonathan’s threats never sounded empty. Even so, Civilian was going to trust him on his word. If he betrayed them and killed them anyway at the end of all this, at least Civilian didn’t live the rest of their days in a constant state of fear and panic.
“I’ve been on a mostly liquid diet the last three days, I don’t think you’d need a laxative to get the result you wanted,” they pointed out.
Jonathan pulled a face. “Disgusting. Point taken.”
“And speaking of soup . . .” Civilian let their eyes dart meaningfully to the kitchen.
“You’re hungry again?” Jonathan sighed and stood up from the couch. “Well, it’s a good sign I suppose.”
Civilian wondered, as Jonathan cooked for them on command, if he was lonely too. He had said he’d given up everything for his freedom. Perhaps he regretted such a high cost.
Or perhaps this was a long con, making Civilian feel warm and friendly to him so they wouldn’t snitch. You could never tell with Jonathan what, if anything, was sincere.
This time Jonathan included a thick grilled cheese with Civilian’s soup. They hid a smile — perhaps the laxative comment really did get to him.
“Will you let me go home tomorrow?” they asked as they stirred their soup.
“You ask that as if you’re my prisoner.”
“You mean, after forcing me to come here, making sure I have no idea where I am, and the ability to stop me from leaving, I’m not a prisoner.?”
“I — okay. Fair point. But you were the idiot who showed up to work with a 102 degree fever. Your judgment couldn’t be trusted. I don’t regret it.”
“You’re not answering my question,” Civilian said.
Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Yes, you can go home tomorrow. I could drop you off at the parking garage after dinner, even. I’m sure you’re dying for your bed again.”
Civilian’s eyes lit up. “Really? Tonight?”
“So excited,” he drawled. “You make it sound like I’ve kept you chained up in the basement this whole time.”
“Maybe if you had a basement you would have,” Civilian retorted.
“Don’t tempt me. You’d make a very nice prisoner — docile, sweet. That pulse of yours jackrabbiting in your chest while I spoon feed you soup.”
A strangle shiver danced along Civilian’s spine. Jonathan wouldn’t need chains to keep Civilian where he wanted them. Jonathan could steal every avenue of rebellion away from them, too. They should hate the thought of it. And they did.
But part of them didn’t. A part that Civilian didn’t want to analyze right now. Or ever.
After one last nourishing bowl of soup — during which Civilian did not imagine Jonathan spoon feeding it to them — Jonathan packed Civilian back into his car. He did not force Civilian to close their eyes on the way, but asked instead.
“The less you know about me, the safer you will be,” he pointed out.
Civilian complied, keeping their eyes shut tight the entire drive back. They didn’t even dare peek during the stoplights. Jonathan delivered them safe and sound to their car in the parking garage. Ever the gentleman, he got out first and opened the door for Civilian.
They hesitated. The entire “vacation” spent with him had Civilian chewing on the same question, caught in an endless debate on whether or not they should ask it.
“Well?” Jonathan asked, gesturing widely to the parking garage. “Don’t tell me you want the basement now that I’ve driven you all the way back here.”
Civilian swallowed their nerves. Screw it. Now or never.
“Your grand plan . . . .Is it going to hurt a lot of people?”
Jonathan gave them a cautious look. “Does it matter? It’s going to happen regardless.”
“I know. I just — don’t know what to expect out of you. Ever.” They swallowed and looked away. Maybe it was stupid to ask. What kind of answer could they even expect out of a person like Jonathan?
“My grand plan,” he replied slowly, thoughtfully, “is going to ensure my freedom in a way that can’t be threatened. And if it works the way it’s supposed to, then no. I’m not going to hurt anyone.”
Relief flooded them, a sudden weight lifted they hadn’t known they were carrying. Freedom. That’s what he wanted — not power or death, just freedom. Civilian couldn’t begrudge him that, no matter how screwed up their circumstances were.
Fingers tipped their chin back up to his gaze, which had turned steely.
“But no one had better get in my way.”
“I won’t,” said Civilian. “You — you deserve your freedom. I don’t want to jeopardize it. I know you probably don’t believe me but —“
He shushed them with one finger pressed against their lips. The hard glint of his eyes had softened. “It’s not safe for me to believe you. But I appreciate it all the same. Now go home, Civilian.”
Something strange fluttered and twisted in their gut at the feel of his finger on their lips. Civilian nodded, mute, before unbuckling the seatbelt and getting out of the car.
“Civilian! So good to see you back and at it again!”
Gloria popped her head between the divider wall of their desks, scaring the shit out of them.
“Yep,” said Civilian awkwardly. “It’s . . .good to be back?”
“Well I wouldn’t go that far. I noticed Jonathan wasn’t here the rest of last week. If that was my boyfriend I wouldn’t be eager to leave his tender loving care.”
Gloria winked and Civilian’s neck flushed in horrified embarrassment.
“It wasn’t — um, I —“ Civilian stuttered, but Gloria didn’t really wait on a response.
“Let me tell you, that boy was worried sick about you all last week. I’m glad he took those days off, he was useless. Always looking over the dividers for you, fidgeting at the computer, making ten cups of coffee. . . .”
Boy, when Jonathan put on a show he pulled out all the stops, Civilian thought with a snort. Though Gloria was such a romantic, it didn’t take much to fool her regardless.
“Yeah, he was pretty, uh, worried back home,” Civilian said, casting desperately about for a way to end this conversation.
“Back home you say? I didn’t think you guys took that step so soon. Good for you! Go get ‘em tiger!”
Dear God in heaven. Where was Jonathan’s power when you actually needed it?
“What? No — that’s not what —“
An then — as if Jonathan could read their mind as well as their boy — Civilian’s hand lifted up on it’s own accord. They watched with morbid fascination as their body pulled out the post it note pad and a pen and started scribbling.
“How do you write so well without looking?” Gloria asked, mystified.
True panic started to set in.
“I’m so sorry, Gloria, but I have a lot of work to catch up on,” they said frantically. “If you’ll excuse me —“
Her eyes widened. “Of course, of course! Don’t let me keep you. Talk to you soon, Civilian.”
The relief at watching her leave almost made Civilian forget what Jonathan had written to them until their hand picked up the post it note pad and waved it in front of their face.
Do you like Shakespeare? Want to see a play this weekend?
Civilian squinted at the handwriting, back in control again. Jonathan had never asked Civilian to go anywhere — he told them. Before Civilian could formulate how to reply — both personally and physically — their hand scribbled out another message.
Meet me in the b.r. ?
The question mark was added a second after the fact. Civilian waited for their body to stand up and walk like a puppet, but Jonathan seemed content to let them go on their own. Curious and a little apprehensive, Civilian stood up and headed to the break-room.
Jonathan was already putting fresh grounds in the coffee filter when they entered. He smirked at them.
“Next time, should I propel Gloria away from you with a sudden bathroom emergency.”
Civilian pulled a face. “You can control people’s bowels?”
His smirk twitched in response.
“That’s highly unethical,” they muttered.
“That’s not a no.”
Civilian pursed their lips against the yes they wanted to say and Jonathan’s smirk grew into a full smile.
“So, your answer,” he said, flipping the coffee pot on and leaning against the counter.
The thought of having a choice felt so foreign. Civilian wasn’t sure what he wanted from them. “Does the answer matter?”
“Shakespeare isn’t everyone’s cup of tea,” said Jonathan. “It’s Much Ado About Nothing, by the way.”
“Do you like that play?”
He gave her a curious look. “Yes, but that’s not what I’m asking.”
Civilian bit their lip. “Are you asking?”
He looked at them, brow furrowed, for a moment before realization dawned on him.
“Yes, Civilian. I’m asking.”
“Then — then I would love to go.”
“Excellent.” That boyish grin brightened his face.
Civilian had to remind themselves, against the flutters in their chest, that his inner self was never as innocent as his outer self looked
Part 9 here
Taglist: @those-damn-snippets @heroes-villains-side-blog @anonymousewrites @follow-me-into-the-fog @sunnyside-world, @rivalriotrenegade @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room @midnightsillusions @villain-obsessed-word-nerd @deflated-bouncingball @pickleking8 @cesspitoflove @to-sneak-away-and-hide @im-a-wonderling @hasel-anne @ghostly-writer @moonknight-s-cumdump @valiantlytransparentwhispers @galactic-squiddo @boomimhere @organizedchaos03 @dungeon-roomba @vidiaka @powerflower119 @cbiom @meltedgallium @skevethefool
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Hi it’s been a while since I read your blog but I just had to share that I saw a bellarke gif for the first time in a while and I am in PHYSICAL PAIN thinking about how COMPLETELY RUINED their story was in the end. Especially with that ONCE IN A LIFETIME CHEMISTRY *bangs fists on table* sorry I just had to let that out I hope you’re doing well anyways bye
Hi! Nice to see you. I'm not here very much anymore although I'm still checking in more or less on a daily basis. I'm not getting a lot of asks anymore so I don't post very much. I have never just been able to be like 'aha i have a thought let me disseminate it to my followers.'
I do better answering asks or I suppose commenting on other people's posts but I've been wary of that since the great fuckening of the 100 fandom.
I'm not watching a whole lot of tv anymore. But I do binge watch some shows. What's my latest? Oh. Only Murderers in the Building. Out of genre for me. But fun.
Recently I've been thinking about The 100 and missing how much I loved it. How much we all loved it. And the great characters. And the great ship that was Bellarke. Yeah, he sacrificed them to his ego but that doesn't mean the story wasn't told for the entire time. I suppose it ended up being a tragedy rather than a romance but that isn't out of genre.
We knew that there was always going to be the possibility that he would fuck us over. Fuck the story over. I tried to believe because I loved the story so much. I tried to believe JR wasn't a a dick, or at least not a dick in that way. But I was wrong.
I wasn't wrong about the story though. Bellarke was a love story and Clarke and Bellamy were in love. A tragic, unconsummated love alas because JR refused to pull the trigger although the story was there all the way through the end of season 6.
We should schedule a rewatch as a fandom. Like everyone should be able to remember what they loved about the show, now, long after it's over and without any of the fandom drama.
How does one schedule a rewatch of a 100 episode show that the most people could take part in, with neither a too rigorous watch schedule nor a too lax one that wouldn't get the job done?? I don't know. That sounds like organization.
Anyone want to pull together the fandom for a rewatch?
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Hey! So, I know you probably haven't watched it yet, BUT: when you do, I must know your comprehensive thoughts on the latest Rookie episode!?!
ASK AND YOU WILL RECEIVE!!!
Okay, because I'm insane, I'm going to split this into two sections: not-chenford, and chenford.
SPOILERS FOR 6x02 UNDER THE CUT
First up, everything NOT-chenford-related:
Honestly they could have botched it, but it was SO FUN having Randy back for the wedding. "Sit down, German, I got this." i mean???? iconic. Also having him be literally in Pete's place and WITH HIS GIRLFRIEND? even more iconic. I'm a ride or die Randy fan, so all his scenes just made me unreasonably happy :)
it was understandably short, but I loved having Celina ride with Nyla, finally. It was kind of satisfying to see her get humbled in interrogation, because imo Nolan has been kind of lax with her training, letting her get away with things the other rookies would have been fired for. So it's nice that she'll spend some time away from him and with a *ahem* more experienced TO. hopefully. We'll see.
Ugh, my heart breaks for Aaron this season. Kid's traumatized for REAL. And his comment to Celina about not sharing things with the therapist because he wants to get back on patrol, not necessarily get better. That bothered me. I really hope they dig into that a lot. But I also hope nothing horrible happens because of it. He seemed so unstable, even when he wasn't drunk. I'm also very interested to see where this goes with his and Celina's friendship. Just a lot of good stuff that could be a really thoughtful and interesting story if handled right...
Aaaaand this episode confirms that I intensely dislike Bailey. Everything about her character is just trying too hard, like the writers were so tired of having Nolan date and break up a few times, they were like okay fine this one can stay, and even though they have chemistry readings in the negatives, they keep trying to push it even though it feels so wrong. I'd rather have Nolan be single the rest of the show than be in this stale cardboard relationship. But it's fine, they're not going to split them up now, so I'll have to deal with it lol
The whole thing with Oscar suing was SO rushed. Like, so insanely rushed I couldn't even be annoyed at him. I hope they bring him back and do it for real, because that was weird to kind of shoehorn in there just for dramatic effect.
EPIC COP TEAMUP IN SUITS AND TIES MY BELOVEDDDD. Seriously they all looked SO GOOD chasing down bad guys and beating people up. White dress shirts were truly the MVPs of this episode
Will Celina just. be wearing long sleeves the rest of her life? Seriously how long has she been a rookie already?? Most of Angela's pregnancy and maternity leave, so at least 10 months, if not more. Hell, she should be graduating from the program soon. The timeline in this show is absolute trash.
Speaking of-- Baby Wopez name drop when????? poor girl's been nameless for too long
James coming in clutch with the playlist was chef's kiss. I LOVE that man
ALSO JAMES AND WESLEY'S BROMANCE. "I went with a suit." "Me too. Mine has a tie." "Oh my god, same!" I CAN'T WITH THESE TWO. Probably my favorite bromance of anyone ever.
Finally, just in general-- I know some people were put off by how much stuff was jam-packed into 42 minutes (again. how???) but I think they pulled it off reasonably well. There was actually very good pacing, lots of comedy and angst and everything in between. I personally LOVED this episode and I think it deserves a few rewatches just to pick up on everything they threw at us. It has its flaws, but it will definitely be a 100th episode to remember, that's for sure.
AND NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE MOMENT WE'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR.
Chenford thoughts :))))))
But first let me just get this out of the way real quick-- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHLSKDJFOAHGOIJWE;LKTH;SKLJD;LFKHAGLJKSDFA;HLGKJLSKJDKFJDKJFKDJFKJDKFJDKFJKD OH MY GOSHHHHHHHHHHHA;LKGHSJNBMNMCC HELP KJAEHKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGHGHGHGHGHGHGHG IM HYPERVENTILATING AHGHGHAHSHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
okay, anyway.
Here we go!
I'm just a little bit torn on how they decided to approach this. On the one hand, it was nice that they were still able to work together and talk without excessive drama. Although... Tim shutting the door on her did hurt. Yeah. That hurt a lot. But I had really hoped that they would acknowledge that Lucy was in the wrong last episode too. She was being completely unreasonable and like Tim said, she was projecting. But in this ep, it seemed like she was validated and he was the one being unreasonable. While his trauma with Isabel is something they desperately need to talk about (like Lucy said), she was also reacting too harshly to it and being unfair with her accusations. But honestly, it's okay. We still have 8 episodes to sort it out and it seems like they're very much on the right track. I'm hoping they have a really really really intense, tearful, honest, raw, cathartic conversation about the whole thing. Seems like that's the direction they're going, so I won't hold my breath but it is something that needs to happen.
ALL OF THEIR INTERACTIONS were just so. hnnggg. so chewy. so much going on. THE LOOKS DURING THE WEDDING. hang on I'll come back to that in a sec.
The scene with the Hammer was NEXT LEVEL. (Also fun that they named the episode after That Scene, specifically. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.........) For some reason I immensely enjoyed watching Tim get thrown around like a rag doll. Not sure what that's about. Never seen that side of myself before.
THE FORESHADOWING. That on-one-knee thing was more than I thought they'd give us, and OMG I ATE IT UP. The little pause, where Lucy's breath kind of catches, and Tim just seems kind of oblivious. THAT'S CINEMA, BABEY.
Kind of insane about Tim just passing out like that. Poor man.
CELINA MENTIONING LUCY'S BACHELORETTE PARTY????? hello even more foreshadowing :))))
The scene cuts back and forth when Lucy is helping with the cake and Tim with the flowers??? THEY'RE TELEPATHIC SOULMATES DON'T TALK TO ME.
And the fact that the lie detector was RANDY'S IDEA? I'm shrieking. "Ein wenig crazy," is definitely something my adhd bilingual ass has said irl
oh my lord how CLOSE she scoots her chair?? i'm melting
I thought it was kind of a nice touch to have Tim be actually surprised by the lie detector picking up his answer to the last question being a lie. Because honestly.... now it makes a little more sense: he's been lying to himself. Which is kind of an angle I didn't see coming. "I guess we do have a problem," sounds to me like he literally hasn't been able to admit to himself that he doesn't want Lucy undercover. Of course he wants her to make detective, that's not a question. Detective doesn't equal undercover. But he's been telling himself probably since day one that he's fine with it, that she's not Isabel, that he has nothing to worry about . . . and now he's finally seeing that he really is terrified. Something she's seen in him all along. And while their argument last episode was about more than just this (I still believe she was in the wrong for projecting so hard and making crazy assumptions about him), I think I can see where the writers were going with it.
THE I LOVE YOUS D E S T R O Y E D ME
Okay, back to the Looks at the wedding. Tim being all 🧍and scanning the crowd for his girl . . . Lucy delivering the Heart Eyes of the century . . . Them still sitting together because even though they're fighting, they're still each other's person, and nothing can change that . . . I'm going into cardiac arrest.
In my book, "We're gonna get through this" is a nice breath of fresh air and a bit of relief, but it doesn't mean they've worked everything out. Again, they need a good solid conversation. One that this episode was never going to give us, sadly. But it'll come!
ALSOOOO that moment when Aaron interrupts them and we see Tim's hand around her waist, I just OOF i need a moment
I AM NEVER GONNA BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS EPISODE. the foreshadowing, the parallels, the pining, the dancing, the fighting, the emotions, EVERYTHING. It was not perfect but it was WONDERFUL. 10000/10, I need to watch all their scenes about five million more times.
AND THERE WE HAVE IT. I'll definitely be posting more thoughts soon, but that's where I'm at for now. Basically I think they set the groundwork for a really solid, healthy relationship going forward. I LOVED their moments in this ep, absolutely top tier. The ANGST. I am eating up every second of it.
2 episodes down, 8 to go!!!
#the rookie#the rookie spoilers#chenford#asks#I'M SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG#I'm physically unable to be coherent at the moment#I'll maybe have to do a deep dive sometime when my thoughts settle themselves :)))#thanks for the ask!!!!!#LOL you asked for comprehensive and that's what you got xD
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In the last few days, I've made two long and rambling posts about Cowgate, a short incident from 2003 that haunts my nightmares. I think people should know that when I make posts like that - the ones that go way too long about something entirely niche - I am operating under the assumption that absolutely no one is reading this bullshit. Even the small handful of people who read this blog regularly, I assume you skip over those ones.
That's not just a hypothetical assumption, I make writing choices accordingly. I assume the only purpose of this post is to give me somewhere to put the hauntings besides my nightmares, and therefore, it doesn't matter if it's readable. I know that my whole blog is full of errors, but on posts like that, I get especially lax with things like editing. I go really deep on things where on a different post, I might think - okay, that's far enough. Because no one is reading this.
I have now been proven wrong several times about those couple of posts, which both mildly embarrasses and delights me. First of all, I got this great comment from @beastlyanachronism, which is now how I love to picture myself:
Then, the wonderful @lastweeksshirttonight proved that they'd read not only the posts but the comment, by immediately messaging me a corresponding picture. I replied that I love the image, I will definitely start my post with that image the next time a new Cowgate-based detail is found and I need to write about it. I didn't expect that to be soon, though. Breakthroughs are few and far between.
But then, I got another message, proving that at least three different people have read my post (actually four, if you count the very kind British man who read my post and then sent me a message to explain the nuances in the expression "bottle it"). And that last message is the reason for this post. Because, I can't believe I've been given cause to use this image so soon:
Further content behind the cut, because not everyone needs this content all over their feed.
This relates to the message I got last night, from the extremely helpful @linkeightvideo, who not only read my posts, but joined the cause and did his own research. And came up with this link:
The Metro cow is a thing!!! I knew the wording of that YouTube comment was weird (calling it "the Metro cow", rather than something like "a cow that said Metro on it"), suggesting that this was a specific and recognizable instillation. And I was right! But I cannot take credit for figuring that out, all credit goes to @linkeightvideo, who is the best.
The above link is to an archived version of an article from August 5, 2003, about three weeks before Cowgate occurred (which was August 26, 2003 - fun fact that has absolutely nothing to do with anything because to the best of my knowledge he wasn't there or anything, but that was also Nish Kumar's eighteenth birthday). The article is from the Edinburgh Fringe website. It's short enough so I'm just going to paste its text in full:
The Fringe was hit by a bunch of cotton-pickin', rootin-tootin' cattle ruslers in the early hours of Saturday night.
The almost life-sized, bright blue and red Metro bull was stolen from outside the Metro Fringe Box Office.
Metro newspapers are appealing for its safe return before the police are called and urge anyone with information to come forward.
Metro Fringe Box Office Manager, Gillian O'Connor said: "We're distraught to have lost such a valuable member of the Box Office team! Please bring him back."
The bull had just completed a secondment outside London's Victoria station, where he stood unmoved for a month. Yet after only a few days on duty with the Fringe he has gone missing leaving today's Festival Cavalcade a bull short of a procession.
That's it!!! That's the one! It was blue and red! I know it was blue and red, because Adam hills shouted "it's got red horns, it's all the rage". And it was almost life sized! And it said Metro on the side! Further research - also done by @linkeightvideo, he deserves all the credit in the world for this - finds that Metro sponsored the Edinburgh Fringe Festival that year, and also directly sponsored the Gilded Balloon venue.
So, the company called Metro had a large cow that was used in advertisements, and for one month in the summer of 2003, it was in London, outside Victoria Station. Then it was brought to Edinburgh, because they were sponsoring the festival and running a box office. They put it outside that box office, and it got stolen within "a few days" (which makes sense, as August 5th is a few days into the festival). It was meant to be part of the Festival Cavalcade, but couldn't be due to thieves.
Then, three weeks later, it spends all night on stage during a late-night comedy show in an Edinburgh venue that Metro sponsors, where it gets taken apart. How do we get from one state of affairs to the other? I don't know, but I'm a hell of a lot closer to understanding than I was yesterday. If the cow was somehow recovered, it would make sense from them to move it indoors, where it can be guarded better (again, credit for this idea goes to @linkeightvideo, and I think it makes sense). I mean, it can be guarded from drunk thieves in the middle of the night. Apparently the stage of the Gilded Balloon is not a good place to guard it from (shockingly) sober comedians in the middle of the night.
This made me try searching again for the specific words "Metro cow", and I found this article from December 12, 2003. It's a list of people who are involved with whatever organization this is, I'm not really clear on that. But it includes this one guy named Stephen Auckland. He's from the North of England, and as of when this was written, he was listened as the managing director of Metro. The bottom of his profile says:
An able sidekick to Associated Newspaper's Mike Anderson, even when it came to keeping up appearances following the disappearance of Mootro, Metro's cow mascot, from the Edinburgh festival. Auckland offered to dress up as a pantomime version. Luckily, they found the cow.
Guys! Guys! It has a fucking name! The Cowgate cow has a name! It's named Mootro! Now that I think about it, I actually can't believe I've never named the thing, given that I named the event (Cowgate), and giving the cow a name is the sort of thing I'd do. But I don't have to, because apparently it's named Mootro.
And the story has an update. It was stolen by August 5, and then it was found at some unknown point, and by August 26 it was in the Gilded Balloon. And then it got taken apart on stage.
I think this brings up one obvious question, which is: if this thing was important enough for its theft to be reported on the Edinburgh Fringe website, how come they were allowed to destroy it? The obvious answer would be that it was specifically made for just that one Edinburgh Festival, and was meant to be destroyed at the end of it anyway. But why did it spend a month in London right before that, then? And why would they do that anyway? Surely it's not efficient to make something like that for only a month, you'd think they'd plan to have it last a while and move it around based on where they're sponsoring things.
I can't believe this. This is the biggest revelation since I figured out who the fuck Karen Koren was, the woman referenced in Adam Hills' song, after after ages of Googling comedians named "Erin Coren" (finally worked out that she was the venue owner, which seems obvious now but it hadn't occurred to me at the time, when I was expecting it to be a reference to another performer). Actually, this is a much bigger revelation than that one, which just explained a couple of Adam Hills' lyrics. This is the biggest revelation in all the Cowgate research yet. The two main questions at the heart of the Cowgate mystery are: "Why did you do it?" and "Where did you get the cow?" And now one of those questions has been answered! It has a fucking name!
That second article referred to it specifically as the Metro "mascot". I guess a company is going to make more than one version of a mascot. But still, I don't think you're allowed to just destroy a sponsor's mascot. Maybe that mascot was at the end of its life anyway? Maybe Daniel Kitson just doesn't give a fuck? Maybe Daniel Kitson stole the cow in the first place. There's a whole new question. Who stole the cow? How did they get it back? How did it get from there to its whereabouts on August 26?
I know it wasn't on the Gilded Balloon stage every night of the 2003 Edinburgh Festival, because there's no sign of it in this montage, from Late 'n' Live on August 19, 2003 (also a fun video and great snippets of Chocolate Milk Gang history, if you can get past the second-hand embarrassment of Kitson trying his rap battle thing with an actual musician, and the presence of an actual musician makes the whole thing seem less ironic and therefore harder to watch - but you do get to see David O'Doherty beat up Jason Byrne and that's hilarious, also it's very funny to watch Daniel Kitson do something as out of character as brag about "nearly" winning a Barry Award and having a girlfriend from Australia, especially given how the latter turned out):
youtube
So it wasn't there on that night. Also, it just couldn't have been there every night. The Gilded Balloon is a proper venue that has proper shows during most of its time, it couldn't just have a large cow on stage for all of those. Also, in the beginning of that montage video from August 26, you see Kitson talking to the audience about the cow, and it sounds like he considers its presence as much of a novelty as they do. I mean, he's making fun of them for thinking it's a novelty, but he doesn't seem familiar with it, it seems like something he has to address:
youtube
This is the main reason for my theory that they didn't plan it beforehand, the montage shows the audience giving Kitson challenges for easy things to do with the cow, he asks them for more difficult challenges and then the video cuts, but I think the audience then asked him to tear it apart. It's a theory that makes sense based on some circumstantial evidence, but it does open up other questions. The main one being whether you can get permission to destroy a company's mascot between the beginning and the end of a comedy show, especially a comedy show that takes place entirely in the middle of the night. It doesn't seem likely. It also opens up some smaller questions, like what they were planning as the end of the show - the finale of the last night of Late 'n' Live, so you'd think they'd have something - that got bumped for this.
This reminds me that I had some further thoughts on the other mystery, of what actually went down on the night of August 26. I was thinking of the somewhat blue sky theory of there being two previous. Evidence for this: Adam Hills referred to "three chances", they were able to pick up chisels off the ground that seemed to just be lying around (possibly having been discarded after previous attempts), and Kitson in that video does have their air of someone who's already watched this go wrong and is really determined to make sure they get it fucking right this time. Evidence against: I'm not sure that works from a show planning perspective. What if it had worked on the first try, then what would the finale have been? If they'd watched it fail twice, would they really have made it the finale, knowing it may well fail a third time and that would be a shit ending? Though this could possibly be explained by the presence of the pipe that someone runs on stage, significantly increasing their chances compared to any attempt where that pipe was not in play.
I thought of something else today: the cow was already down when they started that video. Earlier in the night, we see comedians sitting on the cow, it's standing up. But at the end, when those guys run out to try to take it apart, they don't have to knock it down first. It's already lying on its side. They could have knock it down just before starting the song, but why would they do that? Surely knocking it down would be a fun dramatic moment, so if this were the first time they'd messed with the cow, they'd leave the knocking down to be part of the process. Unless this weren't the first time, and they had dramatically knocked it down before starting to try taking it apart, but this one done at some earlier point that the video didn't catch.
Anyway. That's the revelation. Along with some further thoughts on theories, but the main thing is the revelation. Massive breakthrough, and I need to thank @linkeightvideo one more time for research that he was under absolutely no obligation to do, but he came through anyway. What a legend. Am I using the British expressions right? What a solid gold legend.
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Impatience
(Jumin x MC) [NSFW]
.
“Are you working tomorrow?”
Jumin couldn’t help but scoff at the comment. Maybe she was joking, he couldn’t quite tell with the distance between them, but it definitely wasn’t the best jest he’d heard. “When am I not?”
He heard her giggle to herself in the bathroom, the sound of the running water being shut off with it. “You never know, sometimes you get a day off.”
“Sometimes...” Jumin slowed down as he felt his phone vibrate at his side on the bed - another email. He sighed at the thought of doing any more work before going to bed, “Those times are few and far between though, aren’t they?” He knew he shouldn’t have opened the email but suddenly he was reading a list of very detailed concerns passed through one person to another. Another sigh. He’s was going to have to deal with this now or it was going to plague his workload more than he could possibly bear.
“What’s with all the sighing?”
“I have to go and tie some things up in the office quickly.”
“No,” MC was quick to protest, her brows furrowing as she poked her head around the doorframe of the en-suite.
Jumin’s eyes were still deep in his phone. “I know I agreed to come to bed with you, my love, but I really must—” his jaw fell slightly lax at the sight of his wife, now stood in the space of the room almost glaring through him. He huffed as he sat back on their bed, his free hand massaging the bridge of his nose as he found it impossible to shift his sight. It had been a long time since she’d played this game: stealing his clothes and teasing him wordlessly. In fact, it had been some time since they’d had any real alone time. “I was going to wear that one tomorrow”
MC fiddled with one of the sleeve cuffs before rolling her eyes, not joining in with his halfhearted joke. “So, are you staying?” she questioned, beginning to climb up on the bed one knee at a time, “Or do I have the bed to myself? Again.”
Her words were nothing but harsh on his ears, brash and unforgiving, yet she continued her crawl towards him. Jumin sighed into the air between them: “Don’t make me feel guilty.”
“I’m not making you do anything, Jumin.” She was practically in his lap now, her fingers tracing his jawline through her alluring gaze. “You can run away to that little office down the hallway,” MC had leant in even closer, making it impossible for him to breathe without inhaling her own warm air, “or you could come to bed with your wife for once, hm?”`
Temptress - that was the only word Jumin could muster in the moment to describe his wife. She’d snuck her way into trapping him with so little effort, her thighs either side of his own, encasing him effectively. Their lips locked in silence, moving against each other feverishly as she chased what had been so lacking. “You’re right,” Jumin broke their kiss with care, “I can do as I wish.” His fingers began to thread upward through her hair, all the while her eyes remained focused almost solely on his lips. “And I believe I know what should be done.”
MC hummed in delight, her eye-line following the path her fingers paved now, “Uh huh, and what would that be?” She couldn’t say she’d mentally checked out of the conversation but surely she’d gotten him now - she was a woman with a successful plan and she would most definitely reap the rewards. In her trance, her nails teased around the checked waistband of his trusted pyjamas all but ready to pounce when her husband would step in.
Without a word, Jumin took a grip around both her wrists, resulting in a very unpleasant and warning glare up through his other half’s brows once more. “Something needs to be done about this work before tomorrow—” he admitted with ease, taking a stronger grip as he prepared for her backlash. “But,” his face grew closer as his voice grew quieter: “I do think, at this moment, taking care of my wife is paramount. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Ah..” MC let out a breath at once, her body relaxing from its brink of outrage.
With a smirk, he kissed her parted lips. “‘Ah’ indeed, my love. You put some thought into this; it’d be cruel to ignore that fact.” Letting go of her wrists, his hands creeped around either side of her cheeks and up into her hair; graciously guiding her further up the bed to sit upright in his lap. All the while, their mouths didn’t dare to part, sly teeth pinching at her bottom lip. With her thighs either side of his hips, Jumin’s grasp definitely wasn’t slow to find it’s way downward and have him palming at her flesh which his shirt did the favour of leaving exposed. He was working blind as he fought to keep up with the goddess latched to his lips and his hand worked up the space, god was she even wearing anything under his cotton press?
MC whined fruitfully into his mouth, prompting another smirk. He could feel the firm pressure of the pads of her fingers edging their way up the nape of his neck and into his freshly trimmed hair, though this feeling was second to her hips grinding so desperately down on him. With a particularly lewd moan, he pulled away, almost laughing at how quickly she’d come apart following her prior annoyance. “We’re lacking in patience tonight, my love.” Jumin’s lips trailed to her jaw, then her neck where he’d nip for an illicit a gasp. “I don’t feel we’ll be here long. Will we, beautiful?”
MC couldn’t possibly contain her groans as Jumin’s lips wreaked havoc on her neck: lips, teeth and tongue bruising her skin with care. Her fingers weaved through strands of his dark hair, drawing him closer. “Good,” she breathed: “then you can make time for both your wife and work.” With a particularly hard bite, she moaned a gasp.
Jumin then pulled away, a low chuckle leaving his stomach as his gaze met her’s once again. “I walked straight into that, didn’t I?”
“Definitely.” MC nodded impatiently, her hands and eyes locked onto the buttons of her husband’s shirt encasing her chest. Though, she didn’t make it past the first before Jumin’s hands were wrapped around her wrists again.
“Leave it on.”
“But–”
“I don’t care,” he cut off her whining with that stern tone he was so comfortable with, “you put in the effort to steal it so don’t you dare discard it. And, my darling, you look so very delectable in my clothes.”
A curse passed MC’s lips at his words, her eyes a flutter as she was powerless to prevent him from laying her flat on the bed. One of his hands laid under her waist, the other guiding her thigh to one side to make space for himself, and his lips devouring the moans from beneath him. “You know,” Jumin began another mumble as his lips roamed once more to the crook of her neck, “I’d much rather… you chose a shirt I was less fond of.” He wasn’t expecting a coherent response, nor would he get one. Relentless fingers continued to message at the supple flesh of MC’s inner thighs, silently roaming their way closer and closer to what she craved. “It will be… incredibly difficult to wear the shirt again… I will only be able to think about my wife like this.” And an answer to his question - she had so tastefully opted for nothing under the shirt. Jumin rose to watch her shudder as his fingers ghosted over her, her hands flinching slightly to grasp at the bedding with a single trace of her clit. “Do you understand, my love?”
MC finally met his eyes again, half-lidded as her chest rose and fell with great desperation. What was he saying? Of course, she had become his distraction yet again. “Mm…” she raised a hand to brush away the stray hairs beginning to stick to her husband’s forehead. “You’re saying I’m—” With a guttural moan she had cut herself off, the unannounced insertion of Jumin’s fingers sending her eyes rolling into her skull.
“A harlot.” He took it upon himself to finish the sentence for his beloved. In a need to be closer, he moved to whisper directly to her ear - his lips grazing the hot skin while his fingers rocked away out of sight. “I’m sorry, I just can’t help myself when it comes to your beautiful temptations.” He could only hear a symphony of moans and gasps. “You know I’d give in to you every single time, my love.”
She whined frivolously, one hand clawing at his toned back and the other scrunching their sheets into thousands of creases. If her own grinding down to meet him wasn’t enough to lose all thought of her surroundings, the addition of his thumb rubbing rhythmic circles most definitely was. She needed to be fucked by him, she thought, but there was absolutely no hope she’d be able to hold out that long. “Jumin… please!” and so the mindless begging began.
“What is it, darling?” He questioned, lifting himself to see that wonderful twisted expression he was so effortlessly causing.
“Please!” MC cried, her neck now strained like her fingers crushing it’s trapped cotton.
“Shall I guess?” Jumin teased, maliciously increasing the pressure of his touch. In an instant, her back had arched and he continued his ruse: “You’re desperately close… You’d like my help to finish, correct?”
“Yes!” Their eyes met for barely a second before MC was writhing again. Her muscles tensed with a great, slurry of whines and she was helpless to keep her legs still. Jumin thanked his arm had not grown fatigued as he felt her end nearing and heard the sweet sound of incoherent begging, pleasure and love. “I’m- I’m… Jumin-”
“Just go ahead, sweetheart.” A small chaste kiss was all that could be managed before her back arched once more and moans streamed endlessly from her barely conscious mind.
She lay, panting for a minute, before Jumin concluded she was back with him. He removed his fingers and gently as humanly possible and watching the remanent shivers wash over his wife. “You ok?” He spoke softly, his clean hand brushing over her flushed cheek.
Silently, she smiled, her once clawed hands smoothing over his toned chest before she could lean up to return his kiss. “Perfect, my love. Perfect.” She jittered in her spot on the bed, though her expression dare not to falter and worry her husband. “I’ll wait for you.”
Jumin sighed, his brows furrowing at her suggestion. “You know I don’t like leaving you after: it’s improper.”
“I know.” MC moved for her thumb to barely graze his own cheek, the feeling a frail as how she looked before him. “But I’m giving you permission… So thirty minutes to go finish your work and then we may go to bed together.”
Had she not had the most reassuring smile Jumin wouldn’t dare listen to her suggestion. Still his concern was audible: “Do you need any help? Anything?”
“No,” she hushed him effortlessly: “Go ahead and I’ll be waiting.”
Jumin stroked her cheek once more, prompting a different type of flush from the one previously faded. “You’ll be asleep in five,” he laughed sincerely.
“I will not!”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Jumin.”
#mystic messenger#mysme#jumin x mc#jumin han#mystic messenger jumin#mysme jumin#mc mystic messenger#mc mysme#mystic messenger drabble#mysme drabble#mystic messeger headcanon#this was sat in drafts incomplete for years
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thoughts on peggy carter
i think my biggest issue with peggy carter is marvel is trying to push agendas and pander to audiences as a cop out for formulating a dynamic character. it's obvious she's supposed to be a feminist icon. that's totally cool. i appreciated that as a kid, since i was sick of women being portrayed as weak. the way i see it, peggy suffers from weak portrayal, not portrayal that she's weak.
--
before the peggy fans comment/reblog, "omg not another stucky blog posting peggy hate. leave her alone!!" i don't hate peggy, I just want a clearer picture of who she is. i enjoyed her in the mcu but i wish marvel would've given her justice within the writing. this isn't hate for hayley atwell either. she did really good in her acting, enough so i watched more movies with her in it intentionally.
--
peggy always read to me as a half-developed side character -- no matter if she's the main character. my one of my biggest complaints is that she seems to have little to no motive. motive is what drives people and your main character having consistently unclear motives is sloppy writing.
helping steve? sure, she's his commanding officer and she seemed to like him.
"win the war"? well sure, that was a lot of other people's motives in ww2. why did she even join the war anyways? what convinced her to sign up? she didn't have to, she could've done other work. what was so compelling about the war to her?
for the what if episode: why'd she choose to take the super serum?
my point here is: there are too many points where one questions why she did ___ that could have been better defined (esp in the what if series).
--
marvel can make her much more interesting (and to me appealing) character by not putting her in comparison to steve. they would be forced to solidify her character instead of wimping out and saying "well she's the love interest." I'm not saying that she can't have both a relationship and be a strong woman - many women have/are both. however, when your entire personality depends on your relationship to one person, it's not very healthy or wise.
the concept of marvel pushing for steve and peggy's relationship is fine, that's how romance novels are made. but the lax follow-through on character development removes my interest for the ship. how good romance novels bring interest to each character is by establishing them. they also used peggy as way to pander for chris evans himself - she was an easy way to get steve rogers out of upcoming plot lines. (side note: chris evans is totally justified in not wanting to work for marvel anymore, they just should've handled his character's ending less sloppily)
as for the ship - i would see more value in the steve x peggy ship if i could tell what type of person peggy is. especially when you take away steve. i see value and interest in steve and bucky because, even though bucky was made as a sidekick to steve, he has a strong character. would i want to see him even more fleshed out? yeah, ofc. would i say he's more fleshed out than peggy? yes, because in one movie you can tell who bucky is and why he's doing things. i see why people ship steve and peggy, and I see why people ship steve and bucky. both stances are valid.
i haven't seen it yet nor i do know if i will watch it due to personal time and budget constraints, but i hope that the agent carter series strengthens her character.
ultimately, peggy is the victim of poor and sexist writing.
(note:: this is my personal opinion & analysis, based on the first two cap movies and the what if series. im not speaking for anyone but myself. if you feel like her character is rich enough and you're satisfied by her portrayals, that's great, I just wanted to share my stance. again, i don't hate peggy, I just want a clearer picture of who she is and why she does what she does)
#text#my text#analysis#peggy carter#captain carter#steve rogers#captain america#captain america meta#fanfic meta#stevepeggy#steggy#steve x peggy#stucky
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day 22- Collars with Bucky Barnes
915 words
18+ only! NO MINOR INTERACTIONS
kinktober masterlist
A/N: this took a turn i didn't expect, buuuuut i like very much. So i let you discover the King of the underworld and his loves.
TW: demon and succubus. Dom/sub (Bucky = master, Reader =mistress), collars wearing to show possession. P in v, and other stuff inside mouth and up the a**... and yes, a baby stevie (imagine him as preserum !steve)
not beta read, english is not my first language, all mistakes are my own
ENJOY
Cloudy
Don't be shy to comment, reblog or like! :)
It was the night…the night, where it was going to happen. You and Steve were eager, a bit anxious but more eager than anything.
“It’s tonight… Y/N, it’s tonight”, happily jumps your demon friend.
“I know”, you smile at him and look at yourself in the mirror. You were a pretty succubus and your duo with Stevie, the demon didn’t go unnoticed to the man himself…the king of the underworld Bucky Barnes.
You already submit to him in the past. And, well, you were impatient do to it for eternity. Steve kisses your neck and hugs you from behind. “He choosed us, from all, it’s us”
“I know, it’s amazing…”
“And I hope not a surprise, my loves”, says the king, entering your chambers. Steve holds you tighter, making your feel his arousal. You look at him, the king, your king…
“I would have been really sad if you had chosen someone else than us, Master.”
He’s behind you, so much bigger than Steve and you, he envelops you in his arms. The warmth of him engulf you and you can’t stop the little moan. Bucky smiles and tightens his hold, Stevie whimpers and you know…that Bucky is hard too, you see it on his face.
“I want you both on your knees, hands on your lap”, he commands softly. He kisses you both, he slipped tongue, toying with yours and you relax, wanting more of him. Steve is flustered after his kiss, and you know…you just know that Bucky played with his mind.
You get on your knees and rest your hands on your lap. Steve does the same, his cock straightening his pants.
“Now, my loves, you get your presents, the symbols that will tell everybody that you are mine… and that I’m yours.”, his voice is deeper than usual. He’s eager too, he wants to pass the rite to directly goes to the festivities…fuck you both to oblivion. You want that too, so you enter his mind and send him memories of your past time together. Bucky growls when he saw the image of you riding him, while your tail fucks Steve ass and Bucky is sucking the poor demon’s cock. Steve whimpers beside you, wanting to have it again.
“Enough, my little minx. We have a procedure here… the fun is almost here I promise”, he growls, making Steve whimpers even more. The poor baby is a goner when his king growls.
You nod and wink, making him chuckle. The union starts, the lights are dim, the air is stick and the collars appear and big dark red for you and dark blue for Steve. The collars fly to your neck.
“Now, my loves, you’re mine forever. And I’m yours too”, a ring appears, with a moon and a star on it, he wears it on his pinkie finger.
“Can we fuck now?” asks Steve eagerly. You and Bucky laugh, making him blush. “What, I can’t send you dirty images…you kept doing it. Both of you.”
You go closer to Steve and hugs his side “Sorry baby.” Bucky his beside him too, stroking his hair. “Yeah, sorry little bird.”
You kiss him, a three-way kiss that makes Steve lax between the two of you. “Can we do it again?” he whispers. “Want mistress tail up my ass and master mouth on my cock.”
Bucky claps his finger and you all naked and, on the bed, Steve his already in position and Bucky slides under him. “Tonight, you and Y/N are controlling. It’s my gift”
You huff. “Like I don’t control both of you with a glimpse of my tits”.
They laugh and say together “true”.
You get into position, rubbing your core against Bucky. Your king groans and holds your hips. Steve hovers his face and guide his tip to his mouth. “Yes, my boys”, you murmur. Your tail caresses Steve’s backside and he trembles with anticipation. The end of it brushes his backhole and he thrusts his dick inside Bucky mouth, while you sink on his cock. And the beautiful chorus of your moans echoes in the room.
With a bit of magic, you expend the size of your tail and Steve slowly fucks himself, thrusting in and out of Bucky mouth. The king’s hands are tight on your hips, and you rock teasingly, making him grown.
Bucky plays with his magic too and force you to bounce on him, so you force steve to get deeper into his mouth, making the King of the underworld gags and you smile proudly.
You little minx.
“Oi, I’m not, I’m controlling, remember?”, you laugh softly and moan when bucky makes his fat dick, fatter. “Okay, you can have a bit of control too”. With that said, he thrusts into you hard and fast, you hold on Steve and you moan loudly, your tail taking the same pace as Bucky.
Steve is the first to cum. Flopping on his side when you set him free, Bucky rolls so he’s on top and takes your legs to put them on his chest and he fucks you relentlessly. “FUCK BUCKY!”
You cum one, then twice and with the third one, Bucky follows and you all tangled. Bucky rolls again on his bag and keeps you there, his dick still inside your pussy, he opens an arm to let steve joins the cuddle and he kisses him softly, then you, then you kiss steve.
“I love you my loves”, says the king of the underworld, your king.
taglist : @navybrat817 @christywantspizza @buckyalpine @iloveprettyboysblog @ethreal-love @nailedbymandy @captainsimagines @buckybarnesandmarvel @rogersandlightwood @sparkledfirecracker @barneswinterraven @hansensgirl @blades-and-heartbreak @runa-falls @chrisdrysdale
#kinktober#cloudy&bellaskinktober#kinktober22#kinktober 2022#stucky x reader smut#stucky x female reader#mcu smut#mcu au#marvel au#marvel smut#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#steve rogers x bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x steve#pre serum steve#pre serum stucky#dom!reader#dom!bucky#sub!steve rogers#sub!steve x dom!reader#demon!steve#succubus!reader#devil!bucky#king of the underworld
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YHMR Ch. 18 drop!
This one gets very mildly NSFW, so, don't read it at work I guess idk. Enjoy!
Editing done by @kamikazequail, and commentary under the cut!
As always feel free to comment, I'm constantly fiending for feedback.
-Jamil: Decides to worry less about something for once in his life. The universe: "Oh, bitch…"
- But yeahhh I imagine him as the type to get stabby when he's startled. In case that wasn't apparent yet.
-You may have wondered what the point of that whole tangent about spatial compression pockets five chapters ago was for. It was literally for this moment. I need Jamil to have a knife on him at all times, can't picture him not doing that, and I needed a way for him to not get caught with it ("But a magic school would be prepared for students to have access to things like that and would have security measures against hidden contraband items-" NRC is so fucking lax. students try to murder each other all the time. Everyone always goes 'nooo it's against the rules to use magic in a fight!' and then they do it anyway, and staff never gives a shit -and that's for the canon highschool version. Universities, by nature, give even less fucks. If there was a stabbing on campus, Crowey would only pay attention if it became a publicity issue. I think the staff would actually encourage hidden pockets if it means they gain plausible deniability for knowing what the students are up to). Aaand when I realized I was gonna be writing this scene, I needed to be able to mention the knife without having to stop and explain where it came from or why he has it. So yeah, there it is, Checkov's magic wristband of holding. He'd keep it hidden under his PE wristband
- ….Jamil finally has someone willingly following his orders. Of course that's immediately gonna go to his head
-What's that? Jamil giggling happily for the first time in his life because his crush maimed someone in his honor? Sometimes "perfect for each other" involves both parties being incredibly unwholesome.
-Aaand finally, Jamil realizes he's a monsterfucker
-Yeah btw, eels have to move their bodies side-to-side to swim, and I figure that any mermaids who swim that way would need side musculature similar to abs, which would look…. unique. I guess. So yeah the tweels would have fucked up torsos. And you need a decent understanding of anatomy to consistently win knife fights, so Jamil would definitely notice. (also the lateral line sensory organ in fish runs down the sides, so, idk. it'd be a sensitive area is what I'm saying) (yeahhh I've always been really into marine biology, and tbh I never thought this is how I'd end up applying the knowledge, but here we are.)
-Poor Ace. I actually like Ace, he's just chronically unfortunate. I dunno if it's out of character for him to be tryna help out, but I think he has a genuine nice streak.
-Aaand yeah, Floyd grew up with very different ideas surrounding leadership and respect than Jamil, and he's not particularly keen on someone he respects having to follow the orders of a guy who'd never survive in the mafia
-So, I realize that it's been confirmed in canon that the mermen need potions to transform back and forth, and I'm choosing to ignore it. Thank you for your understanding.
-The eels in the little mermaid are always tangled around each other and everything, and I think that's really cute, so the tweels are gonna be in constant contact too
#yhmr update#yhmr#you'll have me rise you'll have me fall fic#octaviper#flojami#floyd x jamil#floyd/jamil
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Ok so this doesn’t need to be 100% like the request but similar
Can you do a Princess in the Mirror fanfic where MC is tired of people telling her to “act more like a princess?” So she decides “fuck it” and starts to act as much as a princess as she possibly can and pretty much does what Faris does and fakes her entire personality in public. Then when people start commenting on how she isn’t acting herself she’s like “I’m just doing what everyone has been telling me to do 😊”
Heck, even the king is slightly unsettled by this change
You can make this go however you want
Please and thank you ♡
Just What You Wanted
Fandom: Princess In The Mirror (Otome)
Featured Characters: Most of the major characters but focused on the Princess
Genre: Semi-angsty psychology
Rating: occasional language and thematic elements
Description: The Princess is finally ready to admit that being in this new world isn’t a dream - and she’s ready to become the monarch everyone is pushing her to be… And more.
A/N: Ohhh anon, this is so deeply satisfying~ 😈👿 It’s how I had to frame my mc to be able to read through the story. Hopefully the tone conveys the overall feeling of, well, satisfaction. (Also fuck the king very much)
Warnings: | angst | political slavery | mentions of abuse culture |
I lay in bed, exhausted and sobbing at the end of another horrible day from the longest week of my life. The voices of so many people trying to make me do what they want go through my head.
‘Straighten up! You look like a gnarled, hunchbacked old woman.’
‘Come now, Princess, don’t I deserve a smile?’
‘You are expected to produce an heir as soon as possible to prevent the people from being more unsettled.’
‘Don’t look away from the duke like that! You refuse to engage with people now, but you’re going to have to.’
So many voices trying to make me accept that this isn’t a dream, a coma. That this is real.
So many faces in the palace and on the streets looking up to me with fear and hope.
So many people that I desperately disagree with.
…So many ways I can imagine changing things.
My daydreams have turned away from tv shows and hoping for someone at work to ask me out. My every thought has been consumed by politics and psycho-analyzation of strangers in a strange world.
A country that they are forcing me to take care of.
I sit up, all of my rage coalescing into a crystalline-sharp form.
And something snaps inside me.
Looking around this room, the moonlight gently illuminating the space, I take in every detail. Every fold of the fabric, every carved niche in the bedframe, the chill in the air.
I can’t run anymore. I know the truth. This is real.
And the people here are real. Their pain, their fears, their hopes and loves - they are real.
And they are not being properly protected by the people in this god forsaken building.
The emotions of fear and self-pity melt away all at once. I get up and go to the letter writing desk, lighting a candle and pulling out the neglected diary in its drawer.
I’m amazed by how quickly it fills - not with pouting, self centred emotions, but with ideas for action, borne of rage as much as hope.
~~~
When the knock at the door sounds, it is accompanied by a horrible scraping sound.
“Um, Princess? What’s going on?” Simeon calls out.
I rise and walk to the door, moving the chair away from under the handles.
“Ah, there is our lovely Princess’s face…” He trails off when he sees my expression. Behind him, Flora and Mary peek around to meet my eye.
“Things are going to change,” I announce firmly. “Starting today.”
Stepping aside to open the door wider, I begin with the new orders.
“No one is to open my chamber door without explicit, verbal permission. Mr. Simeon, I want to see other quarters that may have a more appropriate layout - namely a reception room before the actual bedroom. Captain Zell, come in as well.”
The four people file into my room, looking apprehensive.
“Captain Zell, security is far too lax. I require a full escort at all times. We will discuss the details later. Simeon, I need to know what my personal budget is, and who do I speak with about it. Flora and Mary, bring me whoever is making all of these clothes. Production stops immediately until I have made my own arrangements with them. I will not have so much work and money go into more dresses that make me feel like a haunted baby doll. I also require self defence lessons and a map of the castle.”
All of them stare at me with shock. It is Zell who finally speaks up.
“Princess… What has come over you?”
I put on a smile - one of the first that I actually mean. “I tried to ignore reality. But no more. Starting now, I make the rules.”
My expression softens into something more remorseful. “I have failed to even ask you about yourselves. I intend to correct the mistakes of my selfishness immediately. But in the meantime, you all have your orders. While I get dressed, please repeat them back to me so I know there have been no miscommunications.”
After a moment of stunned silence, they jump into action. While they list their instructions, a knock comes to the open door.
“You idiot. A note on my door isn’t enough to excuse…” Vincent finally registers all of the people in my room. “What’s going on here?”
I throw a smile his way as Mary hastily finishes my hairdo.
“Ah, master Vincent. We need to talk. Everyone else except Flora and Zell are excused.”
They exchange looks as the crowd thins, and I turn to my tutor. “Mr. Vincent. Starting now, I want every word of communication you make to me to be purposeful, specific, and useful. Together we will learn how to set aside emotion in favour of developing strategy and working to solve problems, rather than just complaining about them.” His eyes are wide as he stares at me. “Have I left any room for misunderstanding?”
“…No, Princess.”
This is actually kind of fun. “Good. Thank you. I spent some time prioritising what I need to learn. We will focus more on those topics for now. I am certain you will agree; there is no reason to delay learning the most critical information and skills. I must attend breakfast, so let us get going.”
“Oh, but first.” I turn to Flora and hold out my notebook. “Ms Flora, are you able to write?”
She nods, looking at me like I’ve been replaced by an alien. “Yes, Princess.”
I offer her a genuine smile. “Excellent! May I ask you to be my note taker? My mind has been going a mile a minute and I can not permit forgetting anything at all.”
“A-as you wish.”
“Thank you so much.”
As we parade out of my quarters, already something comes to mind. “Ah, Flora. Starting a list on page twenty six, add ‘labour laws’ and below it ‘military and essential service labour laws’.”
Beside our footsteps and the scratch of a pencil on paper, my entourage is absolutely silent.
Once out into a grander hall, I remember something. “Say, Mr Vincent, what is this kind of roof called? This rounding at what would be the corners of the walls?”
“I… actually don’t know. I am less versed in architecture.”
“Ah. I remember seeing a t- I mean, a program where they said that shape helps with temperature regulation throughout a space. I’ve always enjoyed architecture, and would like to study it. Can you arrange such lessons in another month or two?”
I hear footsteps coming towards us, and as we found the corner, the four noble sons cross our path.
“A woman wanting to study architecture? Absurd,” Luca scoffs.
I offer him a smile filled with venom. “I disagree. Lord Savini, I will ask of you what I asked of another this morning - You waste your own mental and emotional energy as well as mine with your senseless complaining. Either propose a way to fix the problem and be useful, or be silent. This is an order.”
The men stare at me in the same utter shock as the group before.
He furrows his brow and practically snarls at me. “What do you think you’re doing? You are in no place to scold me when there is so much you can’t do, pajama broad.”
Falco tries to step between us, but I hold up a finger to stop him.
I remain calm, clasping my hands behind my back. “You are trying to deflect by showing aggressive physical behaviour meant to make me submit in fear. I condemn this learned instinct.” His eyes grow wide, and I can see the slightest tilt of his head in confusion.
“Now, there is at least as much that I am ignorant of as you are. I cannot claim omnipotence any more than you can. So, Luca Savini, let us learn and rise up together.”
I smile at him, and the tension in the air snaps when Simeon sighs.
“Look at our Princess! I wonder if it is her red undergarments that have given her such courage today.”
I turn on him, my smile falling. He swallows hard. I let the silence stretch for moment to make him and everyone else focus on this moment.
Just as he takes a breath to speak, I raise a hand to stop him.
“Mr Simeon. You need to understand that your joking enables and reinforces a culture of rampant abuse, violence, and murder.” The blood drains from his face. “You, intentionally or not, embolden people to accept objectification and you subjugate unwilling women to appease your selfish whims. You make it harder for women to say no because ‘it’s just a joke’.”
I take a deep breath. “From this moment onward, you are forbidden from contributing to a culture of fear and selfishness. Do you understand?”
The man looks like he’s about to be sick. He drops to his knees. “…I never thought about it that way. I cannot begin to apologise enough, Princess. Please forgive me.”
I meet his eye. “It is not for me to forgive. Flora? ‘Survivor’s bill of rights. Witness protection program. Safe houses. Prison reform.’”
With a sigh, I turn back to the stunned noblemen. “Let’s get to breakfast, shall we?”
When Farris asks, “What happened to you?” I reply simply this time.
“I woke up.”
We file into the dining hall, and I wait in the doorway until the room turns to look at me. Joseph is the first to catch on. He stands at his place, gesturing to the others to do the same. Slowly, all of the noblemen and the two women in the room slowly get to their feet.
Satisfied, I offer them a smile and incline my head before going to take my place at the king’s side.
“Good morning, uncle.”
He stares at me with surprise and suspicion. “What’s gotten into you this morning?”
I smile at him, hoping it doesn’t come across as menacing. “I know what I need to do to serve this country. No more wasting time.”
As soon as our plates have been brought in, I look down the table and address the Minister of Foodstuffs. I ask for his tutelage, followed by the Minister of Defence and Trade.
The king huffs a quiet sound of approval. “I’m glad to see you taking things seriously.”
This smile I don’t bother to edit much of the sheer loathing from. “You inspired me, uncle.”
His eyes widen at first. “Mm. Well, I’d like to discuss with you then how your search for a husband is going.”
“Oh? Good. There is much to discuss.”
After the room and table have cleared, the king holds me back.
“We will talk here.”
“Very well.” Clasping my hands behind my back again, I stand tall and summon an aura of authority. “Shall I relay to you my current assessment of the four noblemen in question?”
“Yes. Do.”
I smile and go through the list quickly.
“Lord Luca is a dangerously ignorant narcissist. I would not trust him to feed my cat, let alone with a country’s military.
“Lord Farris is unwell. His trauma, whatever it may be, has manifested classic symptoms of self preservation that make me uncertain whether he would ever be trustworthy.
“Lord Falco seems to be, and I say this with full acknowledgement of my own lacking, less intelligent than me. Which is a critical requirement for my co-ruler to possess.
“Lord Joseph is nice, but he lacks persuasion skills, command, and drive. Again, it is a matter of them having the skills that I do not.
“And so, I cannot in good conscience allow control of the country to belong to any of them.”
The king blinks a few times before scowling mightily. “They are all the options you have.”
I reply quickly. “Then we need a greater saturation of people who have the education and skills so that the people are not trapped being governed by someone unsuitable. Do you disagree that they deserve the best?”
He slams his hands on the table. “You don’t know what you are talking about! That is not the way things are!”
I shoot him the most professional death glare possible.
“That is not what I asked.”
This makes him pause, his breath catching visibly. His face is turning red. “You will do what is necessary to follow my orders.”
A smile naturally finds its way to my lips. “I will do what is necessary for the protection of the people’s lives and futures. Please understand, uncle. I am not some bitch on a chain for you to order and tug about - to breed as you please.”
I say the next part slowly.
“You trap me here, offering me a crown and a country. I accept. Know that it is a woman prepared to become a Queen that you are dealing with.”
He stares at me in utter shock, for once speechless.
I put on another smile. “Are you not pleased? You wanted me to accept this life of slavery you forced me into. So I accept a life of service - to the people of Kristein.
I’ve never felt so powerful as I lay down the law for this bastard.
“I accept the responsibility of holding corruption accountable. I accept the responsibility of securing a safe and reliable future - and that is not guaranteed through a system that relies on sexual and child slavery to function. I accept the responsibility to choose a trustworthy and competent co-ruler. Your options are insufficient. Another will have to be chosen. Such is my responsibility.”
He looks at me like I’m some sort of demon. And I chuckle, sighing contentedly.
“Isn’t this just what you wanted?”
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thank you for the long response! it was geniunely a very interesting read!! also i did not want to imply that you have to 100% like something or else drop it, that was not my intention (/_;)/~~ i just wanted to know what were the pros that outweighed the cons for you to continue the game!! i definitely have my own rant about the persona 5, as much as i love it.
i'm someone who has sunk hundreds of hours (i think about 400) into persona 5 royal, i have played the original as well and,,,,, i don't remember every bit of it as i got much more into royal, but your response definitely dug up some memories of my own gripes with the game as it was then. i bought strikers once i had a switch!! i was super excited to see ryuji and the rest of the gang again, but due to life stuff and me generally not being a fan of button smashers/combo games, i only got like 3 hours into it before i left it alone. also the lack of akechi was disheartening since after royal giving him more story i was wanting /still want more of him as royal, while not fully fixing his confidant, still improved majorly on his character in my opinion. but i trust your judgment, so do you have any tips to get back into strikers? it's really the gameplay that sticks out like a sore thumb to me, i'm not very dexterous with a controler and i get the hang of things quite slowly,,,, but again, thank you geniunely for responding so kindly and elaborating!! (*^ω^)
You are welcome 😊 I try to give the botd for questions like this, bc I have seen and received some very silly comments wrt to complaints of this game (and others people hold in high regard). Not that I am happy to see that you remembered some gripes w a game you liked, but it is easy to become a bit rosetinted about media you enjoy, and its good to go back and say ‘hey actually, theres some stuff i DO wish couldve been changed to make the experience better.’ At least u were polite about asking lmao
I think I am going to have the same problem I had before, so im going to preemptively put my strikers tips under the cut to stop it from bloating up dashboards 😭
I am aware that the warriors style gameplay is not for everyone; its very repetitive by its nature and it can be really bad on the hands if youre not used to it, so I unfortunately dont have a suggestion for making the combat portion of the game easier. But I am halfway through a ng+ of that game, so I at least have tips on how to make the combat less confusing, and how to spend less time on the actual combat itself.
Stick to one character and ignore literally anyone else in the beginning. I am so serious about this. The upgrades you get for ranking up teammates is used to enhance their combos, and that can be confusing in the beginning of the game. I had to fall back onto normal difficulty until i got the hang of everyones combos, so i suggest you do the same.
The ai for your teammates is surprisingly well done, and they will target enemy weaknesses and heal you before you NEED to be healed, which is always better than them simply forgetting to do so. They buff often, but they are a bit lax about debuffing without manual input (ann has Tarunda as a spell AND as a combo finisher, but she refuses to do either unless its targeting a tough enemy). You should prioritize builds that buff your entire team (so the competent team ai rips enemies to shreds) and debuffing enemies.
Combos are almost entirely optional if youre willing to jump in and out of Jails to replenish SP constantly. Spam spells, and switch teammates to spam their spells as well, then leave the Jail and return. Unlike the mainline games, leaving the metaverse does not pass time; only hitting important plot points like getting to the treasure and fighting the jailer counts towards progressing time, so you should abuse it as often as possible.
Due to [REDACTED] spoilers, you WILL need to at least master or understand three characters and their movesets. I obviously suggest Akira as one, but pick two more characters that work well with your playstyle. Ryuji was personally the easiest to understand; hes resistant to flinching, and his finishers are ‘hold X to kill everything around you’. Haru has a wide aoe for her combo finishers, letting her spin and shred through enemies or spam her grenade launcher infinitely. She has the added benefit of gaining more armor and reduced flinching during her hold finishers, so shes good for fighting bosses.
DONT fight those super hard burning enemies. They arent worth it 😭😭 you need to be at least 3-4 jails deep before u can even fight the one in shibuya jail 😭😭 theyre very easy to avoid, so just shimmy past them or ignore the area theyre in outright.
If you focus on understanding Akira, know that each persona has a unique set of finishers (yes, literally each one). If you are thinking of learning combos instead of just spamming spells, I suggest learning the pattern for executing his combos before focusing on what the finishers actually do. From there, you can test out finishers for each persona, and decide which ones are worth keeping based on that. I will say though, that the finishers kinda dont mean anything until you get to the end game, where high leveled personas will have spells like Concentrate or Debilitate as Finishers; but always know that a finisher spell is ALWAYS a spell that you can just as easily cast with SP. Dont make the game more stressful or complicated than you need it to be.
(As an addon, if you can understand Akiras moveset, then learning the other ones will be WAY easier since they are all virtually the same. The only thing you need to memorize is exactly what spell is used on their finishers; it took me forever to realize that Yusukes last finisher is…a combo enhancer…that makes his finishers last forever… and you would NOT know that unless u started learning his moveset since his ai never uses it)
If youre someone who wants to farm and level up to gain access to more personas, you should find the strong enemies around a map instead of constantly reclearing the entire jail. Unlike the mainline games, enemies do not respawn after leaving a floor; you gotta leave the jail and come back to make them respawn. If you are okay w the repetition, it is easier to memorize the spawns of strong enemies (not the minibosses that are burning) and beat them up for good exp and money, esp since all spawns are static. Silky in the Shibuya jail is the first one that comes to mind, since Ann is able to stunlock her w Agis, AND she spawns very close to one of the checkpoints (its before the underground section of shibuya but i cannot remember the name of it) making it easy to jump in and jump out to replenish SP, and continue farming.
And finally, despite what I just said, dont take the bosses of this game too seriously. They arent easy but they are absolutely doable without insane builds and optimization. Bosses have aids in the form of interactables of their respective weaknesses (Shibuya has party poppers with wind affinitiy thats eventually used on the boss to stun them.) Stock up on healing personas, Stock up on Items from Sophias shop, and target weaknesses whenever you can to force an allout attack as fast as possible. The combat can be overwhelming, but at the end of the day, the combat is really just ‘run around from attacks and spam spells or combos until the thing dies’. I hope that helps a little bit, and if push comes to shove, i will always recommend watching a playthrough instead of fighting through a game that feels like a slog to get through. Most of the story comes from the cutscenes and city interactions, so you arent missing much by watching someone beat up shadows for u lol and bc i genuinely LOVE the characters they introduce, its worth it to learn about them.
It sucks that Goro isnt in the game, but it was made prior to Royal iirc (the japanese release was the only one available for some time). I will say though, the themes of this game fit him so perfectly, and if youre of the mind to speculate and make aus, then you will be joining me in the obsession of making Goro interactions w the team. Palaces were about corrupted peoples desires distorting the world around them, and they were always someone so reprehensible, you were not intended to sympathize w them and even debate if what the thieves were doing was wrong. But Jails serve an entirely different purpose, and the end result is having Rulers with depth to them, and the overarching theme of ‘if you fuck up your life and others over the decisions you thought were correct, can you recover?’ And the answer is always ‘yes. No matter what, you can always start over if you intend to do better and be better’, and I think thats a good reason to see the entire story through :)
#chattin#p5s#its an essay im SORRY#but i like this game and i like giving reviews and advice for the games i like#i want people to enjoy it; but i do NOT want people to waste money yknow?#anyways this was nice. i like talking about all aspects of this game#i am so aware of how monotonous this game can be combatwise#and i try to emphasize that its fun for me BECAUSE of the grind; i played warframe and destiny for years; i am so used to it#and theres some things i picked up from playing these games so often that may not be easy to pick up for some players#thinking of my sister who is NOT used to those kinds of games and figuring out how to help her#like if anon was my sister instead how would i tell her how to make the game easier ?#i wish it had an accessibility feature to let u auto input combos but alas#devs and companies dont really think of those things#also EDIT. i looked up the release dates#and scramble (strikers) released in japan in feb 2020 while royal came out in mar 2020#scramble released worldwide in 2021 which is a year before i actually bought it#insane its been in my library for TWO years before i played it#so dont let ur dreams be dreams anon; i also waited forever to play this game lol
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OK I've been meaning to ask this for a while: why 'forest pennies' as a Túrin + Beleg tag? What do pennies have to do with them?
Okay so one time in a conversation I called Túrin a "forest puppy" because Beleg finding him in the woods and bringing him to one of the marchwarden lodges reminded me of someone finding a stray dog and bringing it home so they can decide whether they’re going to keep it or not. This led to me calling both of them forest puppies for a few months. But then one day my friend sent me a variation of that “finally I can keep these pennies to myself” meme, commenting that I’m the voiceover, Beleg and Túrin are the pennies, and the “I smell pennies” cryptid is the ship-happy people in the fandom. So “forest puppies” and “I smell pennies” got merged together into “forest pennies”. Thanks for asking about it, actually...I was wondering if anyone was confused by that tag and now I’ve had an excuse to explain it. Here are some forest pennies getting patched up after a rough day of orc-hunting.
(By the way, for those who might not know why I personally don’t subscribe to the general lax view of fandom shipping, there’s another paragraph under the cut so that those who want to read it can and those who don’t want to read it don’t have to see it.)
The reason I don’t ship non-canon ships (or even think about the canon ones very often) is that since I don’t experience sexual attraction myself. As a result, Tolkien’s platonic friendships are especially meaningful to me (one might even say they’re...precious...ba-dum-tss) and it bums me out to see that so few others appreciate the value--or even acknowledge the existence--of hecka strong platonic love. I’m only alive today because someone loved me enough, non-sexually, to keep me that way. Of course I’m not “out to get” the people who choose to ship the platonic relationships for fun or for whatever other purpose, of course I’m not. You all can do whatever you want. But I would be lying if I said it doesn’t hurt a little bit to have the highest form of love I can experience dropped by the wayside in favor of “they only care about each other because they want to bang”, especially when the version that speaks to me is the canon one which people are deliberately revising.
And now that I’ve filled my quota of vulnerability for the day, here’s another drawing to lighten the mood.
Darn elves and their physics-defying plot armor.
(^Túrin, probably)
#beleg#túrin#the man the myth the legends#three shinies#everyone deserved better except mîm#don't mind me#yo somebody talked to me#heck yeah bromance#forest pennies#/end classification tags#one of the other conveniences of using ''pennies'' is that it is something that i use ONLY for these two characters#but it can be modified for many of my aus#sea pennies#space pennies#western pennies#but if i used puppies then we might wonder if i was referring to some other characters#since that's a more common word#anyway yeah#i sat down to do these drawings yesterday so i could put this reply into the queue and i was like#''oh it's beleg and túrin this is going to be so quick''#it was not quick#the first drawing took more than an hour beginning to end#rip me#at least the second one didn't take that long#(to be fair though there IS some difference in the amount of detail between the two)#and i'm at least 50% happy with how they turned out so that's cool
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Im so fucking lucky my graphic tablets been rendered unusable by my stupid fucking laptops operating system because pretty people in skirts are one of my Top Weaknesses and i wouodve fucking considered NOT ONLY DRAWING IT but possibly attempting to fucking animate that shit (the hat throw too, becayse YES I HAVE UNFORTUNATELY READ THAT POST) and i absolutely DESPISE animating i am absolutely TERRIBLE at it
LISTEN SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU LITTLE SHIT at least like,, only one of them has ever been at my actual flat,, and i only ever made or bought food or otherwise financially or materially supported like,,, half of them,, and only ever played therapist and Adult To Come To™ for like 25 of them,, they mainly just see me on the street and ask me to play with them or stay with them for a bit or whatever anyway now that i think of it depending on how lax our definition of unofficial adoption is i might have like 5 to 10 more but i dont think those count if theyre in a different country and ive completely lost any way of communicating with them,,, right,,? Actually no do Not answer that
YOU DO NOT GET TO COME IN HERE AND BRIBE ME WITH A FUCKING FIC SO I DONT FAIL MY CLASS GODDAMN IT KEDREEVA
Anyway so i know just about NOTHING about the shop except for like 5 mentioms of it in fics but i do have Thoughts on the interpersonal relationship that robin and steve appear to exhibit and i absolutely fully declare that they EMANATE platonic soulmates vibes (maybe qp even if anyones feeling generous just sayin) anyway they are so fucking stupid and they are so fucking smart and they both have one braincell but they can only use it for the other person like one of them only gets to use their braincell if its in place of the others braincell using it for said persons benefit (robin maybe gets tk use half of hers for herself the rest od the time steve only gets a quarter) anyway they strike me as both so very codependent but also very much capable of taking care of themselves but yk yk like thoughts like wheres the line between codependence and relying on another so much simply because they are so Close to you emotionally that they are kind of a part of you anyway is there even a line is there a line and like just idk mate theyre such dumbasses (esp steve) and steve is such a fucking lost puppy (part of why he end up with a full litter of pups ig)
Anyway i do not know much about hopper but i was really rooting for him in this ine fukcing fic where steves parents are being abusive shitheads and hopper gets him thr fuck outta there and him and wayne lowkey fight over custody of steve for a split second but then i found out hes a cop so i was instantly like ehhhh yk what maybe lets not put so much faith in him right away and then i was checking out that cws last night befire watching out of curiosity (NO IS TILL HAVENT SEEN ANY OF IT I GOT DISTRACTED BY AO3 AGAIN TILL 4 AM) and a commenter said that hes a bit of a dipshit to eleven at some point so like hmm mixed feelings dont know enough (ie dont know shit) abiut canon to have any opinions i could back up with aby sort of argument on him specifically
AND YES I DO KNOW WHO DMITRI IS AND I HAVE ONLY SEEN HIS NAME ONCE IN YOUR DAMNED POST KEDREEVA
I know a teeny tiny bit about the russians doing some fucked up shit at some point in the series and steve and robin getting tortured or something (because there was this scebe in this one fic where steve would constantly sneak in through the windoe and sleep eith robin in her bed after that debacle cause neither could sleep or something alomg the lines of that it was SOFT ok it was H/C OK but anyeay ive got NO clue who that fucker really is i imagine him as eithe some average stereotypically russian looking man or like fucking dartagnan but like that twink version of hik dont ask me whats going on in my brain but as i said THOUGHTS and OPINIONS™ (which i am so very unqualified to give)
ALSO I JSUT NOTICED THE FUCKING TAG YOU USED FOR THE ASKS TOU FUXK YOU FUCKER YOU MOTHERFUCKER THATS VERY SWEET YOU FUCKKING FUCKER
And apologies for the novek length ask (hope tumblr doesnt eat it cayse it usually eats any long asks i try to send) and the immense amount of misspellings but i have been outside in the cold for about 5 hours in a thin leather jacket so my fingers are kinda freezing and its also drizzling so ohone slippery
I cannot believe your computer's operating system hates me, specifically, like this. The hat throw is essential I'll have you know. Like he actually really loves the outfit except for that!! fucking!!! hat!!!
I think it's sweeeeeeet! You adopted many children because you are kind and good to them!! You are loved by small innocent beings that recognize you will help them!!
I am justified in offering any bribe I want, tyvm! It's on you if you want to accept it after doing well. I will be proud of you finishing such a big task either way!
Steve and Robin are definitely platonic soulmates! If you watch nothing else of the show, you simply MUST see the bathroom floor scene between them, you will cry over them with the rest of us. I can also advise you see the scene where they're tied up in the Russian holding room, lying on the floor confessing things to each other. Breaks my heart. I love them so much. They deserve cuddles. They DID totally get captured by Russians but I think you're missing the important part. They got captured because they were down in that base on ACCIDENT. Dustin got them into this mess, with help from Robin, and Erica. Steve was practically just along for the ride. And then the Russians CAUGHT THEM wandering around the base, and Steve took 1 look at the situation, decided that not all of them were going to make it, SOMEONE had to get caught and it sure as hell wasn't going to be His Children, so he purposely stayed behind. And when he called out to Robin, because he knew he couldn't hold the door the Russians were trying to get through by himself long enough, Robin (who you MUST understand, she is brand new, she's known Steve for like... a month, she's known Dustin for a day or two, she's known Erica for a few hours, she doesn't even KNOW about the Otherworld Shenanigans yet, as far as she knows this is just about commies in the basement) takes one look at Steve, at Dustin and Erica, and she bolts to his side knowing full well she's gonna get captured, too. But they are gonna make sure the kids don't. together.
Hopper is COMPLICATED. He's an asshole, no mincing that. He was a child soldier, or close to it, who was experimented on w/ chemical warfare bullshit that ensured his military-group companions either couldn't have kids or their kids were messed up and died as babies. Hopper fell in love and had a child, a little girl, who died when she was little (five or six-ish?), and it broke him, and him breaking also broke his relationship with his wife. Over the course of the show you get to witness that he desperately, desperately, just wants Family (and by god, who does THAT sound like) and to make sure no kids are ever harmed if he can help it. He was serving as chief of police because he didn't really know what else to do with himself, and then The Horrors happened and he realized oh fuck my mission in life is to protect El (and what that looks like varies, because what he WANTS and what he is CAPABLE of doing are separated by a canyon at times, he is a disaster of a human being but he's trying and they love each other even when they're screaming at each other) and make sure none of these dumbasses get hurt around her. And then he goes and falls in love with the mom that loves her kids more than life. Like, don't get me wrong he's still a dick. He's just also full to the brim with love. And they killed him in season 3, but he's fine now.
Dmitri, my beloved. he was the prison guard that was trying to save Hopper and help him escape the russian prison he'd ended up in due to nonsense.
I went and personally grabbed this screenshot from my own copies of the show, just so I could show you his smile upon realizing that Hopper starting a fight w/ him so they could beat the shit out of each other was actually NOT because he hates Dmitri, but so that he could grab things off the guards that separated them, so they could use those things to fight monsters with together. Oh!!! They are still friends!!!
anyway I want them to have upside down shenanigans instead of russian prison shenanigans. they deserve to fight each other and monsters. I want married couple bickering. I want them to hate each other for a while, but band together to fight off worse threats, but fall back to fighting each other after. I want... one of them to be injured and the other has to take care of them because they don't wanna be alone. "I'm the only one that can kill you, dickhead."
I'm sorry I didn't get to this sooner, I went and did responsible things like write my nanowrimo story and tend my birds and clean some stuff. But you gave me smiles all day, and I appreciate that, you are lovely <3
#Anon asks#asks#stranger things#Anon (Delightful)#buckington besties#Jim Hopper#dmitri antonov#dash stretcher
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