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aot-brainrot · 3 years

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Spartacus ~ Hotchniss x Reader

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Dom/sub relationships, Sir kink, Mistress kink, dirty talk, oral (male receiving), restraints (handcuffs), edging, orgasm control, orgasm denial, degradation, mild choking, minimal in-chapter aftercare, though it is alluded to happening afterwards. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, the team refers to them as female when saying “good girl”, “princess”, etc.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy) x Emily Prentiss. (polyamorous triad).

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Aaron had been tense all week. Between work, wrangling Jack, and then still having to find the time and energy to show some attention to me and Emily, it was completely wearing him out. On Friday night, when they had come home from work, I offered to make dinner for us while they went to shower and change into comfortable clothes. After dinner, Emily took Jack up to bed and tucked him in for the night, meanwhile, I sent Hotch up to bed. I didn’t want either of them to have to put any work into anything this weekend— especially Hotch. He deserved a break. I mean, we all did, but he did the most out of the three of us, and I could tell that it was really getting to him. So, my plan was to keep them in bed, or at least the house, for as long as I could. It started with making sure that he went upstairs while I cleaned the dishes and the kitchen.

As I was finishing up, I heard Emily coming down the stairs. I turned, my hands covered in soapy water, pointing back to the stairs, insisting that she let me do this on my own. For once, I just wanted to do something for them and not have one of them argue about it or pull the Dom card in order to make sure I wasn’t alone. Just this once. I wanted to make this weekend about them. That wasn’t too much to ask, right? Yeah, well, Emily didn’t seem to get the memo, because even though I practically ordered her to go back upstairs, she only grinned and then joined me at the sink. She didn’t help me, to be fair. She wrapped her arms around me, rested her chin on my shoulder, and she started nibbling on my earlobe as she watched me wash all of the dishes one by one.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, too.”

Her hands started wandering, making me tense up and freeze. “Don’t stop.” So, that was how it was going to be. I finally got around to doing chores, and her game was to distract me. What would Aaron say? Truth be told, he’d be proud of me, however, he would scold Emily for getting me worked up on purpose so that I would abandon the task of cleaning up the kitchen. “The sooner you finish, the sooner we can go upstairs.”

“We can’t tonight. He’s tired.”

“No, he’s just stressed. But you know what helps with stress…” Her hand made its way between my thighs, her palm pressing against my clit until I let out a gasp. “I said, don’t stop.” I started washing the dishes faster. “Good girl.” She put her fingers over my clothed clit now in order to add more stimulation, but still not enough to get me anywhere close to the edge. It was barely enough to just tell me that I needed her. “I think I might know a way to make Sir relax… Do you want to know my idea?” I nodded. “Answer me.” Her other hand grabbed my cheeks roughly.

“Yes, Mistress.”

She released my face. “I think that if we teamed up against him, he wouldn’t be able to stop us from finally topping him. I’ve always wanted to, but he’s too damn stubborn about it. But together…” She chuckled wickedly in my ear. “He’d be our little mess.”

I whined slightly in response to her words. I could just picture Aaron writhing underneath us as we pinned and fucked him. Fuck. “He wouldn’t like that.”

“No?”

“No, Mistress.”

“Why not?”

“Because I would be breaking about a thousand rules.”

“Not if we both take the heat for it.” Her fingers pressed harder. “It’s like Spartacus. He can’t punish the both of us.”

Jack’s plastic cup clattered in the sink when I dropped it in order to grab onto the counter and hunch forward. “Fuck.”

“Does that feel too good, baby?” she teased, pulling her hand away from me. I rolled my hips back against her, a silent plea for more, but she didn’t give in. “What do you think about my idea?”

I was literally too fucked to think about anything. Up, down, left, right— none of it mattered until I felt her touch again. If it meant giving into her terrible plan that would only end up with both of us getting punished— something she was sure wouldn’t happen— I would do it just to encourage her to put her hands on me. So, I nodded. “I like it, Mistress.” I left the rest of the dishes for the morning. I turned to face her. “As long as we really do it together. No giving into whatever he says or does.”

Emily grinned. “That’s it, baby girl.” She held my face steady with her index finger and thumb on my chin so that she could kiss me roughly. When I started leaning into her, kissing her back with even more eagerness and excitement, she pulled away. “Come on.” She grabbed my hand before leading me through the house. “Play it smooth. Get into bed with him and try cuddling close enough so that you can grab his hands when I give the signal.”

“What’s the signal?”

“When I come out of the bathroom, I’ll lean over to kiss him, which will distract him. That’s the signal. Just pin his hands and I’ll do the rest.” We approached the second floor of the house. I stopped, tugging at her hand slightly to warn her that I wasn’t taking another step yet. “What is it?” she asked, worried.

I searched her eyes. “I just really fucking love you.”

Her smile returned. “I love you, too.”

With that out of the way, Emily continued to lead me, walking us down the hallway and to our bedroom. As we walked in, she released my hand so that she could go to the bathroom and I could close the door. Aaron was reading a book on our bed. I thought he would have been trying to fall asleep already considering I thought he was exhausted, but Emily told me that she didn’t think he was tired at all, and this was proving it. My hope was that he was still somewhat tired. If he was off his game enough, it would make my job of pinning him down only that much easier. If I failed to do the one thing Emily had tasked me with, this whole mutiny thing was going to come back to bite us in the ass, which I really didn’t need when the whole point was to help Aaron relax for a bit. Losing control did that. The best part about being submissive was that I could just turn off my mind and leave everything up to Emily and Aaron. While Emily was a switch between being a Dom for me and a submissive to Aaron, he was strictly a Dominant, which probably took a toll on him. Considering the week he had, he probably just needed to turn off his mind. I knew all too well what that felt like.

I crawled into bed with him. He released the book with one hand so that he could drape it around me when he realized that I was going to cuddle against his side and under his arm. He was wearing his pajamas now. The soft touch of his navy blue sleep shirt rubbed against my cheek as I laid down and nuzzled against him, feeling how warm and tense he was. He rested his hand on my hip. As I laid there, my chest pressed against his side, the two of us tangled in each other’s arms, I debated how I was going to handle grabbing his hands. He was hardly sitting up, enough room between his head and the headboard for me to hold his wrists above him; but the real question was how the fuck was I going to get them there? His hands were on me and his book, which meant that I was going to have to contort in some ridiculous way in order to grab both of them while gaining the upper hand to ensure that he wouldn’t be able to escape.

And then I heard the bathroom door open. Well, it was now or never. I craned my neck slightly to get a look at Emily who was walking out of the bathroom, now dressed in only her lingerie, and her hair had been teased a bit. I suddenly understood just how far she was going to make sure that Aaron would be distracted enough to make catching him off guard easy, and also that she wanted to make it very clear to him that even though I was in on this little plan of hers, she would be the one to take all of the blame for this if he ever decided to punish us for this.

“What’s that for?” Aaron asked, peeking up at her through his lashes.

Emily shrugged nonchalantly as she made her way towards the bed, and then crawled on until she was straddling his thighs. “It got too hot.”

He chuckled. “I’m sure.”

I started running my hands over his chest. I could feel his abs flexing in response to the sensitive and unexpected touch. Emily looked at me briefly. “Aren’t you hot, baby?” she pouted, leaning forward to kiss him. He set his book to the side. Just as she dodged his lips at the very last second, she leaned back, and I raced to reach for both of his hands and pin them over his head.

Aaron’s eyes widened. “What the fuck—” Emily cut him off by kissing away his words. He moaned slightly. She barely pulled away from him, but she adjusted so that her weight on his thighs was forcing him to hold still. He tugged against my hold, but I was sitting up now, which gave me a little more strength than he had— though he was naturally strong because of how much he worked out. “Stop it,” he commanded us both with a growled. Emily shook her head and bit her lip. “Fucking brat—” He let out a loud moan when Emily passed her palm over his length that was growing hard in his flannel pajama pants. His head was thrown back against the pillow now, giving his eyesight a clear shot to me, allowing me to see the mix of anger and pleasure that was brewing in his iris’. “Y/N, stop this.”

I looked at Emily. She reassured me with a nod. “Sorry, Sir,” I apologized while shifting on the bed until I was above him, my calves sitting on his wrists to hold him down. I blushed at Emily. “Did I do well, Mistress?”

“You did so well, baby girl.” She pulled me in for a kiss.

Aaron struggled beneath us. “I swear to god, the two of you are going to regret this—”

“Shh…” Emily cooed to him. “We just want to make you feel good, baby.”

“Sir,” he corrected through gritted teeth.

“Not right now.”

“What did you just say to me?”

Emily passed her palm over him again. “I said not right now, baby. We’ve got the upper hand here, not you.”

Aaron looked up at me. “I’ll make you a deal. Both of you. If you stop this now, I won’t punish you later.”

“Not a chance.”

But I wasn’t so sure. The deal itself sounded enticing. I mean, we hadn’t gone too far yet, and we hadn’t really done enough to deserve any kind of punishment. Okay, maybe we deserved a few spanks— but that was it, and I could live with that. However, if Emily and I decided to proceed, things would be nice for a while like a calm before the storm since it would be pleasurable for all of us, but the second we were caught off guard, too, Aaron was going to get us back for whatever we would inevitably do to him. But I promised Emily that we would do this together. I made her promise that we wouldn’t give into anything he would say or do. That included deals. If she wasn’t going to give into her tricks, then neither was I, as skeptical as I was.

“Sorry, Sir,” I said again, this time with a teasing grin.

“Fine,” he groaned, rolling his hips in response to the way that Emily was playing with him. “Fine… Then, whatever Emily does to me, Y/N, just know that I’ll punish you for it.”

I froze. “What? That’s not fair.”

He grinned. “Then, you better get her to stop….” he trailed off when she reached into his pants and grabbed ahold of his erection. “Fuck—”

I felt his hands knead my thighs since that was just about as far as he could move, and since he wasn’t going to get out of it, he must have figured that the least he could do was play with me. It worked. The slightest touch set me off, making me feel the throbbing and heat growing between my legs. In fact, it was impossible to not notice it, because every time Emily did something to Aaron, his grip hardened on me, making me practically fall forward until Emily caught me. With one hand, Em was holding my chin to keep me upright, but her other hand was incredibly preoccupied with slowly teasing every inch of Aaron’s cock, twitching in her palm in response to the slow, sensitive, and calculated movements she was making. It was barely enough. Just like downstairs when she was teasing me, she hardly did enough to just get him worked up. But the way he was squirming under me was a tell that he loved it.

Emily kissed my cheek. “Touch yourself, baby girl.”

“Don’t fucking think about it,” Aaron hissed under me.

“It’s okay,” she cooed in my ear.

Well, shit. On one hand, she had just given me permission to the one thing I wanted most— which she knew would still prove to be a task considering I was still wearing all of my clothes, and my legs were a little preoccupied with holding Aaron down. But, on the other hand, Aaron was not having it. The second I’d lean back ever so slightly to listen to Emily’s command, I’d be setting myself up to get punished later. Eh. C'est la vie, right?

So, I reclined, resting my back against the headboard, making sure that my calves (practically my knees, at this point) were still trapping Aaron. As I snuck my fingers past the waistband of my pants and underwear, I hissed and bucked my hips. Emily smirked. The second my fingers made contact with my clit, I let my head fall back against the wall and my eyes screwed shut as a moan fell from my lips. Emily had made me so wet downstairs. I hadn’t really noticed the full extent of it until I was there, rubbing it around the sensitive nub that was begging for more attention so that I could inevitably cum. I gripped Aaron’s hair with my free hand.

“Don’t cum yet, baby. There’s no fun in that,” Emily said.

I pouted while looking at her. She was working faster on Aaron’s length now, even going as far as to shifting around on the bed so that she could lick his tip ever so slowly. He thrashed.

“Em, stop,” he begged lightly.

“Aw,” she sulked sarcastically on his behalf, following it up with a wicked chuckle. “Does that feel good?” He nodded his head and bucked up into her hand. Emily immediately pulled her touch away, tsking her tongue at his disobedience, but still admiring the way his cock twitched and stood at attention naturally. “Do you think he deserves to cum?” she asked me. I couldn’t seem to respond because all of my focus had shifted onto the way I was getting close to my orgasm, and I was worried that with the way my legs were shaking, Aaron could potentially take advantage of that weakness in order to get out of this. Emily wasn’t having it, though. “Answer me, slut,” she demanded, slapping my thigh.

I shook my head. “No, Mistress. He doesn’t deserve it.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Aaron growled lightly in response to the way we were talking about him like he wasn’t even in the room, which was demeaning on its own, but then to add discussing his orgasm denial on top of that… well… maybe we just shouldn’t let him out of this. Ever. It was safer that way in the long run. Still, when Emily lowered her mouth onto him, it shocked me when he grabbed my thighs as hard as he could. I whimpered. I was getting really close. The closer my peak got, the faster I went, racing towards my own orgasm that I had been so desperate for ever since Emily put her hands on me downstairs. I tightened my grip in Aaron’s hair.

“Mistr—” I moaned while rolling my hips. “Mistress…” I was a panting, breathless, moaning mess; and neither of them had even done anything else to me yet. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like when they would finally put their hands on me and put in this same amount of effort— if not more, actually. “May I cum, please?”

“Cum,” she quickly answered after releasing Aaron from her mouth.

I let out gasps and curses as I tipped over the edge. My walls contracted around nothing, the empty feeling plainly obvious to me in that moment, but it didn’t deter me from pushing through my powerful orgasm. I let out a quiet, almost helpless scream, “Thank you, Mistress—”

And then the unexpected happened. Actually, you know what, I should have seen it coming. I suspected earlier that this could present to be a problem later on down the road, but I didn’t think it would be so quick, and I didn’t think that it would be so vicious. One minute, I was falling apart, my whole body giving out in response to my orgasm washing through me, the next thing I knew, Aaron had used my weakness and his strength against me in order to throw me off balance, giving him the chance to flip me over onto the bed, his hands on my thighs holding me so that I didn’t go flying and so that I couldn’t escape. Suddenly, he had one hand on my neck, the other one found Emily’s neck. She paused, eyes wide. I gulped. This was exactly what I had been afraid of. We thought that by teaming up, he would be outnumbered, and with how stressed he was, maybe he would give into our game; but that wasn’t Aaron Hotchner’s style. We should have known. The second an opportunity to switch control had arisen, he took it. I barely even felt my orgasm fade away because I was a little more concerned with his hold that was increasing pressure around my neck.

Aaron pulled Emily around like a rag doll, forcing her to lay down next to me on the bed. We both clawed at his hands, but it didn’t seem to matter, because he wasn’t going to let us go, no matter how much we struggled, because we had refused to let him go only moments ago, no matter how hard he struggled. Touche.

“I warned you,” he said to me.

“Sir—”

“No, no, no. You don’t get to talk. Neither of you do.”

I whimpered and kicked uselessly against the bed. Spartacus. That was the example Emily used downstairs. She said that if we stuck together, there was no way he could choose one to punish over the other— but what she failed to remember was that he had zero qualms with the idea of punishing us both simultaneously or at different points. Telling by the way he was pinning us by our necks, I was going to assume that the time for reckoning had already come, and that meant that we were absolutely fucked; meanwhile, he would get off on whatever torture he had in store for us.

He squeezed our necks until both of our breaths hitched. “Don’t move. Understood?” We both nodded as far as we could, considering his hold. “Good.” He released us roughly. Both Emily and I gasped for breath. As we shivered and coughed away the feeling of his thumb digging into our skin, Aaron shimmied around until he was able to grab ahold of my pants and yank them down my legs. And then went the panties. “Strip each other the rest of the way,” he demanded while getting off the bed. “Now.” He headed into the closet, probably grabbing the black box, if I had to guess.

Emily and I turned to each other. My eyes searched hers for a moment, fear running through both of us— but it was still a good fear that had us excited for what was going to come. Though, maybe we shouldn’t have been too excited. But I just had to ignore what Aaron was doing in the closet so that I could steady my shaky hands and reach out for the clasp of Emily’s lingerie bra. She moved her hair out of the way so that it was easier for me to do while completing the task blindly. She leaned in to kiss me quickly. I melted for a moment just as the clasp came undone, and I inched closer to her, letting her roll over me and pin me down on the bed. Our ankles played with each other as she continued to kiss me roughly and simultaneously slide her bra off her shoulders.

“My— My shirt…” I mumbled against her. We still had to finish stripping each other before Aaron could get back. She pulled away from me just enough so that I could sit up and after she was finished with peeling my shirt off, I could help her wiggle out of her panties. She pushed me back against the mattress the second we were nude. My fingers slid into her hair and twisted into a gentle grip. “He didn’t want us to move.”

“We’re already in trouble. What’s the harm?”

The faster we moved, the more obvious the shaking bed was, encouraging Hotch to come back to find us breaking basically every rule we had. There he was, holding the black box, visibly pissed off. Emily and I didn’t stop. She kept me right where I was, encouraging me to keep touching her and to let her slide her knee between my legs so that I could hump her thigh. When he slammed the black box down on the bed, that was when we finally pulled away-- more like jumped away, to be fair.

“You really wanna help them get off, huh?” Hotch asked, pulling Emily off of me. “Fine.” He tied Emily’s hands behind her back with ease, even though she was trying to fight against him. “Open.” I watched as he gripped her jaw and stuffed her panties into her mouth. She finally stopped fighting-- just long enough for her to pout up at him, begging for mercy in this whole situation, but he wasn’t going to be that nice. “Such a brat.” He spanked her. “How about you?” he asked me, grabbing another length of rope and coming around the bed. “Will you be good for me now?”

I nodded urgently. “Yes, Sir. I promise.”

He pushed me on my side so that he could tie my hands behind my back, too. “Good girl...” He wasn’t as rough with me when he put my panties in my mouth. “The two of you thought it would be so funny to fuck with me. Is it funny now?” Neither of us said anything as we watched him grab a hitachi wand and another length of rope from the box. “I don’t tolerate Y/N being a brat. Ever. You...” he cooed as he hit Emily’s ass again, “I expect it from you, but not my bunny. You’re just a bad influence, I think... A bad influence that needs to be taught a lesson. A lesson about not corrupting my good bunny.”

Hotch worked the toy between me and Emily while ordering us to move as close to each other as possible. I whimpered. I was so close to her, yet with our mouths full and our hands tied, there was no way to touch each other. I hated it. But that was Hotch’s point, I knew that.

“I’m keeping you two like this for at least an hour. The first one to cum goes on no-touch for a week.”

My eyes widened and I looked at him. He knew that I was more sensitive than Emily. She could hold her orgasms back longer and better than I could! That was his other point, though, and I knew that by reminding myself that he was punishing me for everything Em did to him. Fuck.

“Good luck.”

Once the rope was wrapped around mine and Emily’s hips, ensuring that we would stay close, holding the toy in place between us, he turned it on. I jolted and moaned. For some reason, it was tilted in my direction, hitting right against my clit while Emily hardly got everything. Hotch realized what was happening, but he didn’t move it. All he did was tease by telling me that if I didn’t want to cum before her, I needed to figure out a way to make her cum first. So, I cried and rested my head against Emily’s shoulder as I started grinding around, trying to move the toy to face her instead, but all it did was stimulate me further. At least I got it to budge. Now it was against both of us, and she was trying to push it back my way. The friction of our bodies was too much. Everything from the kitchen downstairs to Emily letting me cum a few minutes ago to the alluring thought of trying to make the other cum for Hotch’s game was... it was overwhelming. The more I struggled, the closer I got to my orgasm. I just couldn’t hold it. Emily was so much better at it than I was, and I hated her for that.

“Aw, bunny...” Hotch cooed while laughing. “You’re already close, aren’t you?” He sat at the foot of the bed and kneaded my thigh with his large hand. I nodded helplessly. “Don’t hold back for me, baby. Go on. Cum. Everything you give me today will be the last you get until next week. Don’t you wanna feel good for me?” I nodded again. “Then, cum.”

I cried into my panties and shook against Emily as I came. She kept fighting to move the toy towards me-- not for the sake of the game anymore, but because she wanted to see me struggle more. Very Dom of her.

One orgasm came after another. The more I fought to take the toy away, the worse the overstimulation got, and at some point, I couldn’t even fight back anymore. The toy had found a perfect spot between me and Emily, so as I painfully came again and again, Emily finally tipped over the edge, too; all while Hotch was watching and smirking. He was so proud of himself. He liked watching his subs squirm with pain and pleasure, unable to escape his torture. I shouldn’t have listened to Emily. I knew that this was all a bad idea-- I warned her that something like this would happen, but... but I gave in... and now I couldn’t breathe.

It wasn’t until the end of the hour, when I was crying and shaking, that Hotch finally took pity on me. He reached between me and Emily, and he turned off the toy, letting us both brew there in our sweat, cum, and tears. He didn’t untie us, though. He was letting us catch our breath and cuddle while tied and helpless, and that was amusing for him. It wasn’t for us. We couldn’t protest, however, so we waited, and I stared at Emily with a look that said: “I’m never listening to you again.”

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zalrb · 2 years

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OK here's the thing about Lyla and Tim.

In Spartacus, there's another best friend falls in love with the girlfriend/wife storyline

which I also thought was ridiculous and underdeveloped but at least in the episode before they have sex (I mean they don't really "have" sex, they were forced to have intercourse by their masters) there are cues of Melitta and Gannicus having some kind of connection

Lyla and Tim don’t have any of this, like it’s not even like we see how the two of them can’t stand each other but put up with each other because they both love Jason, they’re only together when Jason is there and even then they don’t interact. When Tim has his “Texas Forever” speech, he doesn’t consider Lyla at all, it’s all about Street

even when Lyla is like “um, hello?” when Tim says he’ll keep the ranch stocked with ladies, he doesn’t acknowledge her at all, he doesn’t make a joke, he doesn’t tell her to settle down, he just keeps talking like she didn’t say anything.

Like with Spartacus, when the three of them are together, they’re all in the conversation

so when they do have sex and then end up enjoying it and then Gannicus is in love with her and she’s sort of in love with him too, I still have my problems with it because it’s dumb, but I understand it more than Lyla crying and then hitting Tim which leads to kissing him as some sort of catharsis or escape?

HOW IS THAT EITHER OF THOSE THINGS WHEN HE’S JASON’S BEST FRIEND? That doesn’t work for me.

And then Tim being like

LIKE WHY? There was NOTHING there before. You just made fun of her for being Christian like twice and then had a fucked up kiss where she’s yelling about Jason never walking again and you being too scared to visit him in the hospital. THIS DOESN’T MAKE SENSE even in a “it’s about emotion not logic” way, it just does not work for me.

Anyway. This is still one of the weakest if not weakest plot points of FNL for me. YES, EVEN IN THE CONTEXT OF THE MURDER PLOT LINE.

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elenatria · 3 years

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Comrades! You need, NEED, to watch the movie “Radioactive”. Apart from Rosamund Pike being amazing and the film being directed by a woman, Marjane Satrapi, the film is not only a great story about a great woman BUT, since she and her husband basically discovered radiations, in the movie are shown also short scenes of the consequences of their discoveries: a boy with cancer cured by a new radiation machine in the 50s, the first atomic bomb on Japan at the end of the II War, Americans in the 60s doing nuclear test in the desert and laughing at how realistic the the mannequins and the buildings in the explosion zone are while people pay 50 cents to sit there with sunglasses and watch the atomic bomb explode, AND OF COURSE CHERNOBYL: I recognized it even before the subtitle came out because we see a young and scared but heroic firefighter entering a burning building and helping out men dressed in white with strange hat (the fucking hats, comrades). Later in the movie we see Marie Curie having sort of dreams/nightmares/visions in which she sees her dead loved ones but also the different consequences of her work: the kid fighting chancer thanks to a new therapy based on her discoveries, a Japanes man in a hospital after the Hiroshima explosion and finally she walks to another hospital chamber where she sees a young man in a bed and it’s the young Chernobyl firefighter. She sits next to him, takes his hand and kisses his forehead and the boy, despite having his face burnt by radiations, smiles at her. Maybe not the best movie of the year but it’s a must see in my humble opinion.

Thanks a lot for finally making me sit my ass down and watch this movie.

It’s remarkable in many ways. Not only was it directed by the great Marjan Satrapi (and who doesn’t like Rosamund Pike in roles of strong independent women) but also its music is dreamlike as well as nightmarish and very fitting of the film’s subject matter. If radiation was beautiful electronic music, it would sound like this soundtrack.

Strangely enough the male characters, even if they’re forced to stay in the background, are not complete puppets paving the way for Marie’s brilliance. They’re supportive but flawed, likeable without being too mushy, or forcefully annoying like we’ve seen in many recent “feminist” films. Instead of screaming “MALE PRIVILEGE!!1″ all the time like in most American movies, they’re silently entitled, like in real life.

The “nice men” in the story are such feminists that they clear the table while their wives have scientific conversations..

… or hand them napkins while the women explain Uranium’s chemical reactions.

Beware, for the hurt in these men’s eyes is real.

If I were a tad more cynical I’d call it a feminist-retconning chick flick but the movie is too good for that.

It also gives us some great lines.

Marie: “An instinct is not a particularly scientific reason.”

Pierre: “No, but it’s still a reason.”

Frankly, I find the dialogues and the whole script quite lively. A breath of fresh air. Even when they’re bickering “like an old married couple”, Marie and Pierre sound brilliant.

The film also has beautiful “encyclopedic” illustrations like uranium here.

More scientific/poetic imagery, like young Marie forming the atom with berries in her basket…

… or radioactivity presented as a dancer bathed in an eerie green glow.

Thankfully, Marie and Pierre’s flirtation is not cringey at all. When he proposes to her, she kisses him.

Pierre: “You’re not selfish. You’re just… self-absorbed.”

(why thank you, Pierre, didn’t know this movie talks about moi )

More of those “omg did I ghost write this?” moments.

(”when”, not “what”, apologies for crappy subs)

Yeah, me too.

And yes, the movie almost feels like a distant relative to HBO’s Chernobyl, like The Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them to Chernobyl’s Harry Potter.

For instance, Pierre gets his “Boris moment” as he coughs blood into his handkerchief, minutes before he receives their Nobel prize.

Marie gets her Spartacus/”You will do it because it must be done” moment when women in the audience give her a standing ovation as she receives her second Nobel prize.

The juxtaposition between Pierre’s acceptance speech (”Radiation is both useful and extremely dangerous if it falls in the wrong hands, but MOSTLY USEFUL”) and the drop of Enola Gay is beautiful and haunting.

And ooooh, there it is (hey, did someone steal the Renck Bros’ font?).

Btw, Marie Curie died of aplastic anemia, guess you remember that one, huh.

And if you’re still wondering why everyone looks familiar in this film, like, Chernobyl- familiar, I’ll give you a clue.

Marie’s sister, Bronia Sklodowska, is played by Sian Brooke.

Yes, THAT Sian Brooke.

Marie’s Mother is played by Georgina Rich.

Come on, GEORGINA RICH?

Last but not least, Marie’s fellow scientist, Paul Langevin, is played by Aneurin Barnard…

… who was in Dunkirk…

… with our boy Barry.

Talking about “Six degrees of Chernobyl”, huh.

#chernobyl #radioactive #rosamund pike #sam riley #marie curie #pierre curie #hiroshima #sian brooke #georgina rich #river #aneurin barnard #dunkirk #barry keoghan #pavel #six degrees of Chernobyl #submission #stellan skarsgard #jared harris

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hasspartacusdoneanythingwrong · 3 years

Text

The Century War of Wyverns, Part 2: Chase the French Soldier

[Previous] [Contents] [Next]

Kat: Our first encounters in a strange new land! It... doesn't go well tbh, but I'm sure the next one will!

Cris: Turns out Spartacus doesn't understand "the back of your blade" very well.

Jeanne: {CWs for violence against humans, death, first-person panic attack}

------

God dammit, how the hell can that mountain of muscle move so fast? We barely got a word in edgewise and he’s already left us in the dust! If we don’t get there in time those soldiers are gonna be a big red smear on the ground. One more hill, and… he’s just… standing there, having a conversation with them? He gestured towards the one in the gaudiest uniform before walking over.

Spartacus: Placet expectare.

Spartacus: Ah master, there you are! I have glorious news! These soldiers are themselves fighting against the oppression of a false king! Of course, a true king is also oppressive in its own way, but still! Their leader even speaks latin! Roughly.

French General: C'est ton géant ?

Kat: <Ooh, ooh! I got this! Time for all that duolingo to do its thing!>

April (Kat): Bonjour, garcon!

I internally rolled my eyes as the soldier blanched.

Cris: <Kat. Garcon means boy. Let’s try something else.>

April (Cris): (Hey, Mash, do you know French? Mine’s a little rusty.)

Mash: (Sorry master, I barely know enough to say hello.)

April (Jeanne): (Well, English is a common lingua franca, might as well try that, right?)

Cris: <Good idea!>

Mash: Wait, that’s-

April (Cris): Sorry about that, tried to be polite, don’t actually know that much French. The big guy’s with us, and we were hoping you… could… Ah, fuck.

The soldiers had already surrounded us. Cries of “L’Anglais!” erupted around us as they pointed their spears in our direction.

Mash: The French are at war with England in this time period!

April (Cris): I gathered, yeah.

Spartacus: So now they seek to oppress us as well?

Mash: What are your orders, master?

April (Cris): Take them down but try not to kill the idiots. Uh… hit them with the back of your blade, or something.

Mash lifted her shield up quizzically.

Mash: And what part of this, exactly, is the blade?

April (Cris): Dammit, just try not to kill them!

Even holding back, it was clear the soldiers were no match for Mash Kyrielight. She ran circles around them, their every attack parried as their weapons shattered against their shield. Even three on one, the soldiers didn’t stand a chance. Meanwhile, Spartacus ha- oh God.

I faltered, stumbled off the road and retched. If Mash had a spotless technique, Spartacus’ was nothing but spots. He simply walked from soldier to soldier and shattered their bodies with his fists. He hadn’t even bothered to draw his sword. The few soldiers Mash pacified were bruised, but relatively unharmed. The ones unlucky enough to face Spartacus weren’t going to get back up.

The forest span <Jeanne?> around me. I know someone was calling our name, but I couldn't <Jeanne!> hear anything beyond the blood rushing to my head. My chest hurt, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't- <JEANNE!>

A sharp sting as my hand slapped my cheek. Cris stopped me from spiraling again. I took a moment to breathe properly.

April (Jeanne): Okay… Okay, I’m good. I think.

I slowly stood up and made it back to the others. The surviving French soldiers had already made their escape. Mash’s spirit origin was shaking. I put my hand on her shoulder as I got closer.

April (Jeanne): Mash, are you alright?

Mash: I should be asking you that, Master. I’m… I can’t believe it, but I’m still not used to this.

April (Jeanne): It’s only been a day or two Mash, you don’t have to force yourself to be okay with this.

Mash: A day? Oh, right.

Spartacus: Mmh. It might be better for you two if you don’t become comfortable in these sorts of things. The two of you are unoppressed by the experience of warfare. Hold that close to you.

Mash: Right. Thank you, Spartacus. So, what’s our next move?

April (Cris): Right, I hate to do this, but… we need to follow the soldiers that ran off.

Spartacus: Ahah, we must finish the fight then?

April (Cris): NO! Nonono. I mean, they’re going to run to the nearest place with people. They’re our only lead right now. Did you see which way they went, Spartacus?

Spartacus: Of course! Follow me!

----

On our way, we got in contact with Dr. Roman again. Turns out our plugsuit comes equipped with a translator- would have come in handy earlier, but fuck it, at least we won’t have to fight literally everyone we come across.

The sky was turning red when we finally saw the smoke clouds over the horizon. We rushed over a hill and finally got a look at the fort. It was in bad shape. Walls crumbled in, with smoke and fire billowing out from several windows. Dark shapes moved through the smoke, obscured in a haze.

Another wall fell over as we descen-

Kat: <Hey, look! Isn’t that one of the soldiers?>

Sure enough, one of the survivors of Spartacus’ rampage was kneeling at the top of the hill.

April (Cris): Hey! Hey you! Don’t fucking run, I’m talking to you!

The soldier had started, but before he made it to his feet we were already surrounding him. He was speaking too fast to translate at first, so I just pressed on.

April (Cris): Look, I get it if you don’t believe us, but we’re not gonna kill you.

April (Jeanne): We have traveled a long way because we heard something very, very bad was happening here. Please, can you tell us what is going on?

French Soldier: Oh, and what are the English going to do about it?! Insult her and run away?

Cris: <Apparently we can do a lot fucking more than your soldiers can.>

April (Jeanne): We have fought worse. Now, who is this “her”?

French Soldier: You’ve fought worse than Jeanne d’Arc? Hah! Unlikely!

Mash: Jeanne d’Arc? She should be dead by this point!

French Soldier: That is the worst part, she is! She was dead for three days, when the Saint of Orleans appeared out of nowhere and started razing all of France to the ground. She’s been tearing around with an Army of monsters for days now! Even King Charles couldn’t stand up to her!

April (Jeanne): Thank you. We will figure out a way to stop this, I promise.

By the time we got closer to the ruined fort, whatever had caused so much damage had long since disappeared. However, I could still make out faint traces of enchantment on some of the bodies scattered around the field.

April (Jeanne): Roman, I'm noticing something off about this corpse. What do you make of it?

Mash: Senpai, we really should get out of the open while there’s still daylight.

April (Jeanne): Give Roman a second, Mash. I'm sure there's something off about it.

Roman: Huh. Good catch, April. This body had been treated for necromancy. Large-scale necromancy is certainly rare, but it’s still possible with or without a holy grail. Either way, it’s good to have an idea of what we’re up against.

We entered the keep. Walking around was a nightmare, it was as if every square inch of space was taken up by the injured. Their groans echoed through the fort. Suddenly, I felt something on the edge of my scanning area. It was faint, but unmistakable. A spirit origin.

April (Jeanne): Mash, do you feel that?

Mash: Barely. There must be a servant outside the castle.

April (Jeanne): No, about thirty feet in that direction. Does anyone catch your eye?

Mash: There’s no one there who could be a servant, Master.

Cris: <This is pointless, let me look.>

Kat: <No way! You got to yell at the guy, lemme look, lemme look!>

Yay, I won! I turned where Jeanne was pointing. The whole place was just beat up soldiers & less beat up soldiers taking care of them. Oh, there’s one! A little girl is going around comforting people as they fall asleep!

April (Kat): What about that little girl? The one dressed in all white? Can she be a servant?

Roman: That’s not likely. Servants are invariably summoned at the “peak” of their myth. It’s possible for child prodigies to be summoned young, but the vast majority will either be young adults when they are most powerful, or at old age when they are most skilled. You guys should get some rest while you can. I’ve detected a leyline a day’s travel from here, you should set out in the morning.

We found a spot near a wall and curled up to sleep. I don’t remember much of my dreams, but when I woke up it was still dark. That girl was still tiptoeing around the soldiers, and every now and then I caught her singing, at barely above a whisper.

That was weird enough, but then something amazing happened! The soldier she was standing next to, his wounds suddenly shrank, until it was like he never got hurt at all! He shifted in his sleep, and she moved on to the next one.

April (Kat): (I knew it!)

I pulled myself out of our pile as slow as possible, and inched closer to her.

April (Kat): Excuse me?

Little Girl: Hello miss. (Please keep your voice down, people are sleeping!)

April (Kat): (Oh, sorry! This might sound weird, but… are you a servant?)

Little Girl: (I am a faithful servant of God, yes. Is something wrong?)

April (Kat): (That’s not exactly what I meant. I mean are you human?)

A strange look crossed the girls face.

Little Girl: (I was. Let’s talk outside.)

She led me by the hand out of the castle. She had such a strong grip, it was kinda awkward! Once we were a bit away, she turned to face me. Suddenly, a spear covered in flags appeared out of nowhere and landed in her hands!

Little Girl: As you have guessed, I am indeed a Servant, Lancer class. My true name is Jeanne d’Arc.

#fgo #fanfic #mastersona #singularity 1 #spartacus

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howling-harpy · 3 years

Text

A gift from the heart

Pairing: Malarkey & Skip Rating: G

Word count: 2520 Summary: Skip and Don have a day in Paris, and they are on an important quest. [ao3]

A/N: Happy birthday @lyselkatz! This is for you, I hope it’s to your liking.

Skip had clearly taken his pass to Paris with a plan in mind. “You have got to help me find the perfect present for her!” he begged as soon as Don walked up to meet him, his hands crossed in a prayer that was surely blasphemous. “What is she going to do with a present at this point?” Don argued back. “You’re shipping yourself back home soon enough.” His heart wasn’t in it, not really. He was arguing more for the sake of arguing, but it was true that they had this one afternoon off and their chances of success were pretty slim.

Paris was a great place to rest and pretend to work at an airplane exhibition, the city was nearly bursting with emotion and will to go back to peacetime, and any heartsick soldier was bound to find something good to send back home to his sweetheart. Don wasn’t sure if he was trying to talk his way out of a shopping trip, or was he simply relieved about Skip’s energy and how he displayed it despite the broken arm and cuts and bruises and drawing the banter out. “With that attitude you will be very unlucky in love!” Skip declared. “My mom said that men who think of themselves as the greatest of gifts will find themselves very lonely indeed, and I plan to make the most of this mortal life and make sure that my girl has nice things!” “Fine then, since you’re the romance expert out of the two of us,” Don gave in and finally allowed a grin to spread on his face. “But what would she like to have?” “That’s why I need help,” Skip said, raising a finger to make an important point. “I’m the romance expert, yes, but small gifts are not my area of expertise.” The thought both did and didn’t make sense, but Don was past arguing over the title of romance expert and instead tried to think of the kind of gifts girls liked. His idea of a good time was an ice cream date and listening to good music, but that was something you did in person, not wrap in brown paper and ship across an ocean. “Uh… Perhaps a good record?” Don said uncertainly. That was more like something he would have liked to unwrap himself and then be delighted about how well his girl knew him, but it was a thought. “Nah, I’d get you a record,” Skip said, nudging Don’s side with his elbow, and flashed him a knowing smile. “No, this has to be a Faye Tanner-gift. I can’t give her a Don Malarkey-gift.” Don shrugged, then gestured at the streets lined with shop windows all around them. “Maybe we should ask around?” If possible, Skip brightened up even more. He seemed to be almost trembling with excitement and ready to explore the city. “That’s great! But we need some places to hit. Make it a proper mission.” Don smiled indulgently. He had had enough of missions and objectives for a lifetime, but Skip was feeling as playful as ever and he knew it was a joke, so he allowed it. “Alright, fine,” he said, then paused to think. “Let’s think some things that she likes and what she’d like to get, and then think where we’ll find it.” “Oh yes. A guest for a true love’s gift! Onwards!” Don smiled for real then. That made it sound like an adventure in a jungle or perhaps across castles and fields and forests instead of an all too real endeavour in current time with real consequences. It almost felt like they could have been friends since they were children and run wild in the woods playing adventurers and wild children. Together, they took to the streets of Paris, Don leading the way as he sometimes knew where they were and where they were going. The list of things that Faye might have liked was growing slowly: Something distinctly European, something pretty or something sweet. Something pretty would have probably been their best bet, given both could recall a dozen times a girl back home had referenced European fashion or make up, but that was quickly becoming a dead end for them. Post-war Paris was many things and there was no doubt about fashion coming back, but right then it wasn’t exactly a priority. At least not at a reasonable price. There were shops open and some driftier places sold many mismatched piles of treasures Parisian ladies had no doubt emptied from their closets while trying to make the ends meet, but Skip and Don quickly realized they didn’t know enough to make a good judgement about them. “This is just… Not Faye!” Skip huffed as they strolled down the street after the fourth shop. “She is pretty and I think she wears cute clothes too, but it’s just… Not like this.” Don didn’t know about fashion either, just of what looked pretty to him, but looking at Skip and knowing him he could imagine Faye was probably not the beauty queen type. “Okay, forget about dresses and hats,” Don thought out loud. “How about a ribbon? Or a scarf? Or jewellery?” Skip thought it over, but then shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. She doesn’t really do her hair, says it gets soaked and flops down anyway, so why bother.” “Okay, so something distinctly European then.” Aside from the airplane exhibition Don was consulting at, several other local cultural exhibits were also opening. Curators at Louvre had apparently cried when their looted treasures started to return in their collection from Germany, and museums and galleries had started to open again, even if only to clean and air the premises. It seemed people missed beauty in their lives, and Don couldn’t fault them on that. They all did. Still, the only thing sold at Louvre were postcards and other souvenirs. There was a certain charm to them, and perhaps sending some cool trinket home along with perhaps some photos and a letter with loving regards would do. Faye sounded like a girl who appreciated the personal touch and the thought more than anything material, so a breeze of culture from France might be the thing they were after. There were plenty of soldiers buzzing around the museum and the park, plenty of them apparently caught by the same idea, everyone trying to decide which artwork was the most suitable one to convey one’s feelings. Skip didn’t pay too much attention to anyone there, but Don had learned to recognize plenty of soldiers by their uniform, and a familiar one drew his attention right away. “Hey! Lieutenant!” Don called out as he recognized a familiar profile and a set of broad shoulders. “Do you know what’s the best gift for your lover?” Lipton jumped in surprise when he was spoken to and nearly dropped the stack of postcards depicting some old, cracked paintings of Roman soldiers. “My what?” he asked, immediately flustered. Skip giggled and skipped over to join them. “Not yours, sir,” he cackled, the entire idea absurd, “we’re trying to find something for Faye before I go home. She will feed me to her cats if I don’t send her a nice present beforehand.” “Oh,” Lipton said and cleared his throat, awkward and jittery on the spot. He set the postcards back to the holder and turned his back to the photographs of Roman generals and Greeks in aggressive military formations. “A wise choice,” Skip solemnly advised him with a heavy nod. “I don’t think any girl will like those. You ought to pick something more… Elegant! Beautiful! Something European.” Lipton smiled politely and shrugged. “Technically Roman Empire used to cover most of the continent what we now call Europe, and what we even consider Europe varies through history.” When Skip and Don just stared at him, he became flustered again. “I… Uh, I’ve been listening to some radio programs at night,” he explained. Skip laughed again. “Getting a history lecture is just about the most boring thing I can imagine doing in bed,” he chuckled, and Don joined in for the plain amusement of the mental image. Lipton lowered his eyes and blushed scarlet. “Well, to each their own,” he allowed diplomatically while swaying on the heels of his boots. “Sure, sir,” Don said, then reeled them back on topic. “But the gift! Skip needs a gift for Faye.” “Oh, right,” Lipton said, visibly more at ease now that the attention was turning away from him. “Well… I don’t know Ms. Tanner, but you do, so you should use that. Whatever the gift is, the most important thing is that it makes her feel like you have listened to her and know what she likes.” “Uh-huh,” Skip said, and Don nodded along. It was a wise piece of advice, but not concrete enough to actually help them. Judging by Lipton’s smile, he realized exactly the same thing and shook his head at their impatience. Don was almost ready to appoint Lipton as the new romance expert if it wasn’t for his choice of Roman art and Greek pottery. Lipton sighed. “There’s a postcard of just about every European masterpiece here. Why don’t you look at those and pick one that makes you think of her?” Even though Lipton slipped away with a postcard depicting Marcus Crassus battling the rebel leader Spartacus, his advice was actually good, and Skip and Don started browsing the many pictures of various beautiful ladies and princesses and queens. They didn’t understand about the styles or periods but trusted their own eyes to tell what was really beautiful. Momentarily Skip was taken with a painting of a golden-haired woman wrestling a large book from a brown eagle with two heads, but even if beautiful she was too distressed, and the painting was too dramatic anyway. Eventually Skip picked up a postcard depicting a fairly modest painting of a girl dressed in simple clothes and a blue scarf on her head. She couldn’t have been more than ordinary, but the longer you looked at her gentle eyes and lips parted like in a half thought out question as she looked at you over her shoulder, the more convinced you became that she was by far not only the most beautiful but also the most intriguing of all women pictured there. “This one,” Skip said as he held the card. “She looks a bit like her too.” Still, having a simple postcard wasn’t a gift yet. It was a greeting, a simple souvenir, and it needed something more, so the quest went on. “What does she like?” Don asked Skip again as they strolled through the gardens outside of Louvre. “I think that based on all your tales of your bets and highjinks all I know is what she doesn’t like, and that’s you being an idiot.” Skip threw his head back and laughed. “Maybe so! Well, let’s see… Faye likes… Me. Cats. Baseball. Homemade pies. Milkshakes. Dancing. Pretty normal stuff, I’d say.” Just a normal girl, with normal interests, she seemed to be. Don was again at loss. It was a beautiful and hot summer day, and there was a small café on the street by the garden, and just the sight of it made them both feel suddenly thirsty and their sweet tooths ache. Mostly the café was serving coffee in tiny cups, but their display was also showing signs of revival as they served cakes, flaky pastries and chocolate treats. The prices were high and there wasn’t enough to fill the display completely, but what there was looked delicious and made with great care. They got two small éclairs because they looked nice in the window and the little sign in front of the tray had the word “chocolat” in it, and with their little treats they ventured back to the streets. Don was almost used to French baked goods after three weeks in Paris, but Skip savoured his from the very first bite. It was no wonder, the soft, fluffy dough alone was a treat, but the chocolate icing that cracked softly when you bit into the pastry was perfect, and from the face he made Don could tell that Skip hadn’t expected the cream filling. Skip chewed on the éclair slowly with his head tipped back towards the sun, and for a moment Don led him by the arm because he refused to look in front of him. “If only I could send something like this back to the States for her,” Skip sighed around a mouthful. “That would solve literally all my problems. Get a box of these or those little pink cookie things and that would be it. Too bad they wouldn’t make it to the States.” “You’re right, but maybe something else might,” Don said, his eyes already scanning for another shop. “Something sweet would do nicely.” They had to try a few shops for what they were looking for, but eventually Skip managed to find a metal tin filled with hard fruit toffees in candy wrappers. The candy itself wasn’t an extraordinary delicacy like fresh pastries were, but just as important was the beautiful tin they came in. It was like two gifts in one, European candy and a new decorative tin for buttons or letters or whatever Faye fancied. It was nearing evening, and Don had an early morning ahead of him and Skip had to report back to his commanding officer too, but the quest wasn’t yet done. “Don’t forget to wrap it up nicely too,” Don reminded Skip. “Sure, the postal office will put it in brown paper, but that’s not good enough for a gift for your girl. You got to at least find a ribbon to go under the boring paper and string so that she knows you’ve thought about it.” “Good point,” Skip said. “I’m sure I’ll find someone with a ribbon to trade – even something that doesn’t belong in some another dame’s underwear set. Thanks for the tip.” “Sure,” Don said. “Should I see you back to the station?” “No, that’s okay, I’ll find my own way,” Skip said. It was sensible that way. Don’s hotel was in the opposite direction and if he were to walk with Skip, he’d triple his own walk, and Skip knew it too and wouldn’t accept such a bother. Still it felt bad to part ways before they had to since things were uncertain, a discharge and a ticket home might come at a day’s notice, and then they wouldn’t see each other again. Not being able to say goodbye loomed over Don and kept him lingering. Skip seemed to sense it from him, because he smiled and reached to gently touch his arm. “Don’t worry, we’re headed in the same direction eventually. And when we get to the States, I’ll mail you the best present you can imagine.” Don was implored to smile, and despite the melancholy played along. “Really? What’s that?” Skip grinned bright as a summer sun, spread his arms and gestured at himself.

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #mun ficci

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malfoygrass · 4 years

Note

i just want some possessive draco fluff 😍

The first time they went clubbing together...

Draco knew rebellion wasn’t a foreign concept for Astoria Greengrass. She might not be the type to flaunt her darker nature like her sister, but Astoria had been rebelling against the system from within since long before the Grffindoors of his age made it look cool.

He hadn’t been surprised to learn Daphne’s sister had dropped out of Hogwarts after the grand battle with intentions of more or less home-school herself with the best private tutors her inheritance could buy, until she was eligible for an apprenticeship in Gringotts. The castle held too many memories, and Astoria liked to pretend she wasn’t broken. Too much false bravado, Draco could relate.

What HAD surprised him was her new choice of lodgings, not that Astoria would ever live somewhere unworthy of the daughter of a pureblood house but the luxury suite she’d rented for the foreseeable future in the upscale muggle London hotel was almost too on the nose for his taste. She was becoming a walking cliche, walking out of her family home and disapearing into the nightlife of the muggle world to party her guilty conscience away.

Everyone knew this rebellious phase of hers would eventually pass. Astoria wasn’t actually angry inside. Just tired and lost, which was why nobody was worried about her, nobody but Draco.

“Oh come on you’ll love it, please, wear a costume” Astoria laughed adjusting her Flapper girl headband “What’s the point in visiting me in my den of iniquity if you wont join me at the club”

Draco rolled his eyes taking her in “This isn’t a den of iniquity Astoria, it’s a toy playhouse and you know it, I don’t see the appeal those muggles have for you”

“Oh posh you sound like mother, well, have it your way, I’m going to the club costume part and I’m..I’m going to kiss many boys” Astoria was displeased at his grumpy attitude, she was having so much fun forgetting about the war with the muggles before he arrived to make her feel things again, what a killjoy. Muggle boys were much more simple than purebloods, they only cared that Astoria was pretty.

“No you wont” Draco snarled and changed into a dark suit, following her out the door.

He knew he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t like her, she’d been there when he was going down the darkest path he could travel and he’d never forgotten her tears. When he asked her to run for her life (and she’d listened, she always listened to him). And now, as her saw her tethering in the edge, he had to do something to keep her from slipping away from the magic world (like so many were doing after Voldemort’s defeat)

“I assume you are here to tell me this is all a phase and blah blah blah” Astoria raised an eyebrow at his dark suit and impeccable tie “Because I know for a fact you hate muggle entertainment” but still she made him apparate her into the nightclub district and dragged him past a burly bouncer into a place called ‘Scandal’ because apparently all that he was good for lately was to do ‘big’ magic for her while she still remained under the trace.

“Is it so strange of me to want to see where the most beautiful girl I know has disapeared to?” It had only been a few months since the war, but he’d come looking for her, if only because Astoria, even in her party girl phase, made him feel safe “I want to know what’s so attractive about these things”

“Oblivion” was all she answered, like if she were revealing a big secret “Come dance with me Malfoy, pick up your feet, move to the music”

“I don’t dance in-front of muggles” he spat with unnecessary annoyance “ the music in this place is too loud”

“That’s the idea Mr horntail, people don’t exactly come to these places to talk” she was smiling that secretive smile of hers, only now it looked more beguiling, and he briefly noted how he’d never seen her wear lipstick that red before “but have it your way, keep our table in the VIP section, I’m going to wear off these high heels”

The costume party was already in full swing by the time he settled into the large lounge chair and ordered some muggle thing that wouldn’t do anything to his firewhiskey touched system. And as he watched Astoria dance, he knew he wasn’t going to leave unless she came back with him.

Astoria Greengrass in her usual ladylike clothes was beautiful, Astoria Greengrass in a blue flapper dress, wearing red lipstick and high heels was stunning. And the men around her could see it.

She was delicate, but determined as she moved to the beat of the music, her innocence was something that barely escaped the horrors of Voldemort, so her movements, while perfectly classic to the tune of a 20′s song, were tinged with an edge of seduction she wasn’t aware she was projecting. A muggle man dressed as a gladiator asked her to dance rapidly and Draco had to suffer watching her sway and twirl in the arms of that magic-less idiot for ten whole minutes.

She truly was the most beautiful girl in the club, and Draco had the almost animalistic urge to pull her from the dance-floor and sit her in his lap, announcing wordlessly how ‘his’ that girl was. Except that she wasn’t. Draco didn’t even know what he felt for her, or where that feeling of pure hatred against that idiot dancing with Astoria came from, but it made him want to bare his teeth and tell him to back off and move away from little Greengrass.

The man leaned in and put his arm around her waist whispering something in her ear that made her giggle, which had Draco reaching for his wand and instinctively wondering how to hex the idiot into a painful death.

By the time the muggle pulled away and began the rhythmic sequence that the song demanded, Draco was already out of his seat.

Astoria in the meantime was making sure Draco enjoyed the view and paid for not dancing with her when he had the chance. She danced with the grace of a girl who lived for the moment. Tyler, the guy dancing with her currently, seems to agree to everything she said over the music.

“And who are you supposed to be?” She asked looking at his gladiator costume “Spartacus?”

“Mark Anthony” he leaned in a bit to whisper to her ear again, in what was supposed to be a well practiced move but only served to annoy Astoria “What do you say girlie, want to be my Cleopatra if the night ends well?”

“Well, I did say I would find a cute boy to kiss tonight” She said very, very loudly.

“And I did say, No you wont” came a menacing growl behind her, pulling her away from her new friend “I changed my mind about the dance Little Greengrass”

“Hey! she was with me mate” The muggle gladiator protested “It’s a club and if a lady says she wants to...” the rest of the words died in his mouth when Draco stepped a little closer and glared down at him. The tall menacing looking young man next to the little flapper exuded wealth and privilege, the kind that has enough money to get away with murder and knows it.

“You were saying?” Draco raised an eyebrow bringing Astoria closer to him

“That I didn’t know she had a boyfriend already” The muggle gladiator grumbled under his breath “Figures, a flapper in these parties is never too far away from her mobster, just my luck”

Neither Draco nor Astoria commented on his erroneous assumption, instead Astoria put her arms around Draco’s neck and smiled “That was rude”

“He was undressing you with his eyes” they began to dance slowly, but seductively with each other, each movement bringing them closer together.

“So are you” Astoria breathed into his neck as he pulled her flush against his body in an expert movement “In fact the way your hands feel right now, it looks like it’s not only the eyes planning on doing the undressing”

“Maybe I’m coming to realize that dancing in muggle clubs does have its merits” his hands continued exploring her back, tracing the seam of her undergarments with lazy confidence, making her feel every inch of him pressed as she was to his chest as some obscure singer droned in the background about love and romance “is this what you say brings you oblivion?”

“No” she whispered “Oblivion means forgetting, dancing with you is nothing like that, I want to remember every part of this”

Draco grinned “Good, because I plan to do this all night” Now that he knew how good it felt, he was going to make sure that Astoria was never tempted to seek out another dance partner...Now or ever.

He might not know what he felt about her, but he didn’t want to let her go. At least not in the foreseeable future.

#falling in love #costume party au #draco and astoria #the world just needs more drastoria #drastoria #Draco Malfoy #astoria greengrass #dancing as a metaphor for pinning #early stages of their relationship

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watchathon · 4 years

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Book 3, Chapter 2: The Headband

In case you’re finding this post just by browsing the tags I’ve used for this post, this is the Watchathon, a blog where I’m hoping to watch an episode of a TV show every weekday, with a short blog post where I write down my thoughts as I watch. Each new thought starts with a hyphen and a bolded first word.

- Like so. Now that the introductions are over with, here’s my thoughts on The Headband:

- So, my sister walked into my room just as the episode was starting, when Zuko was in his bed with his eyes closed. I whispered to her “Shh, be quiet, Zuko is sleeping. Or be as loud you like, I’m pretty sure he’s a heavy sleeper.” Then, even though she knew I was joking, she actually did speak quietly until she left. Just a little funny story there.

- I’m guessing it’s the prison that Zuko walked over to. I wonder if he was considering talking to his uncle?

- I honestly forgot about how Aang could use Airbending and Waterbending to make clouds. Pretty clever to use it as a disguise while they’re in the Fire Nation.

- I never thought that Katara would be so eager about stealing a disguise... Though, I can’t really blame her, these are some nice-looking clothes, they need a disguise to help their survival...

- And also Aang after a second to think it over.

- I like how the Gaang’s finding a disguise is treated like hasty clothes shopping.

- I like when Aang shows that he’s from a century ago. In this case, outdated ideas of what would help him to blend in at the Fire Nation.

- Feels kinda weird to see Aang in a classroom.

- On Ji’s real sweet. One of those character where I understand why she’s a one shot, but I do wish she could’ve made a return at some point, even just as a cameo.

- I like how Aang is so nice to even the bully character.

- I’ll never get sick of Sokka’s OTT reactions to Aang’s latest antics.

- I guess I was right on the money with where Zuko was heading, and why he was heading there. Getting into spoiler stuff, but this hits different knowing that Iroh isn’t at all angry at Zuko, just sad that he decided his honor was that much more important to him than his uncle.

- I like scenes like this where a student ends up knowing more about a topic than the teacher. It’s a fun way of showing a character’s intelligence, or (like in this case) that they have knowledge almost no one else has.

- I didn’t think that the Fire Nation would be anti-dancing... In a few centuries, are they gonna have Marching In Place Quietly With The Stars?

- Finally we’ve reached the scene that autoplays as a preview every time I’m about to select Avatar on Netflix.

- Y’know, it just occurred to me... I don’t think we’ve gotten the bully’s name yet. Should I just call him Nameless Bully?

- Ah, and here we see the first appearance of Avatar: The Last Airbender’s true hero: Wang Fire! A warrior so awesome that they had no choice but to reduce his screentime just so he wouldn’t overshadow our “hErO” Aang.

- But let us not forget to honor his kind and gracious wife Sapphire Fire, as radiant and brilliant as the gemstone she was named after!

- Part of me’s worried that I could take this schtick too far... But most of me is wondering, is that even possible?

- The scariest thing about Azula is that no matter what she says or does, you just know there’s some kind of ulterior motive behind it. But you can almost never figure it out immediately.

- The greatest tool of revolution: Secret dance parties!

- I like this scene of Aang teaching the Fire Nation kids about dancing, and the way that their ancestors danced a century ago.

- I wonder if Iroh had hope for a second that Zuko had changed, only to have that hope dashed once it became apparent that Zuko was only worried about what would happen if Aang survived.

- And Aang even taught the Fire Nation kids an Earth Kingdom dance! Maybe this dance party will make a change to how these kids see the world, even if it’s a small change.

- Dancing is not just frowned upon in the Fire Nation, it’s a criminal offense!

- So that’s his name: Hide!

- I like the “I Am Spartacus” moment with the schoolkids covering for Aang. It’s really nice and wholesome.

- I’ve gotta wonder what these kids’ reactions will be when the mysterious kid who introduced them to dancing and then disappeared without a trace turns out to be the Avatar?

- And we end on an early bird cameo of Combustion Man.

#TV #Avatar The Last Airbender #ATLA #Book 3: Fire #The Headband #Zuko #Aang #Katara #On Ji #Sokka #Iroh #Wang Fire #Sapphire Fire #Hide #Combustion Man

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wanderlustinwonderland18 · 4 years

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Elena Ilinykh: “There Are No Limits”

I remember how you told me that you would become a mother. You just found out that you are expecting a baby, and your eyes burned so bright, just like in Sochi!

Elena: Well, that’s because I told you (laughs). I was so happy at that moment! I had my own fears. I wanted a child and was afraid that something might not work out because of the sport. I thought that 25 is a very good age to become a mother for the first time. Thank God, everything went well for me, fears remained fears, and I have a child now... This is the biggest miracle, completely indescribable feelings. Of course, at this stage of my life, this is my most important victory.

Are you ready to repeat? To have the second baby right after this?

Elena: Right after? I don’t know, I am so happy that this happened. Of course, I’m ready for this joy again. Children are from God, so as God willing, I’m ready (laughs).

So Mir has a Russian passport, American by the place of birth, and I heard that Seryozha would also like to think about Ukraine and Serbia because he has passports of these countries?

Elena: Ukrainian is already registered, and yes, we will think about Serbian too.

Mir is a citizen of the world.

Elena: Yes, 100 percent! We have already laughed so many times about this! Just yesterday, I talked with my mom, and she said: “I see it in his eyes that he should study at MGIMO (Moscow State Institute of International Relations).” I said: “Well, in principle, everything is set for this” (laughs).

Wait, MGIMO? You told me that the Mir has ballet feet!

Elena: Well, yes, he definitely has ballet feet and ballet arms. He will have all the makings of creative person, but Seryozha and I think that two creative people in the family is enough (laughs). In fact, it’s too early to think about it. We will listen and observe his development.

Your romance with the ballet began long before Seryozha, because when you and Nikita (Katsalapov) did Don Quixote, the Bolshoi Theater sewed a tutu for you.

Elena: Yes.

At that moment, did you know that it will lead to a ballet love story?

Elena: Of course not. I always watched ballet with pleasure, to look for new lifts or new costumes... But I did not know anything about the dancer Sergei Polunin. As it turned out later, photos from his Spartacus were saved on my phone! It is a habit of mine to save ballet photos.

Well, if you and Dima Soloviev resume a career, one program is already clear.

Elena: Dima and I have slightly different plans for the free dance (laughs).

So, is a career resumption possible?

Elena: It’s very difficult to coordinate all this right now. I really had a conversation with Dima, we discussed everything. When I began to skate with Dima, Katya Bobrova, who was pregnant during that time, came to our first training session and showed me some elements. I thank her so much for that! She was already with a belly, and after the training she said: “that’s all, I’m going on maternity leave, it’s your turn now.”

Did you touch her belly?

Elena: Yes, she she let me (laughs).

Now everything is clear. She passed the baton.

Elena: (Laughs) I think so. Everything went so well with Dima in the show. Surprisingly, we get along both in character and on the ice. We began to talk a lot and realized that we have a chance to do what we haven’t done in figure skating yet... That we haven’t fulfilled our careers, and that we need to continue.

I was so sure that you were born in Moscow, and to my surprise...

Elena: I was born on the shore of the Caspian Sea, in Aktau (Kazakhstan).

Have you been there since birth?

Elena: Yes, of course. My dad lives there, my grandmother and grandfather on my father’s side too. I visit them in Astana. The city has changed so much!

It could have been Elena Ilinykh from Kazakhstan, but so far, the world of figure skating only knows Elizabet Tursynbaeva.

Elena: Yes, a very good and talented girl. By the way, I’m pleased that they write about me in Kazakhstan... People over there say yes, she represents Russia but this is our girl! She was born in Kazakhstan! My dad sent me texts from newspapers, that they were proud of me back home, cheered at competitions. It is very pleasant and important for me.

Another surprise for me is that you apparently skated with Ivan Bukin...

Elena: Well, no, let me crush this myth. I don’t know where it came from but these are untrue stories. I started in ice dance with Nikita. We were both single skaters in the group of Dubinskaia. Videos of our performances are even available on YouTube. A little later, our mothers decided to put us in a pair, switch to ice dance, and go to Ilya Averbukh and Irina Lobacheva. We were the very first students to go there. On the very first day, Nikita dropped me from a lift and I had a huge black eye. After that trial, we started to work as a pair (laughs). Not long after, we went to Alexander Zhulin. We competed, skated for a year, and then we had a short break up.

And you went to America to train with Zueva and Shpilband?

Elena: Yes, just after the first break, I went to America... But before that, I was still in Moscow for two months. It is these two months they say that I skated with Vanya and left him. No, no, no! Since I was temporarily left without a partner, I was looking. With Ivan, we only had a try out. In my understanding, to be a pair is to perform in at least one competition. With Bukin, we didn’t have a single joint program. We tried to skate together, tried to do different joint exercises, but these were just try outs, only two months. So there can be no talk of any joint partnership. At first, his dad coached us a little, then we went to the group of Svinin and Zhuk... But they did not take me seriously at that time. They had a strong group and I was completely unnoticed there. You know me, everything was boiling inside, I needed attention.

So what happened?

Elena: During that time, Igor Shpilband and Marina Zueva invited me. I don’t remember how it happened, but I was taken to the United States. That’s all. Vanya and I didn’t take part in any competitions, we have never performed together. I sometimes read that people are not happy with me, because I left Vanya... But we couldn’t have anything, I was made to understand that I did not fit the role of Vanya’s partner.

And you went to Zueva and Shpilband, who had the paradise of ice dancers.

Elena: I was like WOW the whole time! Little Shibutanis were there, Belbin and Agosto, Davis and White, Virtue and Moir, Chock and Bates. These teams developed there. In general, it was an incredible experience. There really was a system. It’s probably not good to reveal some inside secrets, but Marina with Igor – it was incredible.

What did they have that we didn’t?

Elena: Healthy competition... Everyone is determined to work, to win, but there was no bad blood. It seems to me that Russian athletes have a little bit.

One of the most popular questions: Does Ilinykh communicate with Katsalapov?

Elena: Well, I can’t say that we communicate because we both have completely different lives now... But we have a good relationship, we congratulate each other on holidays. Vika congratulated me on the birth of my child. It’s not our problem that people come up with the idea of conflict between us. I cheer for Nikita, for his partnership with Vika. There is no hostility between us. I am grateful to Nikita because together, we achieved the main goal in our career – Olympic gold and bronze. Nikita chose a different path, and now he strives to reach new goals. I have different values, I walk my own path. Maybe there is some kind of internal female bitterness, but this is solely my problem and not the problem of our relations.

You started as a single skater. If we imagine you in the group of Tutberidze, do you think that you would succeed?

Elena: (Laughs) Yes, I think so. At one of the training camps, Julia Lipnitskaya and I watched some of my old videos, and she joked that it’s good that I switched to ice dance, because otherwise, we would have competed against each other in Sochi. She appreciated the technique of my double axel, which at that time, was very cool for my age (laughs). Now, of course, the bar has risen, but I always liked single skating. I love the strict approach, this tough approach is just what I needed. Therefore, if I were in Tutberidze’s group, I’m sure I would succeed under her guidance.

Which of Tutberidze’s skaters do you like the most?

Elena: Sasha Trusova. I’m a fan!

Why?

Elena: I don’t know, she’s so cool. I really like her. I always worry about her the most. I appreciate the qualities of all the girls, they are all great, but for some reason, I like Sasha the most. She reminds me very much of Julia Lipnitskaya, with her character.

I remember you telling me that two weeks after the birth of Mir, you would return with Dima Soloviev.

Elena: Yes. If it strikes me that I’m coming back, I will accept this challenge and work hard. There are no limits.

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starsspin-a · 3 years

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here are some spartacus and ilithyia thoughts - spartacus just kinda left ilithyia in the woods to make her own way back to capua. (which i get, it was not his responsibility to see her returned safely, because if he had brought her any closer there was a chance he could have been captured and that would not have been good) but we don’t talk enough about how ilithyia managed to walk however many miles back to the villa by herself. (like no one other roman was like hey maybe i should help??) - spartacus doesn’t like ilithyia but in the moment where he lets her go, he sympathized with her. gaius chose vengence over spartacus than ilithyia’s life. spartacus knows that gaius would no doubt assume they would kill her. but spartacus whole thing is to do what the romans would not. he says to ilithyia that taking her life would balance nothing. and later when saxa and gannicus asked him why he let ilithyia go that killing her would gain them nothing. he lets her go to live and deal with the fact that her husband chose the chance to kill spartacus over saving her life.

#like i have so many thoughts on just THAT ONE SCENE #II spartacus II general #;; ilithyia ;; general

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves · 4 years

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I've been watching Spartacus and it got me thinking about Megatron's gladiatorial days. Could you do a dabble on one of his fights?

GREAT ask there, so sure! I don't really know of any canonically (besides his with Soundwave and that one with Devastator in Cyberverse), so I'll make one up! I've done it in rps plenty of times!

Megatron looked around the room. Before gladiators set pede on stage, they were always sent here, biding their time before their fights. He looked to the left of him. Some mechs were loud, rowdy, ready to fight and earn their ways to glory. He looked to the right. A group of mechs that were frozen, internally fearful of what may happen. While these events promised fame, and glory, they came at a cost. Your life. For some, it was worth it. Like Megatron. He did it not for the fems and the money (though they WERE nice), but for the attention. When you had all the popularity, all audials were focused on you. That was what Megatron needed, as a way to spread his ideals. Every battle won was more fans, more ammunition against the council that oppressed. He was knocked out of his thoughts as the intercom went off.

"Megatronus, Drixco, you're on in twenty kliks."

Megatronus looked at the mech from the right. He was staring back at him, but not with malice. With fear. It wasn't the first one. Megatronus stood up, and began his walk. He held himself high, and mighty. The dark, damp room soon gave way to light; the crowds in the stands nearly making his audials ring. Show time. He held his hands in the air, only commanding more applause from his adoring audience. He walked far into the field, and stopped, facing the direction in which he came. The young mech walked out, seeming to be cautious, as if the ground itself was an enemy. He walked up to Megatronus, stopping until he could get a good view of his face. He was a lower class mech, clearly fit for industrial work. His paint was black, but scuffed enough to come off as gray. His face was scuffed enough to make him look older than he actually was, showing he had gone through quite the strife. He pulled out his sword, and held his stance. This mech had seen some practice, but not enough. Not enough to wipe the fear and uncertainty away. Megatron assumed he had dealt with only ten fights at the most. While the number itself maybe small, it was nothing to scoff at. Not here. Megatron pulled out his own blade, placing it right next to his. Drixco took a small inhale.

“It’s an honor, Megatronus.”

“I’d give the same to you. You do not fight for glory. Yet, I can not determine why.”

Little talks like these were common, as it was a few kliks to give the crowd enough time to finish up their wagers. Drixco exhaled, and Megatronus finally saw his optics. This mech was young. Too young to be here, and amongst this filth.

“I...I was hoping to meet you.”

“Oh. Is this some sort of honor death?”

“No. I...I’ve read all your works. And I believe all of them completely. I’ve...always wanted to be more than my altmode. I may perish here, under you. But I’m willing to die for one who made such ideologies.”

Megatronus wanted to speak. He wanted to tell this mech how much that meant to him. How this was the reason he fought; for mechs like him. Unfortunately, the voice above them chimed in.

“Fems and gentle bots! We’re so glad to see you here today! We have Drixco, a lowly mech who has won only a measly eleven battles, vs Megatronus, who is now currently on his one hundredth match! Such a short run for the little mech! You all know the drill, the only rule is make it loud, and make it proud! On my mark! One!”

Megatronus looked at the mech. He was trying so hard to be brave.

“Two!”

He wanted to understand him. Wanted to sit and talk with the mech he held such reverence to.

“Three!”

Megatronus’s body moved before he commanded it to, swinging his weapon against the other. He blocked it, before his pede to push him away and created distance. He made a dash towards him, before Megatronus pushed him back with his shoulder. This mech, although inexperienced, picked up quite a bit for just eleven matches. Megatronus heard the cheers above him as he swiped at him, forcing his weapon to fly out of his hand, and into the ground. Drixco looked at him in panic, before he ran for it, trying to obtain his weapon. Megatron swiped at his leg, sending him crashing down. Megatronus stood above him, the end of the blade of his throat.

“Any last words?”

“Y...yes. You thought I was that easy?”

He lifted his legs up, and kicked Megatronus away from him. He got up in his hurry, grabbing his weapon, and slashing at Megatronus face. The crowd turned into a mixture of boos and cheers as he felt at his cut. Spilled energon. This mech was a fighter in not just his ideologies. Megatronus hated how much he was liking this mech. He growled, determined to end this before he can be added to the rest of the mechs in his mind. He screamed, and dove in, slashing his sword like a mad man. His moves were exaggerated, fast, and pleasing to the optic. Drixco struggled to block, and found himself in a corner in mere kliks. It didn't take long before he was on the ground again; body battered, bruised, and the weapon shattered to pieces. Megatronus held his blade to his spark chamber. Drixco looked up at him, and chuckled.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because...I’m happy. I do not wish to die, but I understand that I must. In order to break the council, you need stepping stones. I...I wanted to one day grow, and become a merchant of some sort. Travelling the galaxies and meeting so many people...I wanted to see past the conveyor belt. But if me perishing leads to the future generation the opportunity, so be it.”

Megatronus was frozen. The crowd was roaring, relentless in their bloodlust. The selflessness of this one mech moved him. Megatronus would die for this mech below him. That was when he did something unheard of. Something that was never before seen. He dropped his weapon, and leaned down, offering his hand.

“I will make sure you live another day towards that dream, my friend.”

Megatronus helped the clearly baffled mech up, and he looked towards the crowd. He held up both their hands to show the crowd.

“Citizens of Koan! I hereby grant you this. The council sits upon their ivory thrones, forcing us into fighting like cyber rats! I say to you today, that i refuse to fight my opponent. Drixco here will fight another day. For I grant him my defiance against the council. I grant this mech beside me, mercy!”

The crowd was silent. That was when it started. One grumble amongst the crowd turned into an uproar of disapproval. One mech above them stood up.

“Hey! I came here to watch you kill someone! Do your damn job or-”

“If you would like to see blood shed, then please, be my guest!”

His voice echoed through the arena. The crowd went silent, and stayed that way. Everyone was aghast. Drixco looked at him with such wonder, it was as if he was watching the birth of a universe before him.

“I don't...understand-”

“If we want the council to hear us, we must make some new noise, my friend. Will you do me the honor of being another voice of mine?”

Drixco nodded, lightly grunting as Megatronus guided him back inside. Drixco wasn't the last mech he spared, but he was the first. He was the first, and more important that he would’ve ever known. The first willing to die at his hands. The first to vouch for him so publicly and adamantly. The first to fall victim to Optimus Prime, and the first kindle to light the kindle of the flames that was the war. Megatron looked back at that face, and only felt it stroke the flames of the fire within him. Sure, Soundwave and others like him were monumental to his success, but none of it would've been possible without that fight. Without Drixco.

In case you’re curious, I took inspiration from this character here!; https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Drixco

#asks #megatron #drixco

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