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ltwilliammowett · 4 months ago

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Glossary of Nautical Terms - as used in the late 18th and early 19th centuries

Aft: at or towards the stern or after part of a ship, the opposite of bow.

Aloft: overhead, or above.

Athwart: across.

Bank: a rising ground in the sea, differing from a shoal, because not rocky but composed of sand, mud or gravel.

Becalmed: to halt through lack of wind.

Bow: the foremost end or part of a ship, the opposite of stern.

Bowsprit: a large mast or piece of timber which stands out from the bow of a ship.

Burthen: the older term used to express a ship's tonnage or carrying capacity. It was based on the number of tuns of wine that a ship could carry in her holds, the total number giving her burthen.

Chase, to: to pursue a vessel in wartime with the aim of capturing, acquiring information from her, or destroying.

Colours: the name by which the national flag flown by a ship at sea is known, used to determine nationality.

Dead reckoning: a system of navigation where the position of a ship is calculated without the use of any astronomical observation whatever.

Fair wind: a wind favourable to the direction a ship is sailing.

Fathom: a measure of six feet, used to divide the lead (or sounding) lines in measuring the depth of water; and to calculate in the length of cables, rigging, etc.

Fore: the forward part.

Hail, to: to call to another ship.

Helm: the instrument by which the ship is steered, and includes both the wheel and the tiller, as one general term.

Jib: a triangular sail set by sailing ships on the boom which runs out from the bowsprit.

Jury-mast: a temporary makeshift mast erected to replace a mast that has been disabled or carried away.

Jury-rudder: a makeshift arrangement to give a ship the ability to to steer when she has lost her rudder.

Keel: the lowest and principal timber of a wooden ship - the single strongest member of the ship's frame.

Knot: the nautical measure of speed, one knot being a speed of one nautical mile (6,080 feet) per hour. As a measure of speed the term is always knots, and never knots an hour.

Landfall: the discovery of the land.

Land-locked: sheltered all round by the land, so that there is no view of the sea.

Lead: an instrument for discovering the depth of water, attached to a lead-line, which is marked at certain distances to measure the fathoms.

Lee: the side of a ship, promontory, or other object away from the wind; that side sheltered from the wind. It is the opposite side to windward.

Lee shore: a coastline on to which the wind blows directly - consequently it can be dangerous as the wind tends to force the sailing ship down on it.

Leeward: with the wind; towards the point to which the wind blows.

Letter of Marque: a commission issued in Britain by the Lord High Admiral or Commissioners of the Admiralty authorizing the commander of a privately owned ship to cruise in search of enemy merchant vessels. The letter of marque described the ship, her owners and officers, the amount of surety which had been deposited and stressed the necessity of having all prize vessels or goods seized condemned and valued at a Vice Admiralty Court for the payment of 'prize money'.

Lie-to: to prevent a vessel from making progress through the water - achieved by reducing sail in a gale. The objective is to keep the vessel in such a position, with the wind on the bow, as to ensure that heavy seas do not break aboard.

The Line (or 'Crossing the Line') Sailing across the Equator. Nautical tradition where seamen celebrate the crossing of the equator by dressing up and acting out a visit by King Neptune. Those who have not previously crossed the line are summoned to the court of Neptune for trial, followed by a ritual ducking (in a bathing tub of seawater) and sometimes lathered and roughly shaved.

Mainsail: the principal sail of a sailing vessel.

Mizzen (or mizen): the name for the third, aftermost, mast of a square-rigged sailing ship or of a three-masted schooner.

Muster: to assemble the crew of a ship on deck and call through the list of names to establish who is present and accounted for.

Muster-book: the book kept on board a vessel in which was entered the names of all men serving in the ship, with the dates of their entry and final discharge from the crew. It was the basis on which victuals were issued and payment made for services performed on board.

Pintle: a vertical metal pin attached to the leading edge of the rudder; it is fitted into the metal ring or 'gudgeon' bolted to the sternpost of a vessel. This provides the means for hinging the rudder on the sternpost and allows a rudder to be swung or turned as desired (by use of the tiller); where necessary (ie. when the rudder needs to be removed or repaired) the pintles can be unshipped quickly and the rudder detached.

Port: the left-hand side of a vessel as seen from the stern; also a harbour or haven.

Privateer: a privately owned vessel armed with guns which operated in time of war against the trading vessels of an enemy nation. Each privateer was given a a 'letter of marque' which was regarded as a commission to seize any enemy shipping as a 'prize'. The name 'privateer' has come to refer to both the ship and the men who sailed in her.

Prize: name used to describe an enemy vessel captured at sea by a ship of war or a privateer; also used to describe a contraband cargo taken from a merchant ship. A 'prize court' would then determine the validity of capture of ships and goods and authorize their disposal. 'Prize' in British naval history always acted as considerable incentive to recruitment with many men tempted to join the navy in anticipation of quick riches.

Prize Court: Captured ships were to be brought before prize courts where it was decided whether the vessel was legal prize; if so, the whole value was divided among the owners and the crew of the ship.

Prize Money: the net proceeds of the sale of enemy shipping and property captured at sea - these proceeds were distributed to the captors on a sliding scale from highest rank to lowest seaman.

Road or Roadstead: a stretch of sheltered water near land where ships may ride at anchor in all but very heavy weather; often rendered as 'roads', and does not refer to the streets of a particular port city but rather its anchorage, as in 'St Helens Roads', the designated anchorage for shipping located between St. Helens (Isle of Wight) and Portsmouth, or 'Funchal Roads' at the island of Madeira. (see Elizabeth Macquarie's 1809 Journal).

Quarter: (1)the direction from which the wind was blowing, particularly if it looked like remaining there for some time; (2)the two after parts of the ship - strictly speaking a ship's port or starbord quarter was a bearing 45° from the stern.

Ship: from the Old English scip, the generic name for sea-going vessels (as opposed to boats). Originally ships were personified as masculine but by the sixteenth century almost universally expressed as as feminine.

Shoal: a bank or reef, an area of shallow water dangerous to navigation. Sounding: the of operation of determioning the depth of the sea, and the quality of the ground, by means of a lead and line, sunk from the ship to the bottom, where some of the sediment or sand adheres to the tallow in the hollow base of the lead.

Sound: (1) to try the depth of the water; (2) a deep bay.

Sounding: ascertaining the depth of the sea by means of a lead and line, sunk from a ship to the bottom.

Soundings: those parts of the ocean not far from the shore where the depth is about 80 to 100 fathoms.

Spar: a general term for any wooden support used in the rigging of a ship - includes all masts, yards, booms, gaffs etc.

Squall: a sudden gust of wind of considerable strength.

Starboard: the right-hand side of a vessel as seen from the stern.

Stern: after-part of a ship or boat.

Tack: the nautical manouevre of bringing a sailing vessel on to another bearing by bringing the wind round the bow; during this manouevre the vessel is said to be 'coming about'.

Tide of Flood: the flow of the tidal stream as it rises from the ending of the period of slack water at low tide to the start of the period of slack water at high tide; its period is approximately six hours.

Trade Winds: steady regular winds that blow in a belt approximately 30 N. and 30 S of the equator. In the North Atlantic the trades blow consistently all year round, from the north-east; in the South Atlantic they blow from the south-east, converging just north of the equator. The meeting of the trade winds just north of the equator created the infamous 'doldrums', where sailing ships could be becalmed for days or weeks waiting for a wind to carry them back into the trades.They were known as trade winds because of their regularity, thereby assisting sailing vessels in reaching their markets to carry out trade.

Under way: the description of a ship as soon as she begins to move under canvas power after her anchor has been raised from the bottom; also written as 'under weigh.'

Voyage: a journey by sea. It usually includes the outward and homeward trips, which are called passages.

Watch: (1) one of the seven divisions of the nautical day; (2) one of two divisions of the seamen forming the ship's company.

Wear: the nautical manouevre of bringing a sailing vessel on to another tack by bringing the wind around the stern.

Weather: in a nautical sense (rather than a meteorological) this is the phrase used by seamen to describe anything that lies to windward. Consequently, a coastline that lies to windward of a ship is a weather shore; the side of a ship that faces the wind when it is under way is said to be the weather side a ship, etc.

Weigh: to haul up.

Weigh anchor: the raising of the anchor so that the ship is no longer secured to the sea or river bottom.

Windward: the weather side, or that direction from which the wind blows. It is the opposite side to leeward.

Yard: (1) a large wooden spar crossing the masts of a sailing ship horizontally or diagonally, from which a sail is set. (2) a shortened form of the word 'dockyard, in which vessels are built or repaired.

Sources: JEANS, Peter D. Ship to Shore: a dictionary of everyday words and phrases derived from the sea. Santa Barbara: ABC-Clio, 1993.

The Oxford Companion to Ships & the Sea. (ed.) Peter Kemp. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1976.

#naval history #naval artifacts #ship terms #not from me #sources below #18th century #19th century #age of sail #infos

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hellenhighwater · 3 months ago

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i have. no idea what art prize is? but your blog is very cool and my brother lives in gr so i could easily drive over there to visit him and cast a vote for you :)

Huh, yeah, I guess I haven't explained it really.

ArtPrize is a city-wide art show/competition in Grand Rapids, Michigan, which happens annually in September. It lasts a little more than half the month, and it usually involves somewhere around 500+ pieces of art, ranging in scale from handmade pots to building-sized murals to large-scale art installations. The venues that host the art are generally business, parks, or public spaces across the city. There's somewhere in the range of $600,000 in prize/grant money this year, spread out across categories. There's also parades, live events--it's a little like a citywide festival.

There's three direct ways for an artist to get money out of ArtPrize. The first is by receiving a grant, which I did! There's a limited number of grants available, (I think ten?) most of them for $2,000. Which is both a lot of money and also not that much, when you're factoring in things like costs of lumber to build display pedestals, studio fees, etc. $2,000 mostly covers what it's cost me to participate. (Of course, costs of competition vary a huge amount from artist to artist! It depends entirely on what you're making.) It's a huge gift (and a big vote of confidence) to get the grant I did.

Second, you can win a juried award for your category. Juried awards are selected by a panel of judges from the professional art world, and they choose based on the more academic criteria that art is generally judged by. There's a $10,000 cash prize for the jury award winner in each category of art, 2D, 3D, installation, time-based, new media, and design. I'm in the 3D category! It's one of the bigger categories, so competition is stiff.

For every $10,000 juried award category, there's also a public vote award! This is the bit I will be bothering all of the locals about. Anyone who visits the geographic range of ArtPrize (a specific area of the city that they map out) and gets out their smartphone, logs in to the website, and scans a QR code can vote once a day for an artwork. (You only have to be in the city the first time you vote, you can keep voting once a day from wherever you are after that. ) There were about 30,000 votes cast by the public last year, out of 700,000 attendees.

But the headliner is the Public Vote Grand Prize, for the art piece in any category that gets the most votes--a cash prize of $125,000. It's a lot! I don't know that I have any real chance at winning that but I will be trying my best!

So, if you go, you'll find my art at the Atrium by Uccello's, and I'll be asking you to vote for this series.

#there's no cost to visitors btw #you can just wander around and look at stuff

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storiesofsvu · 5 months ago

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Once

Prosecutor!Hotch x reader warnings: language, teasing, semi public sex, smut. This might be my last one shot for a while, I'm likely going to be working on one shots in tandem with the series I want to wrap up, but only be posting the series for a while. This plan is so that when I eventually get back to work (cause yes, we shut down again and the job I was *guaranteed* to have over the break was pulled out from under me at 2am the day we closed by the same ppl who promised it to me...) i have a lot of stuff finished to queue so y'all aren't empty handed lol. Like Hotch and don't want to miss out?! Sign up for the taglist here! Enjoy what you're reading or want to prioritize a request? But me a ko-fi! 🩵🫶🏻

Aaron had been eyeing you up since you’d refused his plea deal back at the precinct, then again, he’d been eyeing you up for what felt like years already. He found it incredibly hard not to, you were always well dressed, clothes fitted, likely designer and tailored perfectly for you, never a hair out of place, your lips coated in a shade that complimented your skin perfectly and made him want to kiss you until he felt drunk. He had yet to win a case against you and shamefully felt like his attraction towards you was more or less the reason, constantly distracted while you did your crosses, feeling admiration at the way you spoke, wrapping the jury around your perfectly manicured finger rather than annoyed that you were swaying them against his client. His eyes raking up your form, trying not to linger to much on your curves perfectly accented by your skirt suits, feeling the rush of adrenaline when you’d suddenly turn back to the gallery, nearly catching his eye before cocking a brow or sending him a smirk, a sure fire sign that you knew you were about to win.

The lingering glances went both ways of course, you happened to be just that much more subtle about it, your eyes on Hotch while your ears were still vehemently listening to his questioning, ready to object whenever you could. You were able to play it off easier than he was, barely giving him a glance before you would redirect the witness and be whisking past him to the stand, a whiff of your perfume enough to intoxicate him for a moment.

It wasn’t a flirtation, it wasn’t a trend of ‘will they, won’t they’ it was rather a game of cat and mouse. Who was going to give in, who was going to be the victor and rightfully claim their prize, though it was a constant guessing game between the two of you of who was the predator and who was the prey. You flaunted yourself more often than he did, clothing in rich colours, pulling focus in the court room, designer heels that brought you up closer to his eyeline, shiny pieces of jewelry placed in just the right spots to have him glancing where he wouldn’t otherwise. Aaron rarely even opted for a colourful tie, leaving practically everything to your imagination, which honestly, you weren’t complaining about.

But it wasn’t just about the over the top professional and shark like performances in the courtroom that drew you to each other. It was the more candid and intimate moments when he would show up at your office to drop off a warrant or barter through an offer. Catching you halfway through lunch, your blazer off, exposing more skin, the curve of your breast peeking out over the top of your blouse when you bent over your desk to grab something. The more casual way you spoke, the way you insulted your client, agreeing that they were an idiot, the way the word ‘fuck’ rolled off your tongue so perfectly he wished he could hear you moaning it.

The judge called for lunch and Aaron felt like he could barely keep up with your stiletto powered steps in the hallway as you sauntered towards the elevator. Quips and teasing jabs were volleyed back and forth as the stern tone of the courtroom dissipated and a playful nature took over between the two of you. Aaron’s large hand, warm and strong was suddenly on your waist, guiding you out of the way of incoming foot traffic and it practically electrified your senses. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, nails tickling his skin and he felt himself twitch in his pants, suddenly intoxicated by the smell of your shampoo as your head whipped around to look at him.

Neither of you were entirely sure how you’d ended up behind the locked door of a spare witness prep room, but you weren’t going to complain about the way Aaron had you pinned up against the wall as he kissed you. There was a fire behind it, deep and passionate as you battled for dominance, one of his hands on your hips, pressing you harder into the wall while the other one tangled into your hair. Your hands looped over his shoulders, nails scratching at his scalp while you tried to resist the urge to wrap your legs around his waist. You nipped at his lower lip and he retaliated by slipping his tongue into your mouth, commanding the kiss, his hand cupping your cheek, holding you directly where he wanted as his hips rolled against yours, pressing his growing hard on into you. You couldn’t help the moan you let out into the kiss, your tongue moving with grace right along Aaron’s, his free hand crept up your body, palming at your chest and you broke the kiss with a gasp. He took full advantage, mouth moving across your jaw until he was peppering kisses down the side of your neck and your hands were tugging at your blazer, dropping it to the floor once it was off your body.

“This is a one time thing!” You panted, hands clawing at his back as his teeth sunk into your neck, his head nodding ever so slightly when his tongue lapped out to soothe the burn of the bite. You felt the tingle burn its way through you, starting from where his mouth was on you, working down you body to where he was pawing at your chest, all the way to in between your legs where it burst into flame.

“Now why would you say that?” He muttered, a devilish smile on his kiss swollen lips and a dark gleam in eyes and you huffed, grabbing his wrist to direct his hands back to your body.

“Oh just shut up and stop being a tease.” You growled and he laughed.

“Yes Counselor.”

Aaron ducked his head once again, but this time to the other side of your neck, leaving a trail of messy kisses up it until he reached your lips again, swallowing down your moans and whimpers. Your leg wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to you so you could roll your hips, your panties dampening with each time your cunt brushed at his clothed cock. He let out a small groan, his cock throbbing in his pants at just the thought of being buried deep inside you. His hands found the hem of your skirt, bunching it up around your waist before one of them sunk between your legs, palming at you through the flimsy fabric of your underwear. He moaned against your lips, the heel of his hand rubbing at your clit while his fingers gently massaged your pussy, your hips jolted toward the touch, a whine escaping your lips before you nipped at his.

A smirk broke out on his lips at your neediness and he nudged your panties to the side, fingers running through your folds, collecting your wetness before rubbing at your clit. You broke the kiss with a gasp, your forehead resting on his as you panted, whimpers and quiet moans coming from your lips.

“Please…” you murmured, your eyes fluttering shut at the way he was toying with you and he swiftly slid two fingers into your pussy, letting out a groan as he did so.

“Fuck sweetheart.” He cooed, “you’re so wet.” His fingers began lazily pumping, the heel of his hand still brushing over your swollen clit with each thrust.

“What did I say about teasing?” You grumbled, a hand sinking between your bodies to palm at his cock through his pants and he let out a hiss, his fingers curling inside you. Your breath caught in your throat, hips grinding down into his touch.

“Have to warm you up honey…” he groaned softly, rocking his hips into your hand, “don’t want to hurt you.”

You could only manage a noncoherent string of words, muffled by his shoulder as your head fell forward when his fingers curled inside you again, hitting your g-spot on the first try. Your pussy began to flutter around him as he scissored and curled his fingers, your juices leaking down his wrist. His free hand began to paw at the neckline of your shirt, pulling it down just enough to pull your tits out and his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth and you let out a moan, your head falling back onto the wall behind you. The hand Aaron had inside you picked up the pace, thrusting deeper into you, wet sounds from your pussy accompanying your quiet moans while your thighs trembled. Your hands shot to his belt, quickly undoing it in order to actually get into his pants and he groaned against your skin when your hand rubbed at his cock through his briefs, the leaking beads of pre-cum smearing against the fabric. Your fingers slid into the waistband of his briefs, shoving them and his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free and his teeth sunk into the curve of your chest as the cool air sent a shiver of pleasure through his body.

“This feels dirty.” You muttered, palming at his length and he chuckled, finally pulling away from your chest as his fingers continued to stretch you out. A piece of his normally styled hair fell forward over his forehead as he glanced down at you with dark eyes, his breath hot on your lips when he spoke.

“That’s because it is.”

“Then hurry up and fuck me already.” You groaned, your body jolting as he curled his fingers once more before pulling them out of your cunt and you let out a whine, grabbing his wrist to suck his fingers into your mouth, tongue lapping around them to get all your juices off.

“Fuck..” Aaron felt any coherent thought leave his brain as his cock throbbed, your eyes not leaving his until your lips parted with a gasp and you let his fingers drop from your mouth and he was able to surge forward, capturing you in a kiss, tongue diving into your mouth in an attempt to taste you. “I don’t have a condom.” He murmured against your lips and your leg wound around his waist again, grinding your pussy against his pulsing cock.

“I don’t fucking care.”

That was all he needed to wrap a hand around his cock, lining it up with your soaked pussy before thrusting forward and sinking fully into you. Your legs eagerly wrapped around his waist as he shoved you into the wall, hips meeting yours as his head buried into the crook of your neck, your cunt already fluttering around him.

“Fuck…” The swear was mutual, you’d never felt so full and stretched out as you were around him, his cock reaching deeper inside you than you’d ever imagined. You were so wet, so warm, Aaron felt like he could combust in that exact moment, but he knew he wanted to feel you for so much longer.

Reluctantly, he pulled out until just the tip was still wrapped in your pussy and set a steady pace fucking you against the wall, knowing neither of you really had that much time. Your whimpers and moans right in his ear were more than enough to drive him wild, picking up the pace, feeling the way your cunt was squeezing around him with each thrust. Your hands clawed at his back, one wrapping around the back of his head, fingers threading through his previously perfectly styled hair. Your lips latched onto the side of his neck directly below his ear, the only visible spot of skin in that area, leaving sticky kisses. In any other moment he’d be worried about the shade of your lipstick transferring to his collar but right now all he could think about was how your pussy felt wrapped around him.

Each thrust of Aaron’s hips you could feel every ridge and vein of his cock dragging over your walls, every time you squeezed around him you could feel him twitch inside you and it drove you wild. He started to grope at your chest again and your head fell back against the wall, thighs trembling around his waist.

“Fuck that feels good.” You murmured, and he fucked into you harder, his hips snapping into yours and you nearly let out a yelp.

“Quiet pretty girl.” He panted, his hand quickly clapping over your mouth, “can’t have anyone know what we’re up to.”

You nodded the best you could, your moans and whines now muffled by his large hand, your breath hot on his fingers. The sensation made his dick twitch inside you, a low swear on his breath when your lips began to kiss at his hand, your tongue surging out, wrapping around one of the digits and pulling it into your mouth. Aaron knew he wasn’t going to last very long with the way you were sucking on his fingers, your moans muffled around them while he fucked deeper into you, his cock absolutely throbbing while your thighs gripped around his waist tighter. His free hand sunk between your bodies, finding your clit and beginning to rub, your teeth scraped against his fingers when he increased the pressure, matching the speed of his thrusts.

Your pussy clenched down around his cock, juices smearing around him with each pass of his fingers and your head dropped against the wall again. Pleasure was shooting through you and if it wasn’t for his hand covering your mouth you were certain the entire floor would know exactly what you were up to. Aaron had you seeing stars already, your body shivering between his and the wall before he nipped at your earlobe,

“Gonna need you to come for me gorgeous.” He panted, his brow slick with sweat, doing his best to hold back his own orgasm until he’d made you come around his cock.

“Fuck!” It came out the best it could under his hand while your body convulsed, thighs gripping incredibly tight around his waist as your back arched off the wall, pussy pulsing around his cock.

Aaron fucked you through you orgasm, slowing the pace of his hips until you were no longer shaking in his arms and one of your legs dropped from around his waist and you started to relax against the wall. A second later and he was slipping out of you, spinning you in his arms to bend you over the table in the center of the room.

A moan broke free from the back of your throat as he re-entered you, his cock a throbbing mess, coated in your cum as he began to chase his own orgasm. A hand tangled into your hair, pulling you up off the table and flush to his chest.

“God you feel so good.” He grunted and you chuckled softly.

“Yeah?” You asked, head turning back to husk into his ear, “you like that Hotchner? The way your thick cock feels buried deep in my wet pussy?” You squeezed as hard as you could around him and he let out a hiss.

“Fuck.” The hand in your hair tightened, “do that again and I’m gonna come.”

“Yeah?” You purred, squeezing your cunt around him once more, holding it for longer as you felt him beginning to pulse inside you, “come for me Aaron, fill my pretty pussy up with your cum.”

“Shit!” His hips faltered against yours as his grip on you loosened and you barely caught yourself on the table as he pounded the last couple of thrusts into you before he let out a low groan, stilling against you.

A very satisfied sigh left your lips at the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you while his cum painted your walls. Aaron was careful, catching his breath as he squeezed at the base of his dick, making sure every last drop of cum was buried deep in your cunt before he slowly slipped out. Part of him was tempted to see if any of it dripped down your thighs, but he was starting to come back to his senses, tucking your panties back into place, pressing them against your swollen pussy lips to catch all of his release.

“You alright?” He asked, his hand soothing up your back, readjusting your skirt before he tucked himself back into his pants.

“Never better.” You replied with a sigh, pushing yourself back upright. Confident you were no longer on shaky legs you stepped over to the mirror, tugging your shirt back into place, fixing your hair and slightly smeared lipstick.

“Here.” Aaron handed you a paper cup of water from the water cooler and you chuckled.

“Such a gentleman.” You teased, taking a sip before reaching up, fixing his mussed up hair and wiping the remnants of your lipstick from his collar. You were about to tease him again when your phone pinged a couple of times and you pulled it out from your bag, “jury’s back. Guess now we’ll find out who really came out on top.”

Shooting him a wink you were gone from the room before he even managed to fully collect himself and his thoughts, slipping back into the courtroom and behind his respective table just in time. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised twenty minutes later when the jury came back fully in favour of you and you were looking over at him with a cocky smirk as everyone packed their things up.

“Well,” he stepped to your side of the room once you were up, “congratulations counselor.” He stuck his hand out for you to shake and you took it after a small laugh, “can I buy you a celebratory drink?”

“Oh Hotchner.” You chuckled, stepping closer to him, “you know the general guideline is that you’re supposed to buy the drink prior to when your cum is dripping out of my cunt.”

“So is that a yes?”

“I seem to remember telling you that was a one time thing.”

Part 2

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@svushots @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @emobabeyy @daddy-heather-dunbar @mrs-ssa-hotch @hotchandspencearedilfs @mina2000alex @telepathay @darlingsfandom @ssamorganhotchner @hotchsdoormat @hopedoesntknow @thehauntingofbasingse @plaidbooks @niyizh @tommyriddleobsessed @supercriminalbean @hotchs-bitch @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @emlynblack @ivyflowers13 @ratsnestinmyhair @silversprings-mp3 @ssaaaronhotchnerr @itsrainingreid @speedynana @tgskitten @madamsnape921 @aaronandemilysbitch @mrs-ssa-hotch @nachofriess @khxna @tinyprettyangel @cx-emerald-cx x @momily @acctualdeemon @ch3rry-pops @moonlightjxuregui @int4n @hotchfiles

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #once #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfic

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dearanakin · 1 year ago

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"Unspoken Desire" - Eddie Munson x Best Friend! Female Reader

Summary: You and Eddie made a bet and he wants you to pay it with a kiss. Turns out, kissing your best friend for losing a bet leads you into something else.

Note: I know no one asked me but I had this sudden idea of writing something quick to read.

Warning: SMUTTTTT, cursing, mention of kink, unprotected sex, kissing. +18 DNI.

Word count: ~2.1k

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, and Eddie and you had decided to spend the day together at the local park. You sat on a bench, sharing a bag of potato chips as you watched kids playing on the nearby swings.

Eddie grinned mischievously and reached for the last chip in the bag. "You know, (Y/N), I've been thinking."

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be uninterested. "Thinking? Dangerous territory, Eddie. What's on your mind?".

Eddie leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. "Well, I can't help but notice that you owe me something". You feigned innocence, tilting you head. "Owe you? For what, exactly?"

Eddie's eyes sparkled with amusement. "For that bet we made last week, remember?". You chuckled, recalling the bet you had made about who could eat the spiciest chili at the local food festival.

"Oh, that bet? You're not still upset about losing, are you?". Eddie's grin widened. "Upset? Nah, I just think it's time you pay up."

You crossed your arms, a playful glint in your eyes. "And what do you want as your prize, Munson?". Eddie leaned even closer, your faces almost touching.

"A kiss, (Y/N). One spicy, victorious kiss." You pretended to ponder this for a moment.

"Hmm, a kiss for a bag of chips? Seems like a fair trade". Just as you were about to share a kiss, a group of kids on the swings erupted into giggles and shouted.

"Ewww, cooties!", Eddie and you burst into laughter, pulling away from each other. Eddie winked at you, the teasing still in his eyes.

"Well, it looks like the playground jury has spoken. Next time, (Y/N), next time". You grinned back, feeling grateful for moments like these with your best friend. "You're impossible, Eddie".

As the sun began its slow descent below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue across the landscape, you and Munson decided to go home. You grabbed a ride back with him in his van, having a conversation about random things while Van Halen was playing on the radio.

As he pulled by your driveway, he turns off the engine of his vehicle as you both sat in comfortable silence for a moment, savoring the end of the afternoon.

"Once again, safe and sound", he says as he rests his elbow on the steering wheel.

"Thanks again, Eddie", you respond as you get rid of the seat belt. "Oh, by the way. Are still on that bet?", you ask teasingly. You watch as he grins at your question, letting out an amused chuckle.

"If you're still okay with that, yeah". He says as he gets rid of his own seat belt, moving his torso to have a better look at you.

Edie's hand, strong and reassuring, gently cradled your face. His thumb traced your jawline, and your eyes locked in a shared moment of understanding and longing. The air was thick with anticipation as he leaned closer, your breaths coming faster and shallower.

With a whispered promise in his eyes, Eddie closed the remaining distance. Your lips met in a slow, tantalizing kiss. It began with a feather-light touch, a delicate exploration of each other's desires. Your mouths moved in perfect harmony, a dance of passion that deepened with each passing second.

Eddie's other hand found your lower back, pulling you closer as the kiss intensified. Your bodies pressed together, as you reached out for his curls, tangling your fingers against it.

In that stolen moment, time seemed to stand still. Your kiss was a symphony of desire, a silent conversation of longing and affection. The tip of his tongue started to swirl around yours and you couldn't help but let out a small groan against his plump lips.

You felt him smirk between the kiss, as he gritted your lower lip with his teeth before finishing it. You both broke the kiss and looked at each other with a slight hint of fun, even after a moment of intimacy.

"Wow, that was actually better than I expected", Munson said, resting his forehead against yours. You laugh softly and bite your lip.

"I just happen to be a good kisser", you play along, listening to his sweet laugh as he snorted.

"And you're also very cocky", he retorts with a side smile on his face. You only then noticed how hot you felt for him and how good he actually made you feel about just a kiss. It was supposed to be a playful one, but it ended up being way more than that.

Eddie cast a glance at you, who was still holding a hard stare at him and at his plump lips. You felt a sense of connection and understanding passed between you two, as if your souls were speaking in a language only you could comprehend.

"So, you wanna come in?", you ask timidly and watch him nod, already opening the van's door before he pulled himself out. He walked around the car to reach your side of the door, opening it for you.

He was always gentle, even when you were actually mad at him for something, or even after you argue about some nonsense. You knew Munson was a whore, because he would hook up with one girl after another on the same night and still brag about it.

You were never one to really feel interested about him, but in that case, his kiss ended up setting something up inside your guts you still didn't quite figure out. You walked in, turning the lights on as he made himself home.

Before you could even lock the door from the inside, he pinned you against it, leaning in and closing the gap between you. Your lips met in a gentle, yet electrifying kiss again. This time it was quick, but still with a passionate exploration.

Eddie's hand cupped your cheek, his fingers tenderly caressing the soft skin. Your arms encircled him, pulling him closer as your bodies pressed together against the door. He didn't hold back a husky groan as he thrusted his hip against your heated core and made you whimper.

"Oh, Eddie. You're about to ruin this friendship", you whispered. Before he could respond to you, he pressed his hips firmly against yours once more and chuckled against your mouth.

"Baby, if anything we're only making it become more entertaining". It was the tone he used and the sudden pet name that threw you off, making you pull him by the collar of his shirt as you rush to the couch.

You pushed him to sit on it as you turned the stereo on before doing a little strip for him. You were never ashamed of your showing body whenever you were at the pool or something related to that, but he probably never saw you in your lingerie all those years.

He widened his chocolate brown eyes to his sight, analyzing every inch of your bare skin, like your chest, neck and stomach. He helped you unzip your jeans, lowering the fabric as you kicked it off.

His big hand and calloused fingers grabbed both your thighs with tenderness, while he spread wide kisses across your body, lingering with his touch as he felt you shiver under his lips. You didn't want your body to react to him that easily, especially because he knows the effect he has on women in general.

Eddie got rid of his shirt and worked on his jeans pretty fast, showing you a glimpse of his hardened cunt pressed against his boxer. You know what you were about to do but, even then, you didn't feel like you wouldn't regret it.

You made him rest his back against the furniture as you leaned forward and sat between his legs, both knees on each side. You were still exchanging a heated gaze and you felt like you were about to lose your damn mind just feeling the way his skin grasped your ass.

His both big veiny hands squeezed your ass while you wrapped your arms around his neck. Placing a soft, but spicy, kiss just between his earlobe.

You heard him hiss, fanning your hair in a low and desperate breath, while his hands gripped tighter on you. "Fuck's sake, stop torturing me", he pleaded, his cock twitching under your core. You chuckled before sliding one hand down his stomach, finally pulling his aching dick out of the fabric.

The red, throbbing length was already glistening with precum and you slightly squeezed it between your hands, giving him a few seconds of relieve. It turns out you weren't bothered by not taking the lingerie off as you just slid your panties to the side, before aligning yourself with his cock.

Munson was still holding a gaze at you, trying to bite his moans from coming off of his mouth, enjoying the way you were lustfully looking at him as you rubbed his tip against your folds.

You were always one to never hide your emotions through sex, you would always be too loud, moan a lot and almost faint from breathing too fast.

The way his mushroom head entered you made you arch your back, and Eddie just about did the same, throwing his head back squinting his eyes shut from the pleasure that was attacking his entire body.

You made your way down on him fully and almost choked on the size, his cock spreading your walls slightly, burning it. You leaned yourself against him and grabbed his face with both hands, bringing him closer to you so you would kiss him.

It was a sloppy kiss as you were both moaning and gasping from the pleasure. He slid one of his arm around your waist, resting his palm against your lower back, while using the other hand to unclasp your bra.

The sudden rubbing of your nipples against his chest made him pound harder and hit your sweet spot. "Fuck, why haven't we done this before?", he mumbled while gripping your skin. You started riding him faster, trying to keep your pace but you were clenching too tight around him.

"I have no idea", you slurred, trying to formulate the words coming out of your mouth. He suddenly pulled a handful of your hair and assaulted your neck, leaving sloppy kisses, glittering the skin against his teeth, making you mewl his name.

"You love it rough, huh?", he teased against your ear, his tone just above a whisper. Munson felt your cunt tightening his cock and cursed under his breath. You could feel as he was chuckling from your response.

"Y-Yes", you say, biting your bottom lip. You meet his eyes for a moment and notice they hold both lust and kindness at the same time. He could be the most sluttest slut but he definitely was gentle, especially with you.

"Holy shit, baby. You're really tight, you're ruining me", Eddie cried out, squeezing your ass between his hands as he pumped inside of you. If he kept doing that for the next minute, you're going to hit your climax in a record time.

You're in between looking at him and closing your eyes enjoying your moment, as you keep riding him, rocking your thigh against his so perfectly. He can't stop curling his toes from the sensation you're giving him, and he placed one hand on your neck, his thumb pressed against your lower lip.

He doesn't mean it to be really sexual, but as a result, you use his digit as a lollipop and it pulls him out of his own bliss as he stares at you, eyes widened and brows furrowed. It gives him motivation to thrust against your core so hard you gasp between his finger.

"Jesus fuck you're so fucking hot", Munson grunts at the sight. It makes him hornier and hungrier for you. His dick is about to explode inside you and he didn't have time to warn you about that.

It was supposed to take longer than that, but the way you were sucking on his finger and displaying an erotic figure made him burst out. "Shit", he hisses.

You feel his hips stuttering under you, his cum warming your walls and you feel lightheaded, the shockwave of pleasure hitting you so strong and so fast you throw your head back. Eddie holds you tight and feel his length throb inside you with your reaction.

You're both panting loudly, staring at each other peacefully. You're still sitting on his lap, your cunt holding him lazily. Eddie pulls you for a tender kiss, licking your lips before pecking them for a slight second.

"What were you talking about ruined friendship?", he mocked. You both just knew it wasn't ruined. You felt too comfortable around him, and he felt too cozy under you, thinking to himself about the beautiful view he was having.

"I think we should make another bet", you retorted playfully, smiling at him. He wrapped both arms around you and rolled you over your couch, standing above you with a taunting grin on his face before he pulled you in for a passionate kiss.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things #userashe #usermaguire #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut fic

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multifandomme · 24 days ago

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Consolation Prize

Pairing: Casey Novak x Female Reader

Summary: Checking on Casey after the loss of a trial leads to a rather risky sexual encounter. Based on this anon request and also this one..

Genre: Smut, (semi-public, oral sex, fingering, pet names, praise, edging, workplace sex, hair-pulling, brief mention of cases, almost getting caught), not suitable for minors.

Word Count: 2k.

This piece is for day 18 of kinktober.

More works from me here. || Masterlist here. || Kinktober 2024 Masterlist here.

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“And how do you, the jury, find the defendant on the count of aggravated sexual assault in the first degree?”

The tension was rife, suffocating almost. Casey regarded you with her green eyes teeming with uncertainty, the stress that cloaked her forcing her shoulders upwards, boxy. It was unlike Casey to be so visibly perturbed, her breath caught in her lungs as the silence persisted.

“Not guilty, Your Honour,” the foreman spoke, the revelation inciting a varied response, Casey’s jaw tugged into flexion.

You wondered whether sleeping together had contributed to her defeat, left brooding over the possibility that it had gone some way in sabotaging her. But Casey was always so meticulous, so composed, nothing ever important enough to shake her from her focus. Throughout the trial, you had noticed a discernible change, her demeanour far less callous, your client able to navigate freely through the usual barrage of loaded remarks. And aside from a few particularly probing questions, Casey had remained strangely benign.

The elation from your victory had yet to set in, Casey’s pensive expression calling you into a state of collectedness. You wanted to gloat, to shell her with jibes, to upturn your lips in the smuggest of smiles, knowing that if the roles were reversed you would already be taking her verbal beatings. But something inside of you cautioned against it.

Casey’s fingers sorted through the deconstructed reams that splayed her desk, a palpable sense of disappointment blossoming in the chasm between you. And she must have subconsciously noted the intensity of your glare upon her, a forceful sigh falling from her, a nod of acknowledgement thrown towards your triumph. This subtle, unspoken congratulations was enough to release butterflies into the depths of your stomach, the magnetism that existed between you too much to bear as you moseyed over to where she stood.

“No hard feelings, Miss Novak,” you offered, half-questioningly, your hand outstretched in the hopes of being amiably received.

Truthfully, there was nothing amiable about it, an emphatic spark of passion coursing the second those glistening green orbs locked onto you. An understated simper ripped at her mouth, chewed away by her teeth nipping at her lips, a look of careful consideration clouding to detract from the truth that lurked below.

“For now,” Casey concurred, a hint of jest marked in her cadence, her hand merging with yours, “I know you’ll find a way to make it up to me.”

You didn’t want to let her free of your grasp, nor relinquish to the sea of people that were inevitable to pull her away with the tide. But as soon as this realisation had set in, the contact dwindled and Casey had vanished, the warmth of her touch replaced with cold air, with emptiness.

“I guess I’ll see you soon,” you concluded, your voice lost amongst the post-verdict chaos of incessant footsteps, swinging doors and loudened chatter.

And while it was customary to revel in such a victory with the rest of the defence team after you had closed a case, your mind was plagued only by Casey. So, you ran to her, bounding through the streets, briefcase and all, revitalised by the surging excitement.

The fatigue from all of the late nights drowning in litigation documents faded the moment you cast your gaze upon Casey. Through the cracks in the blinds of her office you could feel the gloom permeating outwards, a restless hand sifting through golden strands. When she eventually heeded your presence, your head craning into the room, a tiny smirk began to etch itself into her lips.

“Come to gloat?” She asked, her suspicion piqued, “I’ve heard it isn’t as fun on the receiving end.”

A chortle brewed inside of you, shoved aside by your growing desire to close the space, advancing until your frame loomed over her. Casey sunk deeper into the plush leather, eyes twinkling as she stared up at you, only to flicker when she felt you draw into her, nearer. The tension rose and lingered, your lips grazing hers in the most fragile of meetings, careful as not to exacerbate the carnal urges that threatened to surface.

Maybe it was too late.

“Of course not,” you assured, grappling with your inner need to taste her again, but retracting nonetheless, “I suppose I just wanted to check in on you.”

“You thought I’d be drowning in my sorrows,” Casey guessed with a hum of amusement, her finger tracing tantalisingly over the buttons of your shirt.

A bursting exhale flung out from you, soon to be passed off as nervous laughter, your face afflicted by an enveloping heat. You were certain that you were hued in pink, or worse, a striking crimson, this assumption only confirmed when Casey’s teeth bared in satisfaction.

“Perhaps,” you spoke, the embarrassment so entrenched that you could not rattle free of it, your insides churning, “Well, I can see that you’re not, so I should probably-“

“No,” Casey interrupted, explicit in her refutal, her irises dark, haunting. “I’m actually glad that you’re here.”

The chance to pose a question was subsequently stolen, her hands quick to find your face and pry you back to her. Casey's lips soundlessly disclosed everything that she had wanted to say, her tongue breaching your mouth with zeal, stifled gasps escaping her. It was a feeling so otherworldly that you could not begin to describe it, engrossed in the lips that seared against you, in the saliva she licked into you.

“I have something for you,” Casey husked, her words occluded by the emergence of your hungry mouth on hers again, control sliding from your grasp. “Down.”

The command had caught you completely off guard until it was punctuated by the sound of clicking, her finger pointing to the small space beneath her desk. Her kiss had served its purpose of enthralling you, stripping you entirely of the wherewithal to rebut her, with no choice but to abide.

“Is this what I get for winning the case?” You questioned, ardor trilling, Casey’s hand’s peeling at the pencil skirt that clung to her curves until it roped up around her waist. “My reward?”

Casey scoffed aloud, her lips pursed as a means of shelving the laughter that rumbled. The familiar sense of humiliation washed over you once more, heightened only by your position of entrapment, dark wood lapping at your periphery, sage-coloured lace inches from your face. Forging an attempt at an escape was simply unviable, hunkered over, the soft scent of her slowly invading you until it anchored you in place.

“You think this is for you?” Casey queried, an eyebrow quirking in disbelief, almost as if she was surprised that you hadn’t yet cottoned on to her plan. “Oh, baby,” she cooed, and the sweetness of the sound made you ache. “This is my consolation prize. It’s only fair, hm?”

The beginnings of a moan awakened inside of you, thwarted by the sudden force of hands on your head, willing you closer until the noise withered against her pussy.

��And make it fast, baby,” Casey insisted, a gasp eliciting from her the second your tongue flattened against her clit through her panties. “We can’t risk any… fuck-anyone catching us.”

And the way in which her words wavered so delicately had you tearing the lace away with your teeth, your tongue curling into her arousal in a bid to drown in the taste of her. It was beyond addiction, beyond insanity, her pussy twitching below your gentle exertions, her thighs rigid as they clamped around your skull. You writhed to slacken her grip, desperate to hear every groan, every expletive, every shaky breath that expelled from her.

“I’m in love with your mouth,” Casey divulged, breathless, impatient, sharp fingernails scrawling lines onto your scalp and roughly enough to evoke a grimace. “No, baby, don’t stop.”

You wouldn’t dream of it.

Casey bowed her hips from the chair, her pussy slamming into your face as you lapped avidly at her clit. Her arousal dripped from your chin as you drank in as much as you could, burying your tongue deep inside of her only to feel her walls flinching at the sneaky invasion.

“Yes, good girl,” she coaxed, a blanked out state gradually setting in, the fingers in your hair indicating an imminent collapse, her thighs squeezing your head with formidable force. “So good,” she whimpered, pathetically, “so fucking close.”

And then, the tinkling of knuckles against the glass window, the sudden purging of you from her body as she squished you further under the desk. Your eyes lifted quickly, observing as Casey wrangled to conceal her flustered state, her cheeks rosy, breath trembling as she tugged at her skirt.

“Sorry about the case, kid,” a voice emerged, footsteps lurking on the opposite side of the wood, so close to you that the sound seemed to thud in your ears. “Can’t win ‘em all, right?”

Casey’s expression was riddled with discontent, each passing second only chasing away the last traces of pleasure until it completely plateaued.

“Yeah, I’ll get over it,” Casey responded, nonchalantly, her fingers interlaced as she settled them atop the desk, hoping this display of normalcy was enough to convince the unwanted visitor, “or I’ll get him next time. Whatever comes first.”

Daringly, you crept forward, your lips seeking out her clit once more just to bask in the way she wriggled. Her palms flocked to hide her face, a pained whine blurting from her lips, a flitting glare shot towards you.

“You good, Novak?”

Casey nodded, swallowing the whimpers that were sure to incriminate her. “Splitting migraine,” she breathed, her lips paled as she clamped them together, “caffeine overload no… d-doubt.”

The heel of her shoe stabbed out in a valiant attempt at deterring you, though you opted for ignorance, rolling your tongue relentlessly against the swollen bud of her clit. Casey kicked again, this time landing a jab to your gut, a taunting bite sinking itself into her pussy and inducing a grunt from her.

“You know, a few of us are going to grab a drink if you’re interested?” The voice came again, unshaken by Casey’s blatant dismissal.

Casey merely groaned out and prodded her digits into her temples feigning pain, each grumbling response concealed as you smirked into her pussy, her arousal brimming in abundance.

“Maybe next time,” Casey uttered, faintly, her eyes pleading to be left alone, the footsteps finally fading out.

“Fuck you,” Casey flared, reignited with a lust unmatched, her hips gyrating methodically, steadfast in her quest for relief. “Finish the job,” she demanded, “you’ll pay for what you did later.”

Two fingers joined the effort, pounding into her with an undeniable sense of urgency, the sound of slick prevailing, Casey’s shameless whimpers spurring you to quicken the pace. Your jaw ached, her clit secure below your flickering tongue, the familiar sting of hair being yanked from your scalp occurring.

“Oh, yes, baby,” Casey gushed, eyes glazed over as she regarded you from above, her pupils blown, expanding. “Fuck me just like that, please,” she implored, her resolve finally within arm’s reach, edging into attainability. “Baby!”

You disengaged from her slowly, her body left shuddering in the wake of her orgasm, the tiniest fleck of anger stirring in her eyes.

“I hate you,” she spat, the irony of your position causing a giggle to emerge, Casey trying hard to hold back a smile of her own.

“Well, you got your consolation prize,” you shrugged, manoeuvring out from below the desk just to have her cinch you with force, your throat confined within her hand.

She hummed with glee as you struggled for breath, her tongue teasing against your lower lip and procuring the faintest of gasps from you.

“I did,” she pondered, her free hand lowering until your pussy found itself in her possession, at the mercy of wandering fingers. “And now, I get my revenge.”

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#law and order svu #casey novak #casey novak x reader #casey novak x you #casey novak smut #law and order fanfiction #law and order special victims unit #l&o svu

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theblindninja · 11 days ago

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Junichi Okada and Hidetoshi Nishijima in Samurai's Promise (2018)

Based on novel "Chiri Tsubaki" by Rin Hamuro

Movie won the "Special Grand Jury Prize" at the 42nd Montreal World Film Festival.

#samurai #samura movie #ronin #Samurai's Promise

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chaos-of-the-abyss · 11 months ago

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akio and the coffin

it’s fascinating how akio both literally IS the coffin of ohtori academy and, simultaneously, is trapped by it. ohtori academy is in many ways a manifestation of the ugly side of adolescence, of clinging on to something in your past and refusing to move forward in your life. every character has something they continue to hold on to despite the fact that they ought to let it go for the sake of growing and maturing. for example, saionji has his inferiority complex regarding touga, his refusal to let go of the simplicity of their childhood together when he felt that they stood on the same ground, and that touga saw him as an equal. everything he does in the series is an attempt to make himself feel as though he is finally on equal grounds with touga. if he would only stop tying his self-image to the perception that touga is somehow above him, that touga looks down on him, then he would be able to let go of that sense of inferiority and move on. but he can’t. juri refuses to let go of the pain she feels regarding her past with shiori, and continues to see shiori as someone who is “innocent”, albeit cruelly - someone who is unknowing of the pain she causes juri through her actions when in fact, shiori in seducing the boy she thought juri loved was deliberately acting to hurt her. if juri would only realize and accept the true intentions behind shiori’s behavior, then she could get one step closer to understanding shiori, to being understood by her, and moving past the pain of shiori’s betrayal. but she can’t.

most of the characters, except utena and anthy of course, remain in ohtori by the end of the show. while they’ve all made progress in “maturing” thanks to the events they experienced throughout the series - both saionji and touga’s as well as juri and shiori’s relationships have gotten visibly better, as shown in the final medley of scenes - they still have more growing to do, hence why they remain in ohtori academy until their time comes. one day, the show suggests, they might also revolutionize their own worlds - their own selves - and finally leave the coffin of ohtori behind as well.

so where does that leave akio? i think he can be said to literally be the coffin of ohtori in that he is explicitly shown to try to manipulate others into remaining stagnant, to clinging on to whatever toxic things they are struggling to process and come to terms with, though this is of course only shown via the characters he most directly interacts with. naturally it comes across most clearly with anthy, although i think utena and to a less direct extent, touga, are the other two people who are the most straightforwardly influenced by him. when it comes to anthy, she clings to her love for the person her brother used to be, the older brother who, at least as she perceived, was kind and caring and wanted to protect people. to protect that older brother, she willingly took on the hatred of the world, and continues to endure the pain of it to this day for what is implied to be centuries. but akio has shown time and time again, through the repeating dueling cycles, that if he was ever kindhearted and genuinely caring, those parts of him are gone now. i do believe he cares about anthy to an extent even now, but whatever affection he has for her is paltry in comparison to his desire to reclaim his power as prince dios. it’s for that purpose that he set up the entire dueling system, for which he freely allows duelists to treat anthy like a prize and an object. and additionally, because anthy is so integral to the power he has now in ohtori, he uses emotional, psychological, physical, and sexual abuse to keep her tied to him. he’s willing to not just let her wellbeing come last, but puts it at the bottom of the list of priorities, and actively tears it down himself for his own benefit. anthy knows all this - but because she still holds onto that love that she had for who he used to be, she stays with him and does his bidding. and that’s what akio wants. he is the coffin, wishing to keep people in their states of despair, conflict, and pain, therefore ensuring that they are compliant and vulnerable to his manipulation.

at the same time, akio is trapped by the coffin like everyone else. he, like all the other characters, has something that he ought to move on from for his own sake as well as the sake of the people around him: his goal to reclaim his powers as prince dios. akio has failed in this goal every single dueling cycle that happened before the show’s events, and as displayed in the final episode, he definitively fails the one that takes place during the show as well. he can attempt the cycle over and over and over again, redo and tweak and modify the dueling system however many times and in whatever ways he wants - it’s all useless. there is no sword that can break open the rose gate. there is no way to reclaim his powers. they’re gone, that part of his life is over, and if he accepted that fact, it would allow him to move on and heal from what he experienced. but he can’t. at the very end of the series, right before anthy leaves ohtori for good, he’s typing away just as diligently as he ever did and, completely oblivious, tells anthy that he’s rewriting the rules of the rose crest, that he’ll be counting on her again. and i didn’t pick up on this until rewatching the episode, but it really just hits you then how utterly stupid he looks, working so hard and speaking so confidently about the upcoming dueling cycles as if any of them are ever going to matter in the slightest. i love anthy’s response to him too; i love the subtle but at the same time so blatant scorn in her words: “you really don’t know what’s happened, do you?” because once again, throughout all this, akio has learned nothing. he hasn’t realized it’s useless, what he’s trying to do; he hasn’t realized all the effort and pain and anguish he’ll cause in people for yet another dueling cycle will never make any difference. he is unable to come to terms with the reality that he will never have his powers as prince dios back. he refuses to move on.

akio is the coffin of ohtori, wanting to keep others in stagnation and regret. he’s also trapped by the coffin, incapable of maturing past his own stagnation and regret. and it really, really says something that all of the other major characters of the show, who have been in ohtori for far shorter a time than he has, have been able to make visible strides in their growth. anthy, who is the only one comparable to akio in terms of duration at ohtori, revolutionizes her world and leaves. meanwhile akio, as deluded and self-unaware as he is, hasn’t made a single step of progress in all this time. the only thing he does is call in bewildered desperation after anthy as she finally leaves him behind, still totally clueless as to what has happened.

tldr; i once saw an author say one of her characters represents inertia, in fact he is inertia. i think that’s a spot-on explanation of akio, at least in terms of what he symbolizes in the story. i want to beat him in the dick with a cactus

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allwormdiet · 2 months ago

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Worm Cast Impressions (Arcs 1 to 7)

Easy money says some of these characters are about to fucking die so I'm pausing now to jot down my impressions of everybody who's managed to make an impact (and one or two characters whose lack of impact is kind of impressive)

Undersiders

Taylor Hebert: Character of all time. Simultaneously sanest and least sane person in the entire universe. Deeply concerned about keeping hold of her moral core, constantly innovating in ways to inflict violence on her enemies real and imagined. Has never fully finished thinking her actions through once in her entire life, people keep thinking she's the most cautious girl they know. Her first kiss was partly because she liked the boy and partly because she wanted to piss off her bully. I am cheering for her more often than not and I am so scared of what this story is going to do to her.

Brian Laborn: I want to study him in a lab. Team leader entirely by default, as near as I can tell. Hates using violence as a means of control, really good at using violence as a means of control, seems to default to using violence as a means of control when he's upset. I don't think he's normal about women. Desperately trying to be so so so boring, thinks he's perfectly rational even though he is just as unhinged as his teammates, I suspect that he has built a mental prison with twenty layers of protection around all thoughts that would suggest he is anything other than Normal and Strong and Reliable. Maybe turned on by efficient displays of violence?

Lisa Wilbourn: She is so charming and I am so scared of what's actually going on in her head. I think Taylor's best friend but definitely her biggest enabler. Stop lying and let me know what is going on in your head, I know more about Alec and Rachel than I know about you. Concerned that she's only nominally concerned about Coil being a heinous fucker. Desperately hoping the air can be cleared so I stop worrying about whether she's going to destroy Taylor or something. She has to know Taylor is a wannabe hero.

Alec: The fact that he's really only done one thing that I consider morally in the wrong is kind of incredible when looking at the fact that he's a recovering sex cult enforcer who started living something approaching a normal human life as a homeless preteen. He's had three years to jury rig a sense of humanity and morality mostly on his own and the end result is a selfish lazy jerk, and yet the fact that this is what he's managed to come up with on his own is, without sarcasm, worthy of a fucking prize. He's actually really good at this all things considered. Actually a little bummed that he didn't oppose Coil for the whole Dinah creepfest.

Rachel Lindt: Rachel Lindt is maybe the best character so far. Autistic dog girl who only tolerates human society so she can better feed and care for her animals. I'd say something like "I'd kill for her" but there's no way I could do that any better than her dogs and she'd call me stupid. Only thing against her at this point is the slur usage, which is rough to deal with, but I suspect part of that is just being written in 2011.

Loved Ones

Danny Hebert: You sad bastard. Please survive long enough to reconcile with your daughter. I know he can't provide any material support for the problems his daughter has been dealing with, that the bullies are too well-protected and there's basically nothing that he can do about parahuman shit, but I wish she would allow him to be there for her. Maybe he'd be uncool about it, sure, but maybe not. Makes me sad to think about.

Aisha Laborn: This girl is in dire need of someone to have her back and also, like, pay attention to her; Brian is the closest one to actually doing it but I don't think his best efforts are enough. I know she's gonna be an Undersider in the future so hopefully I get to have a more thorough impression of her, and one that's not marred by the fucking Mercedes metaphor, Jesus Christ that was a rough passage to get through.

Protectorate

Armsmaster: I'd probably like him more if he wasn't so up his own ass about being in charge and earning glory. My suspicion is that he's basically a good guy with some bad habits that nobody can check him on, which has spiraled out of control. Might unironically consider a teenage criminal his nemesis, which is funny but not a great sign of his priorities.

Miss Militia: My prior complaints about her possibly inappropriate response to holding Regent hostage are entirely subsumed by the fact that the last twenty-six years of her life have been lived on terms set by the Protectorate. She was nearly devoured by the machinery of empire and now she's become a component of empire that feeds upon others, and she hasn't even realized it. She never had a goddamn chance.

Velocity: Nothing to really say about him, except there has to have been a way to design his costume so that a teenager with unaugmented strength couldn't take him out with a single blow to the testicles.

Assault and Battery: The name theming feels a bit weird (what, if they got a third would their name be Coercion?) but whatever. I like the idea of a duo with complementary powers, I guess, but there's not really much else here.

Dragon: On the one hand she's in charge of the Birdcage and is friends with Armsmaster, but on the other hand she clearly hates the Birdcage for what it's made her complicit in, and maybe Armsmaster is good to have as a friend. Jury's out, unlike on Canary.

Wards

Gallant: The best way I can think to describe this guy is "blandly nice." It's like if "inoffensive" could be a personality trait. Glory Girl could do better than him, probably, but to be fair she could also do a lot worse.

Clockblocker: I think he's the funny one? Or at least the deliberately unserious one, which is the same thing. The first character confirmed to have developed entomophobia as a result of Skitter, probably not the last. Stopped a bomb from destroying the East Coast which feels like it should get more attention.

Vista: World's most powerful thirteen-year-old. Who deployed her to stop that bomb and fight those Nazis. I want names.

Kid Win: No sense of proportion on this kid, my god. Shooting a laser cannon meant to deal with threats that are theoretically rated higher than Lung into a bank filled with hostages? He's lucky nobody died.

Shadow Stalker: What the actual fuck is going on with her. Who hunts other human beings with broadhead arrows? That's for making someone bleed to death. If she was doing it to the fucking Nazis then that'd be fine, but no, it's Grue and Taylor we've either seen or heard about her getting rough with. Either the Protectorate knows she's a maniac and is letting it rock until she gets herself caught, or else they don't realize what she's doing in which case someone is not doing their job.

Browbeat: Absolute nonentity, to the point it's almost distracting. The description of the bank fight suggests he lost to Regent, which I think means that Regent got close enough to a guy with super strength to knock him out with a taser and didn't get his block knocked off. No wonder the Protectorate wants to trade him out, dude's got nothing going on.

PRT

Director Piggot: I don't like the organization she works for, because the vibes beyond the city level feel rancid, but for Piggot I mostly just sympathize with her. She's trying to corral a bunch of teenagers and adults, who all have some kind of horrific trauma shaping them and also giving them powers that are baseline as dangerous as a fucking gun, into something resembling a fully effective government agency, with no signs of support from the other cities or the higher-ups despite the fact that the literal fucking Nazis have her heroes outnumbered and have apparently had it that way for decades. Let this woman take a vacation or something.

New Wave

Glory Girl: Absolute nerd who seems to love being a superhero, and also making Nazis ragdoll in her spare time. I'd love to end it there, but unfortunately she's got some bad habits; girl desperately needs to kill the cop in her brain and get her impulsiveness under control, the fact that she ragdolled the Nazi on accident and threatened to pull favors in the judicial system to send a first-time offender (and Tattletale) into the Birdcage don't reflect great on her ability to keep a lock on things in high-stress situations.

Panacea: Pathetic girl who is clearly sitting on a pressure cooker of issues. I know what those all are but I'm not going to comment on any of it until we're actually there. For now it's mostly just a pity thing.

Azn Bad Boys

Lung: I was harsh on his characterization at first but I'll admit with time and context I'm not nearly as quick about that. He definitely still sucks, the guy literally murders his lieutenant as a matter of bruised pride and making his life more convenient. Also still cannot shake the feeling that he was basically idling in Brockton Bay for most of his career with the kind of power he has on tap.

Bakuda: She's a monster, but that also kind of oversimplifies things. She's clever, arrogant, grandstanding, and gleefully violent, even as she has the capacity to admire the architecture that another Tinker has crafted and to treat Lung as something resembling a friend. I don't think there's a world where she triggers and is, like, a good person, but I think this was one of the worse lives she could have wound up living. Also, y'know, she's dead.

Empire Eighty-Eight

Kaiser: Rancid smug piece of Nazi shit. Stupid too btw, why are you bothering with street-level robberies and extortion when you own a fucking pharmaceutical corporation? Why are you fighting out in the streets and meeting with other Nazi capes when you could be acting through proxies and bankrolling far-right parahuman cells across the country? Like I'm glad he isn't smart enough to think like that but fuck me.

Purity: Like, actually for real dumb as a bag of hammers. Kaiser barely has to try to wrap her back around his finger and she divorced him; Tattletale barely has to try to get her to back down and she thinks Tattletale exposed her identity to the public. Truly nothing in that skull of hers.

Hookwolf: Nazi capes fuck off

Stormtiger: Nazi capes fuck off

Cricket: Nazi capes fuck off

Rune: Nazi capes fuck off

Night: Nazi capes fuck off

Fog: Nazi capes fuck off

Wait does Coil's gang genuinely not have a name

Coil: Everything about this guy just pisses me the fuck off honestly. He presents himself as some kind of lesser evil, a firm but gentle hand that can guide all facets of the city to a brighter future, but he doesn't have the intelligence or vision to back any of it up; he displays nothing but brute force manipulation tactics involving bribery and blackmail, he's tunnel-visioned and cruel to the point that it ruins his own long-term plans, and before I forget everything about his thing with Dinah gives me fucking hives and I want to beat his skull in with my bare hands. I hope Taylor gets to kill him. Oh, or maybe Dinah.

Nameless sniper: Actively cooler and more competent than Coil.

Travelers

Trickster: genuinely cannot trust a man wearing a top hat in the year 2011, not even as a bit

Sundancer: what the fuck went so wrong with your life that your power is The Fucking Sun

Faultline and Co.

Faultline: Ironically not a super strong read off of her in terms of personality. Seems generally pretty cool going off of how she interacts with and leads her team. Very funny that she has a rivalry with Tattletale.

Newter: Little worried that he's selling his body secretions as a drug to other teenagers but if a parahuman only has one red flag that's pretty good actually

Gregor the Snail: This dude rocks, actually, love the vibes he gives off. Shame that people hate him for being fat and a mutant.

Labyrinth: Would like to see more of her when she's back in reality, otherwise not much to go off of. Cool power.

Other Parahumans

Scion: Fucking creepy

Marquis: probably Panacea's dad, calling that shot.

Paige McAbee: Justice For Paige McAbee.

Dinah Alcott: not really a character yet so much as a particularly horrifying MacGuffin but Jesus Christ what an awful fate

Uber and Leet: Gamers should be more oppressed. Also they beat the shit out of sex workers on a livestream and aren't considered serious enough threats to be consigned to the Birdcage, which feels pretty bad.

Heartbreaker: Haven't even met this guy and he sounds fucking awful. Please god somebody take him down.

Normal Humans

Emma Barnes: I need to understand what's wrong with her. Something happened that gave her the temperament and skillset of a CIA torture technician before freshman year of high school and she turned that onto her best friend for reasons totally unbeknownst to us.

Sophia Hess: I don't know I feel that the one bully who does the most physical harm and acts the most aggressive is the black one. Pretty bad I think. She's also clearly got something going on in her head but tbh that feels like it's going to be more straightforward than whatever is wrong with Emma.

Madison Clements: I feel like she's just here so that Taylor could be bullied without overusing the other two. What's your stake in this? Why do you give a shit? Does it matter? Probably not.

Mr. Gladly: I hated every teacher I ever knew who acted like this and I hate him even more for being utterly useless in protecting a student from blatant harassment. Fuck off.

#wormblr #worm liveblogging #parahumans #cast impressions #checkpoint

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