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c9sneaksen-blog · 8 years ago

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With a Bang

Word Count: 1305 words

Before we go into this fic, I’d like to say my little (and probably somehow convoluted) piece right here! (Because I’m a strong believer in immersion and I think having an Author’s Note at the end of the fic might interfere with that.)

A lot of things have happened in my life, so that’s why I haven’t been pumping out fics as often… and I don’t really think this one is all too great. So please forgive me for being inconsistent!

There are still a lot of fics I’m working on (most of which are very long), so please do not worry– for as long as I can, I’ll stick around and contribute in the only way I know how to one of my most favorite pairings!

2016 was like the Ultimate Cursed Year™, but I believe that with work and dedication and good vibes all around we can make 2017 a really good one! So I just wanted to say, thanks for this platform for me to submit my work to, and thanks to everyone who reads these fics and enjoys them– even if you haven’t got a Tumblr and you’re lurking around. As long as you enjoy them, or it inspires you, or you create something out of what you read– it is the ultimate reward for me.

Okay! With all of that being said… please enjoy, even though it is far from my best work.

—

“But, well, one good thing came out of 2016 for you. For you and for him, you guess. That was pretty good. Right?

Or maybe you didn’t think about all of that. Who knows. It is a tad hard to think straight when you’ve got another dude’s lips on yours.”

—

For a moment, just a moment, you forget that you’re an LCS pro– forget that you’re a famous streamer– forget that you’re on the team that was considered just about NA’s last hope some seasons ago.

For just– just a minute, or two, or three– you can forget all of that and be someone entirely different.

Yes. For a minute, you can put all of that down–

– and be someone’s boyfriend.

“Helloooo?” He taps the side of your neck. You squeak, recoiling from the icy tip of his finger and instantly backing away from him. “Earth to Sneaky?”

“Fucking what, Jensen?”

Today was a day marked with a terrible importance. It was New Year’s Day. It was also your boyfriend’s birthday.

Made a lot of sense. How could the world go on– continue to rotate upon its axis, orbit around the sun, complete another revolution– without Jensen? Could a world even exist without Jensen? You’re not too sure.

Then again, you’re not too sure about many things.

You are really sure of two things right now, though– one of which being that Jensen always fucking gets you when he practically tazes you in the neck.

“Wow, okay, nice microaggression. I was just going to wish you a Happy New Years. Good luck to you and your small dick. My bad.”

“Fuck you, Jensen,” you say, rubbing the cold touch and weird feeling out of your neck, “Happy fucking New Years.”

He shuts your bedroom door behind him with a kick from his leg. It’s kind of funny.

He wraps his slender arms around your waist.

“And?” He murmurs, pulling you in for a tender hug. His voice tickles your ear, rustling the bit of hair near it. You squeal, making some sort of weird noise– you always freak out when he does that. At first, you thought it to just be a consequence of his height– he was a bit shorter than you– but it was times like these that you know now that he totally does that purposely– just to freak you out.

“And…”

“Come the fuck on, Sneaky.”

“Oh, shit,” you go, smiling, your arms completing the hug when you wrap them around his back– your fingers feeling the boniness of his spine– all of the weird little cricks and kinks and spots dotting his back. “I know, I know. Happy birthday, you little bitch.”

“Wow, toxic much? I’m reporting you.”

“My bad, my bad.”

The two of you pull away from each other, only for his hands to linger on your chest, yours still working their way in and around the grooves of his back, his neck. Wordlessly, you lean in– and his lips meet yours halfway.

The two of you work in tandem– hearts racing, palms sweaty. Your teeth clack against each other at times, but oh well– Jensen never considered himself much of a great kisser (although you’re inclined to disagree), and you had nerves. These were nerves of a different sort, though– one not so easily explained with tongues and teeth and lips.

It’s the bassline of a good song. It’s the crackling of fireworks. It’s the drop of a beat. It’s the sound of a flash, it’s old Lucian’s W critting and landing a triple, it’s a secured Elder Dragon. Something that feels so right cannot possibly be fucking wrong.

Maybe that’s why this kiss is a little different– a little more clumsy (although the two of you had a tendency to be so), a little more amazing, nonetheless. You’re excited. He’s excited. It was the bounce of his leg hitting the door. The cold spot on your neck.

Your face flushes. That’s another thing you’re sure of– that your face must be absolutely red right now– beet red, amber red, crimson red, whatever– some shade of red. You really can’t be assed or arsed or any other form of mood to try and pale it out.

It’s a birthday gift from me to you, you think, you’re the only one that gets to see me like this.

It is in this moment that you might have thought about how much this New Year’s Day meant to you. The holidays preceding this one had never meant a terrible much to you– it was a nice time, of course– your family ate nice things, fireworks sparking up the sky, coloring and discoloring the clouds of smoke that followed it alike. Disneyworld. That kind of shit. It was a nice holiday.

Now this meant something more than that. You’re sure of that. Yeah, 2016 was a pretty shit year for everybody involved. Even for you (and it wasn’t just because playing ADC became fucking shit).

But, well, one good thing came out of 2016 for you. For you and for him, you guess. That was pretty good. Right?

Or maybe you didn’t think about all of that. Who knows. It is a tad hard to think straight when you’ve got another dude’s lips on yours.

And when Jensen bites down on your bottom lip, and you can feel his smile against yours, you then realize that it’s a tad hard to be straight when you’ve got another dude’s lips on yours.

Being straight has been kind of hard for you as of recent, actually. As of, like, most of the days preceding January 1st.

It’s him that pulls away first. The two of you gasp for air– you don’t remember the air in your room ever being this hot. But when the air hits your lungs, it hits you cold and hard.

“I– fuck–” Jensen struggles to form a coherent sentence, “fucking… fireworks.”

“Can you say that in English,” you’re grinning, wide– wide and stupid– “please?”

“Sorry, no fucking English.” Even outside of game (and kissing) the two of you are quite the act together.

You, and him, your room, and the whole world pauses for just a split second. Just one second– just one second that you get to just look at him. Look at your room, your desk with your dual monitors, your C9 chair, look right into those clear, sea-blue eyes of his–

How in the fuck did I pull this off?

So maybe 2016 was a shit year for, like, the entire world. But, surely, if something as good as this can come out of it, maybe 2017 is looking up. Maybe 2017 is going to be full of a lot of good things. Like hugs and kisses and talking late at night– thin walls and barriers down.

“Can you, like, stop looking at me like that, please?”

“… How was I looking at you?” You inquire, attention back on your boyfriend– the world seemingly playing once again.

“Like you’re in fucking love with me or something.”

He turns back to smile at you.

“That’s because I am,” you reply, smiling back– like a fool in love. Because you are one. And so is Jensen, probably.

“Okay, let’s leave before I literally kiss you again,” he gives you a sweet little peck on your cheek. Your face feels hot. “It’s New Year’s, bro.”

“Yeah, and?”

He rolls his eyes.

“I want to take some fucking shots, bro. Now hurry your cute little ass up so we can get drunk together.”

“Blackout drunk?” You wrap your arms around his waist. His hands touch yours. They’re cold.

“Nope.”

“Oh, really?” You press your face into his neck. “Why not?” You mumble.

He sighs– happily. You think it’s one of the best things you’d ever had the honor and pleasure of hearing.

“I want to remember everything about tonight.”

“Oh, shit, the corn,” you tease, “how can I help you remember everything about tonight, good sir?”

“Suck me dry and I’ll never forget it.”

“Fuck you, Jensen.” You kiss his neck before finally letting go of him. “Happy fucking birthday.”

#submission #fan work #Sneaksen fic #tianhuo #all the squees in the world just escaped my body

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tiffdawg · 4 years ago

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Chaste | A Din Djarin x Reader Fic

Gif: @bestintheparsec

Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 2.1k

Rating: E | Warnings: NSFW - explicit sexual content, heavy petting, mutual masturbation, creampie, dity talk featuring Din’s bedroom voice. 18+ only.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted in my little poll yesterday! And thank you to @huliabitch for encouraging me to write this. This is just something I wrote in between final papers. I don’t want to try to fit it into the current timeline so let’s just say this is sometime in the future well after Din decides to keep the kid. No spoilers for season two. No backstory, no plot; just smut. We might need that to cope depending on how the season finale goes tomorrow...

Read on AO3

My Masterlist

… . …

Chaste

Unsurprisingly, Din woke up hard. Again.

Your semi-conscious brain registered his erection pressing against even before you’d opened your eyes that morning. It sent a rush of heat straight to your core. Just as it had every morning for the past week. And despite the early hour, you knew he was awake. Gentle fingertips traced abstract shapes along your side where your shirt had bunched up in your sleep. His dizzyingly light touch sent chills across your skin, but at your contented hum, his hand slipped under the hemline.

In his tender explorations he found your breast. You shifted against him, rubbing your thighs together in a pathetic relieve the mounting pressure building within you. He groaned behind you. His fingers circled your nipple before pinching the now stiff peak. You gasped at the electric mix of pain and pleasure.

“I knew you weren’t sleeping,” Din rasped, voice still hoarse from sleeping, as he pulled you back tighter against his chest, calloused hand still cupping your tit.

“You started it,” you mumbled back. Your eyes blinked open as you looked over your shoulder at him to find him lazily smirking at you. “Good morning, my love.”

“Morning, cyar’ika,” he greeted before touching his lips to yours.

What was supposed to be a chaste kiss before the two of you reluctantly roused yourselves from bed to start the day, quickly became heated. Your lips slid against his and your tongues urgently explored each other’s mouths, seeking the familiar pleasure you’d been denying each other. Din deepened the kiss and your body yielded to his as he rolled you onto your back. You carded your fingers through his dark locks, pulling ever so slightly and eliciting quiet gasps from your partner.

Moving without thinking, your legs wrapped around his waist and you ground up against him, searching for even the slightest hint of friction where you needed it most. Spurred on by your actions, Din reached around you, his rough hand grabbing your ass to hold you in place as rolled his hips in time with yours. A matching pair of sighs resounded throughout the small room at the hint of relief.

But it still wasn’t enough. Not when you wanted each other this badly.

“Whose bright idea was it not to have sex again until we’re married?” Din asked in between messy kisses.

“Mine,” you admitted begrudgingly.

... . ...

“Will you marry me?”

Din’s words, delivered softly and without preamble, pierced your heart even before you could process the simple sentence. You flicked on your ship’s autopilot, letting your old astromech take over, and turned to him. You found him watching you carefully.

You paused to admire him and the little foundling sleeping against his chest, needing to remember everything about that moment for as long as you lived. You didn’t have to think about your answer; the two of them had stolen your heart years ago. “Yes,” you replied easily with a smile, “of course I will.”

Din beamed at you. You crossed the small cabin to perch on the armrest of his seat. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he quipped as he leaned in to kiss you, careful not to disturb the baby.

“I was wondering if you were ever going to ask.”

“I know. You’ve been patient. That’s not like you,” he teased.

“Shut up before I change my mind,” you threatened playfully even as you pressed a kiss to his temple. “How exactly does a Mandalorian marry?”

“The riduurok is a simple exchange of vows. We can...” –he swallowed hard– “we can do it right now.”

“Now?” you exclaimed. You grimaced as the baby stirred. Din adjusted his blanket and he settled down. He turned back to you with a raised brow.

You’d been through so much together. Loved each other for so long. Really, marriage vows were just a formality. Nothing would change. But it didn’t feel quite right. Something was missing.

“On my homeworld a marriage is something to celebrate. It’s kind of a big deal.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I haven’t been back in years but I always imagined getting married at home and celebrating with my family. At the very least I always thought I’d take you home to meet them first. I guess that’s stupid,” you shook your head, trying to banish the thought. You had bigger priorities.

“No, it’s not,” Din said firmly. “I– I don’t have that. I’m glad that you do.”

“We can still say our vows in private. Just the three of us. But it would mean the world to me to share this with them.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Then we’ll go as soon as we can.”

“Thank you,” you said around a smile before eagerly sealing your mouth to his.

He made a happy sound before speaking conspiratorially against your lips. “Let me put the kid to bed and we’ll start celebrating.”

A cold heat ran through you at the insinuation. “Shit,” you cursed.

“What’s wrong?”

“How long do you think it’ll be before we can go to my planet?”

Din shrugged. “It’ll be at least a month before we can make it to the Tashtor Sector. Why?”

“Well,” you started hesitantly, “it’s tradition for couples not to have sex once a marriage promise is made. Not until the wedding night.”

Din’s head hit the back of his seat as a long exhalation escaped him. “Anything else I should know about?” he grumbled.

“Nope,” you chirped, stifling a laugh. “I mean there’s a whole bunch of other stuff, but that’s the only thing that’s actually important.”

“Of course it is,” he grumbled with a shake of his head as he leaned forward. Except he paused just before his lips touched yours. “Am I still allowed to kiss you?”

“Yes,” you laughed. His mouth matched with yours and when you parted, he was smiling again. He rested his forehead against yours, an unbroken habit from the early days of your relationship, and you felt the weight of your new situation settle between the two of you. “Think you can last that long?” you teased.

“Can you?” he challenged with a tilt of his head.

“You couldn’t go a whole month without this pussy,” you whispered, hoping to get a rise out of him.

“I’m a Mandalorian.” He said it stoically as if that was an explanation in itself. “You’ll be begging for my cock by the end of the week, cyar’ika. Just like you were last night.”

“We’ll see about that, Mandalorian.”

... . ...

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. And a month seemed perfectly reasonable. You were wrong. It was supposed to make the night of your marriage special, but so far all it was doing was frustrating the hell out of both of you. Every night you slept next to him unable to touch him like this was fucking torture. You trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck in silent apology.

“How the fuck are we supposed to wait two more weeks?” He asked though heavy breaths, not expecting an answer. Normally, you were the wild spitfire that countered his cool demeanor, but at that moment – cheeks flushed, chest heaving, hair mussed – he looked absolutely wrecked. “I wanna bury my cock in you right now.”

“I know you do,” you panted. “I want you inside me. Want you to fill me with your cum so bad.”

“Yeah?” He fumbled with your shirt that had twisted around in your sleep before hiking up your sleep shirt. His mouth latched onto your breast so he could kiss and suck and bite your breasts, marking the tender flesh as his own as he continued to rock against you. “You want that?”

“I miss the way you make me feel so full. The way it drips out of me.” Your cunt clenched around nothing and your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you tried to control your desire. “I need it,” you whined instead.

“I know you do.” He raised his head from your chest to look at you. “Shit, sweetheart, you’re so pretty when you’re desperate for me.”

“Oh, Din,” you mewled, practically on the verge of tears.

“Are you as wet as I think you are?” He leaned back on his knees to reach a hand between your bodies. He smirked, his brows lifting in amusement, as touched you through your panties. You were drenched. “Take it off.”

“What? What are you–” You placed your hands on his broad shoulders to stop him as he repositioned himself between your legs and covered your body with his. “We shouldn’t–”

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he said as he pulled his briefs down just enough to release his cock, hard and leaking already leaking. “But I am going to fill you. Just like you need.”

Your chest caved in and a broken, pathetic whimper escaped you at his admission. “Really?”

“Can I?” he asked, brown eyes practically beseeching you. He was always so polite even in moments like that. Even after all that time together.

Your hold on him softened, hands moving to gently cradle his face. “Please, Din.”

He helped you strip. As soon as you were exposed to him, his thick fingers teased your folds, coating them in your wetness, before wrapping around his length. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Ready?”

You nodded and he notched the tip of his dick at your entrance. He started pumping himself, using your slick to lubricate himself.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried when you realized what he was going to do.

The feeling of his hand moving in between your legs as he jerked himself off made your head spin. You felt filthy and you fucking liked it. You arched toward him, hips angled to take more of his dick, but he stopped you.

“No, cyare. Not this time,” he whispered against your cheek. You squeezed his tip as your cunt contracted instead, earning a delirious moan from him. “I missed this pussy.”

You could tell he was close. After weeks of hardly touching each other, it wouldn’t take much. You ran your hands down his bare chest and across his soft sides before gripping his hip, hoping to encourage him and hold in place as he neared his climax.

Eyes squeezed shut and teeth bared, he came with a shout. You felt him cum spurting inside you as he filled you. He continued to stroke himself, drawing out his orgasm as long as he could even as his spend started to leak out.

“Touch yourself for me,” Din demanded gently, placing light kisses on your face. “Wanna watch you cum.”

He pulled out and leaned back just as your hand replaced him. Watching him watch you sent a fresh wave of arousal to your center. With a devilish smile, you gathered the cum dripping out of you and swirled your fingers around your throbbing clit. Din groaned at the sight. Two strong hands gripped your thighs and spread your legs further as his eyes locked on your cunt.

Every muscle in your body seemed to tighten as you played with yourself, your own climax was right behind his. But just as you were about to cum, Din grabbed your wrist and removed your hand. The noise he made was practically a growl as he leaned down to spit on your pussy.

“Oh fuck, Din!” you shouted, body keening off the bed. When he finally released your hand, you rubbed furiously at your clit, eased by the mix of his cum and saliva.

“That’s it. Cum for me.”

Your vision blacked out before an array of stars burst behind your closed eyes as your orgasm tore through you. Pleasure clouded your mind, but you could hear yourself chanting his name like a prayer.

When you fell back against the bed, Din collapsed half on top of you, his cheek pillowed on your chest. “Fuck, that felt good,” you sighed. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you both caught your breath. “But I think that might be considered cheating.”

“No,” he insisted, “Just... bending the rules a little.” You both laughed and he held you a little tighter. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“So you can finally fuck me again?”

“No.” He shook his head. “So I can be your husband.” You felt him smile against your skin. “And so I can finally make love to my wife.”

... . ...

Forever Tags: @leo-moon @readsalot73 @frietiemeloen @huliabitch @jerusomeeno @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann @scapricciatello @liadamerondjarin @pedropasscals @paintballkid711 @mistermiraclee @honeyand-roses

Story Tags: @softpedropascal @mindless--ramblings @disgruntledspacedad

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #fic: chaste

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arcadejohn127-9 · 4 years ago

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Hello!1st I wanted to say i love your blog its *chefs kiss*,and 2nd could I request (i dont know if this is in someway triggering or not so i apologize) a MC who doesnt believe the brothers can love them 'cause they despise themself and they are so set on (?) with that mindset that the brothers cant convince them otherwise,but MC themself wants to feel loved they...just cant...and they just breakdown saying they arent special and when the brothers meet other humans they will realise that MC is nothing,that they are a horrible being and they will leave them for somebody better,does that make sense I dont wanna go too deep into it(totaaaaally not self projecting)I am so sorry if this is a sensitive topic,feel free to ignore this ask,this has been eating me out for weeks so I just wanted to seek some comfort.Once again your blog is great and dont overwork yourself, take care! :D 🤍

I've definitely been there and even now, I still have these fears. Growing out of these Insecurities and feelings are hard even if you work hard to be as confident as you can. One day it'll happen but until then you just gotta keep reminding yourself that you're worth the world

Also tip, please don't rely on others for self worth - people can be cruel or simply just unpredictable. Not all but until you see every colour of a person you don't know. If you depend on someone else to give you worth and make you feel good then that'll start a very unhealthy cycle for yourself

I hate this phase "love yourself before you love others" because you don't need to, you can find healthy and happy relationships whilst insecure. But I think what it really means is; get self worth before you love another. Make sure you don't do yourself damage by giving you Someone who does the bare minimum or will sometimes make you feel good but is usually a dick.

You can find love but that love can be wrong if you don't pay attention to the red flags. Don't let your insecurities drag you into unhealthy relationships.

Because you are stunning, worth it and loveable. You're Someone people can look up to or admire even if it's for something simple like your humour.

Also thank you, I'll be sure to not overwork myself, make sure you don't pressure yourself too hard about work or your hobbies. Hobbies are all about fun!

Warning: self loathing, depressive themes, angst

You could stand it.

Your eyes traveled along the gifts and trinkets that were in your room. Each one gifted to you by a powerful demon; a demon you live with.

You couldn't stand it.

You could get it; why would someone like that every like you? You weren't special and yet Everyone insisted that you were. You're not the key. Not anything Diavolo wants or expects. Definitely not what the brothers want.

You had to scoff. The brothers only like you because of Lilith, if you were related then they'd never see you as anything but some human. Lilith dragged you here, she made sure you came here and for what? To be always told you're going to be some big thing; someone to destroy hatred and help bring together three realms.

Do they not realize how much pressure that is??!!!! And the how are you even going to do that?! You're magic is unpredictable and useless - it perfectly reflects you.

You whimpered at your own thoughts. The word useless stinging at your heart; it was almost if a knife lodged itself into your chest. Constantly stabbing the word useless into it.

You were useless. They need to find someone who can actually live up to their expectations. Just a good for nothing human....why do they even like you?

You looked back at the gifts, your watery stare turning into a hateful glare.

The question was burning inside your head. You couldn't understand; what did he see in you? You're not special! You're not anything anyone wants you to be and you're just being forced on a pedestal you didn't make!

Why did he always look at you the way he does? Like you actually mean something. Why does he smile so softly when you enter the room?

Why would he be like that when you KNOW that as soon as he meets another human, he'll be running after them without hesitation. Everyone was so much more attractive than you and better than you - you couldn't get why he loved you. Why- no how?! You weren't good enough for him!

No matter how many times he says I love you or compliments you it leaves such a bitter disgusting taste in your mouth. You're so horrible you can't even let people be nice to you - it's all a lie anyway. No one could love you. Never. No one!

You were useless! Disgusting! You weren't even attractive! You weren't loveable! You're a horrible person who looks just as horrible as they are. How can they look at you like that?! How can they stand you?! You're nothing!

You don't get it!

Why?! Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why-!

A scream ripped itself out of your throat. Tears streaming down your face as you clutched your head. Your body curled into itself, shaking and trembling as you choked on your sobs. You coughed through it as you tried to breath but the tears kept coming. Drowning you as you desperately tried to breath under their weight.

The pain was unbelievable. You felt like your head was on fire. You could barely even make out the figure standing at your door. Whoever they were, they scooped you up from the floor and rubbed circles into your arms. You clutched to them for dear life as you cried.

Somewhere in your brain you could tell who it was and it only made you cry harder. Shame filling your lungs as you tried to escape their caring embrace.

"No-! Stop it! I'm nothing! I'm useless-! Let me go-!! Why- why won't you leave me alone?! I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!! LET ME DIE-!"

were you dying? You felt like it. The ache was painful; your chest growing tighter and tighter. You pounded on their chest, demanding they let you be the useless thing that you are alone.

Lucifer:

He forced back his tears

Just rubbing circles into your skin as he held you

To think you were this Insecure despite being the nicest person who knew

You were Better than him and don't let pride stop you - you were amazing

"not good enough for me? What made you believe that...? You're perfect for me, you complete me."

You denied his claims, sobbing as you listed your insecurities

"Your insecurities don't define you, you're so much more than that - I wouldn't of picked you to be my love if I didn't think you'd be adequate."

He wasn't sure if you were still listening but he pushed past his doubts

Adjusting you in his embrace

"I- I'm not sure if I'm comforting you....I'm not good at being the gentle hand, I want you to see how I see you - you're kind, charming and always keeping me in awe, you mean so much to me, I'll trade anything I could just to see you smile - I love you."

Mammon:

There can only be one self loathing idioit in this relationship

He refuses to let you feel like how he has

His forced confidence - you could easily see through it - anyone could

But you were the only one who then actually helped him feel better when you did see through it

He let a few tears stray, holding you close

"did someone say something to you? I don't forgive 'em for ever making ya this upset, I'm not letting you feel like this."

You shook your head, muttering that he should let you

"why should I? You're my favourite person and you've only made me happy - so let me make you happy! You're the only person who's ever treated me the way ya treat me and I won't let you hate yourself!"

He hugged you even tighter, squeezing you as he hid his face in your shoulder

"you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, okay? You always know how to make me feel better and it's my turn to make you feel better but you gotta listen to me! I lo-love you! The great Mammon loves you so badly that he just wants to kiss you every day! You're amazing and I won't forgive ya if you let yourself keep going on like this, let me support you.... please...I don't want you to go."

Levithan:

He couldn't get it

He's always been jealous of your personality and ability to make others feel good

His envy makes him despise himself - so seeing you be the same, he couldn't take it

He gave you one big squeeze

"d-don't be stupid! You're the best thing that's come into my life - even better than ruri-chan!"

You didn't believe him, he was obessed with that character

"but it's true-! If I could I'd get loads of merchandise of you too because you're my favourite person! You're just like the protagonists I read about."

His face was beat red but he was determined to make you feel better

"You're Henry, you are brave and kind, always trying your best even if that best isn't up to your own or others standards, you Inspire me! I've thought about of making a series about you...so others can feel just as happy as I do when I see you, you make me feel less insecure and like I actually mean something - why can I do to make you feel the same? You mean everything to me! I really like you....I like-like you-! I LOVE YOU AND I WANT YOU TO BE HAPPY! Let me make you feel how you make me feel because then you'll see just how amazing you are!"

Satan:

Did someone makes you feel like this or was it just your own thoughts?

If it isn't the latter he'll need to find out who's hurt you

But right now, he hugged you tighter and cradled your head

He couldn't stand to see and hear you so destressed

"did I do something to make you feel like this? I'm so sorry if I did, I don't always realize when I come off rude or hateful- I could never hate you."

You held him tight, telling him to stop

"but I need to fix it if I've hurt you and if it wasn't me then whoever did needs to keep quiet, you don't deserve these feelings."

You huffed, trying to not cry more

He gave your Shoulder a small squeeze

"you're more than enough for me, you're so good to me - sometimes I wonder if I'm good enough for you, you're always so patient with me and don't make me feel like I'm some unthinking beast, you don't think I'm lying when I be genuine and that makes me love you - I do love you - you make me feel good and I want to do the same for you, you're beyond good and I'll always be happy with the person you are and can become because I know you can do so much and always bring positivity even in the darkest times."

Asmodeus:

He's crying too

He hated of being seen as insecure

He only wanted confidence

Seeing you sob and beat on yourself like this only reminded him of his most private moments

He held you even closer, rocking you gently

"No, dear, I love you too much to let you feel like this, you're amazing to me and I think you're better than even myself, you're my number 1."

You shook your head, telling him he's lying

"I'm not, why would I lie? You're the sweetest person I know, you don't see me as some sex object - you make me feel real and happy - so so happy."

He kissed the top of your head, hiding his tear streaked face

"I want you to be happy....you deserve it, you've got only so long to live and I'm so scared that you're going to hate yourself even until you die, I don't want that! You're beautiful amazing and I could never ask for anyone better! Please- just let's work on our confidence together...okay? You're so wonderful, don't let yourself become so hateful."

Beezlebub:

He's absolutely broken

How didn't he realize you felt this bad about yourself??

He didn't even realize he was crying aswell, just holding you close as his mind screamed at him

"did something make you feel like this? It hurts to hear you say these things."

You shook your head before nodding, muttering you just won't talk anymore

"I didn't mean that, I always want you to be open with me and if not me, atleast one of my brother's."

He picked you up, placing you in a more comfortable position and held you close to his chest

"I love you, it took me awhile to realize that but I do, you make me feel full and happy - like I just ate a big buffet of warm cakes and dishes, I'm always warm when I'm with you, I don't believe you're not good enough - you're kind to me and never judge me for eating, you help me with working out but most importantly, you fixed my family and brought my twin back, I don't know how to make you see how much that means to me and I don't want you to feel bad about yourself when you're always the best person in the room - you're really great."

Belphegor:

"just let me die"

Those words hurt him so bad

He was like that, he demanded to be left to Rot with his own self loathing when Lilith died

He pulled you close to his chest as he grabbed your shoulder

"You're not allowed to feel like this, you've done nothing to feel this much hatred towards yourself."

You told him he was wrong, crying harder

"when am I wrong? I- okay, I can be wrong but I'm not wrong about you, you're my favourite person which means I love you and I don't let my favourite people sit and cry."

He cuddled you, nuzzling his cheek against yours

"You saved me and I will never able to make it up to you, I've hurt you and I hate it- I hate that I'm a reason you get scared, don't ever let yourself rot away, when my brother's just leave me to sleep I always feel so much dread - that I'm being left to die in my bed and will never get to see their faces again - I'll never be able to see your face again....I wouldn't be able to take it.....seeing you everyday makes me want to leave my bed and always make sure you smile, let me make you smile again."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #gamingclubpresident #aracadejohn217 9 #obey me mammon #obey me mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me luficer #obey me levithan #obey me imagine #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me headcanon #obey me headcanons #obey me angst #angst

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palaceofpassion · 3 years ago

Text

Neo’s Arc 2

Part 2 to the Neo’s Arc Commission!

Jaune couldn’t believe it, he’d actually done it! Had ACTUALLY made his way into Beacon, THE BEACON! He wasn’t sure what God had blessed him with such luck, or what the headmaster had been thinking when he let him in. Jaune himself, despite constant training with his sister, had felt rather inadequate compared to the other students. But hey he was here, he wasn’t going to complain either. Not when he had Neo by his side, and oh boy was he happy to have Neo by his side! His sister, slash, lover had gotten to him… perhaps a little too quickly when they had landed, leading to the two of them becoming teammates. And well, he couldn’t ask for a better team if he was being honest!

“Good night everyone!” He smiled brightly as his team, which consisted of his glorious splendid sister Neo, the lovely and kind Pyrrha Nikos, and the originally snooty but actually a very sweet girl Weiss Schnee! He may have started on the wrong foot with the two of them, but after talking things through, a few troubles with the team next door, and well some arguments here and there. They’d truly become a close team, and… and well it felt nice being near three GORGEOUS Women. Even as loyal as he was to his sister… he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander sometimes, especially with how striking Pyrrha and Weiss were… especially with how often they liked to show those damned fine legs of theirs… sue him he was a leg man!

“Good Night Jaune.”

“Night Arc.”

Shuffle~

Ah and here was the other thing, the reason he probably HAD not snapped with all the feminine wiles surrounding him. It was because of his dear~ Lovely~ Precious~ Cock Hungry sister.

Neo had been absolutely grateful that she’d ended up on the same team as her precious, hunky, loving brother. She wouldn’t know what she would have done if he’d ended up on a team of all girls, especially if she wasn’t nearby to keep an eye on him. Not that she didn’t like Weiss or Pyrrha… but she wasn’t blind. She could see the way those harpies eyed him, like he was some kind of prize to be won, or prey to be snatched! She would have NONE of that, he belonged to her and her alone.

Well, even if they did like him, it wasn’t like they’d done anything to show it. And if they weren’t going to make their move, then as far as she was concerned he was all hers, would forever be hers. As quietly as a mouse, she swiftly snuck towards him, her clothes gently dripping to the floor below. The cool night air doing nothing to abate the intense heat originating from her womb. She’d grown so needy, so wanting of her brother’s hot throbbing cock. Of being close to him, touching him, experiencing the warmth of her beloved. She couldn’t imagine a world where that wasn’t a thing, where she couldn’t touch him like she wanted.

No… she didn’t want to imagine a world where she was alone. Putting those thoughts away for now, she gently slinked within his sheets, the shuffling of the bed quietly humming through the room as she pushed herself against her already buck naked brother. “Hey~” A little tingle ran down her neck as he gently whispered into her ears. She LOVED how he’d expected her to show up, his fingers already dancing upon her posterior, clinging onto her and bringing their bodies closer together.

The burning heat intensified within while his blazing hot dick slid between her thighs, sandwiching itself between the plump sticks of meat. Her lips quivered against his, their tongues slipping beneath their hidden sheathes as they tangoed into one another. This was why she LOVED being here, she needn’t hide from her siblings, from their mother. They didn’t need to know about her twisted relationship with her brother, blood or not. No… this worked out the best as far as she was concerned.

She didn’t even care if her roommates knew. She imagined they’d had an inkling, despite the steps she and Jaune had taken to be as secretive as they could. But, even now she could imagine them, staring from their own beds. Their bodies gently rising in a faux nocturnal state. The exhibistionistic glee in her took over, the thought of being watched, of being seen as the tip of his burning hot cock pressed against her wanting entrance. The thought that both girls, who eagerly yearned for her brother’s affection, could do nothing but spectate as she and he made passionate love. It… well it did things to her.

It did lovely things to her, especially when he slowly slid one of his fingers up her spine and gently against her neck. Her hairs stood on end as he touched her softly, gently grasping the back of her head and tugging her forward, pressing them together for an even tighter hold. Gods above she loved her brother, loved him more than perhaps her own life. She wanted nothing more than to touch him, to feel him, her fingers grasping against his back, sliding between his strong shoulder muscles. She wanted more, wanted to inhale his scent further, wanted to feel his warm touch against her body.

The more they were apart the more she ached, the closer they were, the more she wanted it. She knew she was greedy, knew she was unreasonable but she couldn’t get enough of the way that he smelled, of the way that his lips tasted against hers. She clung to him, like a newborn, wanting to never let him go. Wanting to forever be loved and held by her dearest person.

She felt a sense of joy knowing she no longer had to fear, fear that they may get caught by their family and torn apart. She didn’t care about these other girls, only cared about Jaune. If she could make sounds she would squee, would let out a yelp of pleasure as his tongue brushed against hers. Their lips parting ways for just a moment as trails of spit dripped upon their shared pillow.

She needed not say a word, only simply stare him in the eyes, her heart pounding thoroughly in her chest as he nodded. She loved him so dearly, loved that he knew exactly what she wanted without her having to say a word. She knew no one else would ever get her the way that he did and she never wanted anyone else to. “Ah!” She may not have been able to speak, but her lips could still part, a muffled sound nearly escaping as she felt his thing brush against her lips.

The splintering hot sensation of the tip rustling against her quiverly sex was enough to nearly to send her into a tight orgasm. But she needed him, needed for him to shove it deep inside of her. She had an itch that only he could scratch, one that only he could fill and oh brothers did she want it badly.

“Oh brothers.” She tried to arch her back, tried to pull her head away from her brothers as his girthy cock slid inside of her, her lips parting to make way for the added space, but he kept her locked in place. She loved the fullness she experienced whenever he pushed into her, whenever the two of them became one. The rigid dick, veiny fat cock, scratched against her insides, rubbing into her ridges and sending pleasant scritching sensations through her. She knew she wasn’t satisfied yet, that she needed and wanted more. But this was a good start.

Her nails began to sink into his flesh, their auras turned off, the intimacy of their bodies being directly connected being what she wanted. Her toes began to clench as her muscles in her legs tightened. Slowly he pushed against her, the swell in her belly growing larger and larger as he gently rubbed himself upwards. She needed this, needed to be filled to the brim with him. She wanted his seed inside of her womb so badly that she almost pushed herself down upon him. Even if she couldn’t get pregnant right now, she’d taken the shot to keep her infertile till she was done with class, she wanted to at least feel like she could!

Jaune couldn’t keep his hands off his sister's sinuous figure, his hands roamed, letting his animalistic lust take hold of him, his hunger burning as he frantically squeezed and groped at whatever he could. Their bodies were already entering into carnal passion as their tongues wrestled with one another. The sweet and sultry scent wafting off of her moistening form intoxicated him, the way she held onto him intoxicated him, her tightening cavern enticed him.

He’d long gotten over any doubts about what he wanted from this twisted relationship of theirs. No longer did he care that they were siblings, even if not by blood. No longer did he stop himself when he desired her, he no longer bothered to hide his dark cravings and the lust he felt for her. He simply took her, simply allowed himself to bask in her form. The softness of her skin felt wonderful to his touch, her voluptuous form pressed against his chest was exquisite. He could hardly get enough, he didn’t want to get enough. He wanted more, he wanted to touch her whenever he could. HIs fingers tightened around her bottom, grasping and squeezing around whatever he could get ahold of.

His powerful digits kneading into the soft doughy swells, he found himself letting loose. Squeezing into her soft cavern he split the malleable hills apart, he could feel a gasp of air escape her lips as he pushed further inside of her while doing so. Her every reaction, the way she let him know she loved what he was doing, always did it for him. The stimulation from their simple touches, the way that she squirmed when he took command, he never knew he needed and now he could never live without.

His hips rocked back and forth, her insides massaging his manhood, tasting the pleasures of the flesh as they pushed further into one another. He knew he had to be quiet, lest their teammates wake up, but he found himself far too enthralled to care if they did. In fact… perhaps the thrill of having one of his gorgeous teammates watch them, perhaps too stunned to do anything, was something he could really enjoy. He whispered gently into her ear as he worshipped her small lithe form, “I love you~ You’re my goddess~ My beloved~ I want to breed you, I want you to bear my fruit so badly.”

Her response was the same as usual, a little tingle encapsulated her womb as she bit down upon his lip, tasting his flesh as she attempted to endure his loving assault. She was weak to his teasing, weak to the way he made her feel loved. She could never get enough, never wanted to get enough. His words danced within her head, powerful feelings surging from deep within her body. Her core, trembling weakly as it was, began to give on her. The feeling of completeness seeped from her very depths and while she tried to savor the soft touches. She wanted more, wanted him to take her so very badly.

She couldn’t speak, but she knew how to get him going, a simple peck to the lips as she grasped upon his shoulders. Tugging against him she flipped their bodies, he was now above her, their blankets no longer covering their naked forms. She found herself awestruck, like she always was, when the soft silvery moonlight fell upon his chiseled body. She’d done so much to help him get to where he was, and she’d be damned if she didn’t appreciate the results. Even now she couldn’t help but run her finger down his biceps, slowly tracing towards the abs. A mighty thirst filled her, eyes falling back to him as she begged him.

“Fuck me, break me.”

She wanted him badly, wanted him to treat her like a toy, wanted him to let loose like he hadn’t been able to do till now. She began to care not if her teammates knew, in fact they could know all they want, she wanted them to realize just how much he belonged to her.

Jaune got the message loud and clear, any reservations he may have had about being quiet quickly went out the window as he shoved himself further against her. Her tightness grasped upon him, his body moving as she wished him to ravishing her till she began to release him reaching for the sheets as her fingers sunk into the bedding.

Creek Creek Creek

The bed began to move as his pace skyrocketed, his body penetrated her depths, no longer slowing down he began to ravage her insides. The harder and faster he went the more she tightened around him, her bumpy ridges massaged against his cock, grinding against the fleshy stick as he immersed himself in the pleasure.

Neo lavished the sensation, her insides tightening around him needing him inside of her more and more. The tip of his cock grazed against her cervix every time he pushed into her, with every new lunge he got closer and closer to battering against her womb and she loved it. She loved the way that he grasped her legs, and pulled them back over her head. Loved the way her lower body no longer touched upon the bedding. She loved how he began to fuck her, to ravage her, to rape her into the sheets. Her body needed this, she LOVED him dearly, she loved how easily he could switch for her. And she LOVED how he pushed her further down.

Even as the first orgasm hit the two of them he refused to stop. Even as her body quaked in overwhelming pleasure, and even as his jerked baby maker released its batter relentlessly into her oven. He’d refused to back down. Incited by perhaps the thought of being caught, he’d entered a frenzied fuck. No longer where they having sex, she could tell this had become something else.

“Get pregnant, I want to get you pregnant, have my children, bear my babies. I need you to have my kids, please get pregnant.” His voice chanted loudly and clearly to her, his body now entering a rut. He was no longer fucking her for pleasure, he was fucking her with the intent on spreading his seed far and wide. Oh how she wished she could accept it now, but she knew that he knew they couldn’t. Not just because of the shot, but because both of them had goals in mind. While she wanted to protect him, she’d always dreamed of helping those that were lost just like her.

So his words, they reached and touched her heart, but they both knew they couldn’t happen. Still, her womb reacted accordingly. As he plunged into her depths, her cervix opened hungrily, drinking his seed hoping that his constant thrustings didn’t spill the precious nectar.

The stirred liquid sloshed within her body, succumbing to the pleasures of being filled, of having her womb poured directly into. She couldn’t help but enjoy the wonderful feeling, and as for Jaune? He’d lost it, no longer thinking with his upperhead, he buried himself, slammed himself, devoted himself to breeding her as best as he could. The two, so caught up within their sinful desires, failed to notice though the jealous green and sky blue eyes watching them.

Neither of them noticed the way that their sheets shifted as their hands worked between their legs.

Weiss… Weiss couldn’t believe what she’d seen, couldn’t even fathom that what was happening in front of her was actually happening… but there it was. The brother and sister duo had always struck her as odd… and she kind of always knew something was going on. But to actually see Jaune… that buffoon… that idiot… that… that specimen of a man! Push his sister down, take command, and BREED her. That hadn’t… that just… it was too much. The thick smell wafted within their room, her mind falling into a deep haze. She didn’t know how they’d planned to hide it, not with the thick scent of sex filling her lungs as easily as it was.

She hadn’t meant to start, but her body desired touch, it craved satisfaction, so before she could consider stopping she’d already begun to reach between her legs. Her fingers slaking across her soft core dipping into her tight virgin slit. She began to want more than this, it wasn’t enough… and she… oh gods she needed it.

Pyrrha was very much the same, she thought seeing her crush crushing his sister would have been more upsetting than it was. But instead she found herself directly pulled to it, she’d been unable to pull her gaze away from the very start succumbing to the desires of the flesh. She wanted to be treated that way, wanted Jaune to plunge into her to take her virginity and taste her flesh. She… she wanted to be bred like Neo was being… she needed to.

Unlike Weiss, she had no reservations about sliding her fingers between her thighs, a pool of moisture forming and sliding down her leg and onto her sheets before she’d even started. Her body stirred into action as she rubbed against her clit, her shudder and a sigh escaping her lips as she started to play with herself. Her digits roaming freely within her. She needed to do something, her fingers proving not enough to cleanse the burning fire boiling within her. And… as she watched Jaune and Neo, she came to a conclusion. It just so happened that Weiss came to the exact same agreement. They wanted Jaune, and they would have him one way or another.

#Jaune Arc #neopolitian (rwby)#Weiss Schnee #Pyrrha Nikos

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jeannereames · 3 years ago

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Hi, Dr. Reames! I just read your take on Song of Achilles and it got me thinking. Do you think there might be a general issue with the way women are written in mlm stories in general? Because I don't think it's the first time I've seen something like this happen.

And my next question is, could you delve further into this thing you mention about modern female authors writing women? How could we, beginner female writers, avoid falling into this awful representations of women in our writing?

Thank you for your time!

[It took a while to finish this because I wrote, re-wrote, and re-wrote it. Still not sure I like it, but I need to let it go. It could be 3xs as long.]

I’ll begin with the second half of the question, because it’s simpler. How do we, as women authors, avoid writing women in misogynistic ways?

Let me reframe that as how can we, as female authors, write negative (even quite nasty) female characters without falling into misogynistic tropes? Also, how can we write unsympathetic, but not necessarily “bad” female characters, without it turning misogynistic?

Because people are people, not genders, not all women are good, nor all men bad. Most of us are a mix. If we should avoid assuming powerful women are all bitches, by the same token, some women are bitches (powerful or not).

ALL good characterization comes down to MOTIVE. And careful characterization of minority characters involves fair REPRESENTATION. (Yes, women are a minority even if we’re 51% of the population.)

The question ANY author must ask: why am I making this female character a bitch? How does this characterization serve the larger plot and/or characterization? WHY is she acting this way?

Keep characters complex, even the “bad guys.” Should we choose to make a minority character a “bad guy,” we need to have a counter example—a real counter, not just a token who pops in briefly, then disappears. Yeah, maybe in an ideal world we could just let our characters “be,” but this isn’t an ideal world. Authors do have an audience. I’m a lot less inclined to assume stereotyping when we have various minority characters with different characterizations.

By the same token, however, don’t throw a novel against the wall if the first minority character is negative. Read further to decide if it’s a pattern. I’ve encountered reviews that slammed an author for stereotyping without the reader having finished the book. I’m thinking, “Uh…if you’d read fifty more pages….” Novels have a developmental arc. And if you’ve got a series, that, too, has a developmental arc. One can’t reach a conclusion about an author’s ultimate presentation/themes until having finished the book, or series.*

Returning to the first question, the appearance of misogyny depends not only on the author, but also on when she wrote, even why she’s writing. Authors who are concerned with matters such as theme and message are far more likely to think about such things than those who write for their own entertainment and that of others, which is more typical of Romance.

On average, Romance writers are a professionalized bunch. They have national and regional chapters of the Romance Writers of America (RWA), newsletters and workshops that discuss such matters as building plot tension, character dilemmas, show don’t tell, research tactics, etc. Yet until somewhat recently (early/mid 2010s), and a series of crises across several genres (not just Romance), treatment of minority groups hadn’t been in their cross-hairs. Now it is, with Romance publishers (and publishing houses more generally) picking up “sensitivity readers” in addition to the other editors who look at a book before its publication.

Yet sensitivity readers are hired to be sure lines like “chocolate love monkey” do not show up in a published novel. Yes, that really was used as an endearment for a black man in an M/M Romance, which (deservedly) got not just the author but the publishing house in all sorts of hot water. Yet misogyny, especially more subtle misogyny in the way of tropes, is rarely on the radar.

I should add that I wouldn’t categorize The Song of Achilles as an M/M historical Romance. In fact, I’m not sure what to call novels about myths, as myths don’t exist in actual historical periods. When should we set a novel about the Iliad? The Bronze Age, when Homer said it happened, or the Greek Dark Age, which is the culture Homer actually described? They’re pretty damn different. I’d probably call The Song of Achilles an historical fantasy, especially as mythical creatures are presented as real, like centaurs and god/desses.

Back to M/M Romance: I don’t have specific publishing stats, but it should surprise no one that (like most of the Romance genre), the vast bulk of authors of M/M Romance are women, often straight and/or bi- women. The running joke seems to be, If one hot man is good, two hot men together are better. 😉 Yes, there are also trans, non-binary and lesbian authors of M/M Romance, and of course, bi- and gay men who may write under their own name or a female pseudonym, but my understanding is that straight and bi- cis-women authors outnumber all of them.

Just being a woman, or even a person in a female body, does not protect that author from misogyny. And if she’s writing for fun, she may not be thinking a lot about what her story has to “say” in its subtext and motifs, even if she may be thinking quite hard about other aspects of story construction. This can be true of other genres as well (like historical fantasy).

What I have observed for at least some women authors is the unconscious adoption of popular tropes about women. Just as racism is systemic, so is sexism. We swim in it daily, and if one isn’t consciously considering how it affects us, we can buy into it by repeating negative ideas and acting in prescribed ways because that’s what we learned growing up. If writing in a symbol-heavy genre such as mythic-driven fantasy, it can be easy to let things slip by—even if they didn’t appear in the original myth, such as making Thetis hostile to Patroklos, the classic Bitchy Mother-in-Law archetype.

I see this sort of thing as “accidental” misogyny. Women authors repeat unkind tropes without really thinking them through because it fits their romantic vision. They may resent it and get defensive if the trope is pointed out. “Don’t harsh my squee!” We can dissect why these tropes persist, and to what degree they change across generations—but that would end up as a (probably controversial) book, not a blog entry. 😊

Yet there’s also subconscious defensive misogyny, and even conscious/semi-conscious misogyny.

Much debate/discussion has ensued regarding “Queen Bee Syndrome” in the workplace and whether it’s even a thing. I think it is, but not just for bosses. I also would argue that it’s more prevalent among certain age-groups, social demographics, and professions, which complicates recognizing it.

What is Queen Bee Syndrome? Broadly, when women get ahead at the expense of their female colleagues who they perceive as rivals, particularly in male-dominated fields, hinging on the notion that There Can Be Only One (woman). It arises from systemic sexism.

Yes, someone can be a Queen Bee even with one (or two) women buddies, or while claiming to be a feminist, supporting feminist causes, or writing feminist literature. I’ve met a few. What comes out of our mouths doesn’t necessarily jive with how we behave. And ticking all the boxes isn’t necessary if you’re ticking most of them. That said, being ambitious, or just an unpleasant boss/colleague—if its equal opportunity—does not a Queen Bee make. There must be gender unequal behavior involved.

What does any of that have to do with M/M fiction?

The author sees the women characters in her novel as rivals for the male protagonists. It gets worse if the women characters have some “ownership” of the men: mothers, sisters, former girlfriends/wives/lovers. I know that may sound a bit batty. You’re thinking, Um, aren’t these characters gay or at least bi- and involved with another man, plus—they’re fictional? Doesn’t matter. Call it fantasizing, authorial displacement, or gender-flipped authorial insert. We authors (and I include myself in this) can get rather territorial about our characters. We live in their heads and they live in ours for months on end, or in many cases, years. They’re real to us. Those who aren't authors often don’t quite get that aspect of being an author. So yes, sometimes a woman author acts like a Queen Bee to her women characters. This is hardly all, or even most, but it is one cause of creeping misogyny in M/M Romance.

Let’s turn to a related problem: women who want to be honorary men. While I view this as much more pronounced in prior generations, it’s by no means disappeared. Again, it’s a function of systemic sexism, but further along the misogyny line than Queen Bees. Most Queen Bees I’ve known act/react defensively, and many are (imo) emotionally insecure. It’s largely subconscious. More, they want to be THE woman, not an honorary man.

By contrast, women who want to be honorary men seem to be at least semi-conscious of their misogyny, even if they resist calling it that. These are women who, for the most part, dislike other women, regard most of “womankind” as either a problem or worthless, and think of themselves as having risen above their gender.

And NO, this is not necessarily religious—sometimes its specifically a-religious.

“I want to be an honorary man” women absolutely should NOT be conflated with butch lesbians, gender non-conformists, or frustrated FTMs. That plays right into myths the queer community has combated for decades. There’s a big difference between expressing one’s yang or being a trans man, and a desire to escape one’s womanhood or the company of other women. “Honorary men” women aren’t necessarily queer. I want to underscore that because the concrete example I’m about to give does happen to be queer.

I’ve talked before about Mary Renault’s problematic portrayal of women in her Greek novels (albeit her earlier hospital romances don’t show it as much). Her own recorded comments make it clear that she and her partner Julie Mullard didn’t want to be associated with other lesbians, or with women much at all. She was also born in 1905, living at a time when non-conforming women struggled. If extremely active in anti-apartheid movements in South Africa, Renault and Mullard were far less enthused by the Gay Rights Movement. Renault even criticized it, although she wrote back kindly to her gay fans.

The women in Renault’s Greek novels tend to be either bitches or helpless, reflecting popular male perceptions of women: both in ancient Greece and Renault’s own day. If we might argue she’s just being realistic, that ignores the fact one can write powerful women in historical novels and still keep it attitudinally accurate. June Rachuy Brindel, born in 1919, author of Ariadne and Phaedra, didn’t have the same problem, nor did Martha Rofheart, born in 1917, with My Name is Sappho. Brindel’s Ariadne is much more sympathetic than Renault’s (in The King Must Die).

Renault typically elevates (and identifies with) the “rational” male versus the “irrational” female. This isn’t just presenting how the Greeks viewed women; it reflects who she makes the heroes and villains in her books. Overall, “good” women are the compliant ones, and the compliant women are tertiary characters.

Women in earlier eras who were exceptional had to fight multiple layers of systemic misogyny. Some did feel they had to become honorary men in order to be taken seriously. I’d submit Renault bought into that, and it (unfortunately) shows in her fiction, as much as I admire other aspects of her novels.

So I think those are the three chief reasons we see women negatively portrayed in M/M Romance (or fiction more generally), despite being written by women authors.

------------------------------------

*Yeah, yeah, sometimes it’s such 2D, shallow, stereotypical presentation that I, as a reader, can conclude this author isn’t going to get any better. Also, the publication date might give me a clue. If I’m reading something published 50 years ago, casual misogyny or racism is probably not a surprise. If I don’t feel like dealing with that, I close the book and put it away.

But I do try to give the author a chance. I may skim ahead to see if things change, or at least suggest some sort of character development. This is even more the case with a series. Some series take a loooong view, and characters alter across several novels. Our instant-gratification world has made us impatient. Although by the same token, if one has to deal with racism or sexism constantly in the real world, one may not want to have to watch it unfold in a novel—even if it’s “fixed” later. If that’s you, put the book down and walk away. But I’d just suggest not writing a scathing review of a novel (or series) you haven’t finished. 😉

#misogyny in m/m romance #how to avoid misogyny writing women characters #writing complicated women characters #asks #writing life #writing advice

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lcdrarry · 5 years ago

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LCDrarry 2020 Master List

Dear lovely Participants, Creators, Alpha and Beta Readers, Commentors, Cheerleaders, Readers and Fans of our fest,

Our 2nd installment of LCDrarry is coming to an end, and we'd like to thank you all for taking part in our little fest, for creating so many amazing new Drarry works for us all to enjoy, for commenting on your favourite creations, for sharing and recommending the LCDrarry gems with your friends and blog followers, and for making this fest another amazing experience for us mods.

We hope we could bring you some joy and diversion in these trying times and send you lots of love, strength and perseverance wherever you are :*

Under the cut, you can find out who created what ;D The works are listed in the order they posted during the fest.

Happy reading & squeeing & don’t forget to follow your favourite creators!

~Your LCDrarry Mods Tami @celilasart and Suzi @erin-riwen

PS: Reblogs are very much appreciated <3

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Love, Actually, is All Around

Prompt: #180 | "Love, Actually" - 2003 - Richard Curtis Author: punk_rock_yuppie Word Count: 9,975 words Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: Wizarding Politics, Discriminiation, Slight power imbalance

Summary: It's Christmastime, and Harry has just started as the new Minister of Magic. It just so happens that Draco happens to work in his office as well, a holdover from Kingsley's tenure. Naturally, love is in the air.

Read "Love, Actually, is All Around" now on AO3.

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Drarry on Ice

Prompt: #150 | '"Yuuri!!! On Ice" - 2016 - Series Artist: RunningOutsideTheLines Art Medium: Traditional Art Rating: General Warnings: none

Summary: Harry and Draco find love on the ice. I love Yuuri on Ice and Harry and Draco seem like such a perfect fit for Victor and Yuuri. I'll leave it up to your imagination as far as which is which. This image is from the final scene when the two of them do a exhibition skate together.

View "Drarry on Ice" now on AO3.

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Boats, but Not the Ocean

Prompt: #203 | "Groundhog Day" - 1993 - Harold Ramis Author: p1013 Word Count: 15,551 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Very minor mention of suicide, some mild horror

Summary: If Draco ever gets his hands on this Bill Murray character, he's going to kill him.

Read "Boats, but Not the Ocean" now on AO3.

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When I Put My Eyes On You

Prompt: #193 | "The Way He Looks" - 2014 - Daniel Ribeiro Author: Zzzara Word Count: 31,155 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: When a hero defeats a villain, there's supposed to be a happily-ever-after... but when did anything ever happen to Harry Potter the way it was supposed to? Having sacrificed himself to the greater good, Harry is left alone in the darkness, blindly groping for the shreds of the life he knew. When the enemies meet, how is the story supposed to go, once they learn there's more to it than the eye can see? A story of pain, hope and things we discover, once we stop looking for them with our eyes.

Read "When I Put My Eyes On You" now on AO3.

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Spellbound

Prompt: #113 | "Overboard" - 1987 - Garry Marshall Author: mortenavida Word Count: 15,878 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: Amnesiac Draco Malfoy, Widowed Harry Potter, past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Dub-Con due to Amnesia (Only Kissing)

Summary: It’s been years since Harry left with Ginny to get away from the bad memories of war. The small town of Elk Cove, Oregon, had been a perfect place to raise their children. Now widowed, Harry works hard to make sure his children never want for anything. When an old rival steps into his life, everything changes and Harry finds the perfect opportunity to get back at Malfoy for everything the Slytherin did to him -- if he doesn’t regret falling for him first.

Read "Spellbound" now on AO3.

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Of Labcoats and Animagi

Prompt: #97 | "Queer Eye" - 2017 - Series Author: meandminniemcg Word Count: 10,868 words Rating: Mature Warnings: mention of past abuse, panic attack (tw at beginning of chapter, can be skipped)

Summary: Fashion icon Draco? That's long past. After the war, he never bought any new clothes and lives in his labcoats. When he doesn't feel confident enough to meet his pen friend Prongs in real life, Luna decides to stage an intervention with a little help from the Fab Five.

Read "Of Labcoats and Animagi" now on AO3.

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Title of Their Sex Tape

Prompt: #112 | "Brooklyn Nine Nine" - 2013 - Series Author: Cibee Word Count: 12,428 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: None

Summary: What are the Wizarding world's most elite law enforcers doing when they aren't catching criminals? It seems Auror Malfoy is often caught throwing food into Auror Potter's mouth when he's mid-yawn. This story isn't about Draco throwing food at Harry. What it does have is: Undercover! Heists! Draco pining for Harry! Harry being oblivious, but also can't help noticing how good Draco smells! Banters and jokes! That's about it.

Read "Title of Their Sex Tape" now on AO3.

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Harry Potter and the Beast

Prompt: #204 | "Beauty and the Beast" - 1991 - Gary Trousdale Author/Artist: Miakagrewup Word Count/Art Medium: 5,655 words/31 illustrated pages Rating: General Warnings: None

Summary: Arrogant prince Draco is cursed to live as a terrifying beast until he finds true love. This fairy tale consists of 31 fully illustrated pages.

Read "Harry Potter and the Beast" now on AO3.

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So Open Up My Eyes, Tell Me I'm Alive

Prompt: #191 | "Secret Garden" - 1993 - Agnieszka Holland Author: mycucumbereyes Word Count: 12,865 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: trauma, canon typical violence, homophobia, use of f-g/f----t, mention of suicidal thoughts, character with a disability

Summary: When Draco Malfoy comes to live at Godric’s Hollow, he finds it full of secrets. One night he hears the sound of crying…

Read "So Open Up My Eyes, Tell Me I'm Alive" now on AO3.

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i demand to dig my own grave

Prompt: #10 | "Psych" - 2006 - Series Author: M0stlyVoid Word Count: 20,836 words Rating: Mature Warnings: None

Summary: Draco finds himself in hot water with the Aurors, and in a burst of panicked inspiration manages to wiggle out of it by claiming to be a Seer. There's just one little problem– Senior Auror Harry Potter, the Prat Who Lived, who's known him for a decade, knows full well Draco doesn't have a single psychic bone in his body and seems determined to pull him up for it. Now, the Department is demanding he help them solve cases, Potter's looming over his shoulder at every turn, and worst of all, he hasn't had a shag in weeks because of all this bother. What's a pseudo-Seer to do?

Read "i demand to dig my own grave" now on AO3.

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As You Wish

Prompt: #37 | "The Princess Bride" - 1987 - Rob Reiner Author: Pineau_noir Word Count: 21,917 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: Canon-typical (Harry Potter and The Princess Bride) violence, mention of suicide, canon-typical character death

Summary: Draco was raised on a farm in the small country of Witshire; his favourite pastimes were flying on his broom and tormenting the hired farm boy. Though his name was Harry, Draco never called him that. On Harry's forehead there was a scar shaped like a lightning bolt, so Draco called him Scarhead. Nothing gave Draco as much pleasure as ordering Harry around.

Or a story about fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, True Love, and miracles.

Read "As You Wish" now on AO3.

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Queer Eye for the Drarry Guys

Prompt: #97 | "Queer Eye"- 2017 - Series Author: blowfish_diaries Word Count: 18,201 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: none

Summary: Teddy's dads are great! Really! They just need a little push from five *fabulous* gays to get them to see what's right in front of them.

Read "Queer Eye for the Drarry Guys" now on AO3.

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Casecation

Prompt: #112 | "Brooklyn Nine Nine" - 2013 - Series Author: Mfingenius Word Count: 4,293 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: AU, canon-typical discussion of heavy topics, discussion of mpreg

Summary: "Draco Malfoy, I swear to God-” Hermione snaps under her breath, causing Draco to laugh lowly as he ducks under a hanging plant pot. “Draco Potter, ‘Mione,” Harry murmurs with a helpless grin; they’re not really supposed to be speaking – they're walking through the halls of Antonin Dolohov’s beach house, on their way to arrest him – but Harry can’t help marking the difference, even a year after they got married. “Be quiet,” Ginny says, rolling her eyes. “If he hears us and escapes-” Draco signals at them, and they all steel themselves for when he throws the door of the bedroom open. “Shit!”

Read "Casecation" now on AO3.

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Don't Blink!

Prompt: #179 | "Dr Who" - 2007 - Series Author/Artist: Gnarf Art Medium: Digital art Rating: General Warnings: None

Summary: Harry had always had exceptionally bad timing. It's not different this time.

Read "Don't Blink!" now on AO3.

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A Demon and an Angel Visit the Ritz

Prompt: #167 | “Good Omens” - 2019 - Series Artist: ravenclawkward Art Medium: Digital Oil Painting Rating: General Warnings: None

Summary: Harry the demon and Draco the angel just finished saving the world. They've earned their celebration, wouldn't you say?

Read "A Demon and an Angel Visit the Ritz" now on AO3.

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Change on the Horizon

Prompt: #57 | "Shameless (US)" - 2011 - Series Author: static_abyss Word Count: 118,645 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Character with depression, mentions of not wanting to exist and lethargy, though no actual suicide or mentions of suicide. Unhealthy coping mechanisms, specifically not taking prescribed medication for depression. Internalized homophobia, and general homophobia from parental figures, though there is a happy ending. Casual relationships.

Summary: A canon AU drarry fic based on the relationship between Mickey and Ian from Shameless. A story about the aftereffects of the Second Wizarding War and how Draco and Harry come together and break apart over and over. How maybe, somewhere along the way, they find a way to live with themselves.

Read "Change on the Horizon" now on AO3.

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The Thrill of the Chase Moves in Mysterious Ways

Prompt: #192 | "Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries" - 2012 - Series Author: VeelaWings Word Count: 32,569 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Heavy Drinking, Smoking Cigars, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Minor Character Death, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Kidnapping, Non-Graphic Violence, Gun Violence, Poisoning

Summary:

“Do you have a personal interest in this case, Malfoy?” Harry asked, arms crossed and blocking the view of the body behind him.

“Not at all.” Draco smiled sweetly, cuddled into the side of tonight’s date. “Although I did briefly own that painting until it proved to be stolen.” He helpfully pointed to the Renaissance portrait a few metres to their left.

“Why is it always so complicated with you?”

+++++

Some people might argue that Draco didn’t have very good ideas. That was a lie. Draco had fantastic ideas, however, due to mankind having free will, the planning and execution of those ideas didn’t always pan out in his favor.

(Or — Draco solves crimes that don’t technically belong to him and Harry tries not to fall in love. Co-Starring: Hermione, High Heels, and Hiccups along the way. #dat 1920s lyfe)

Read "The Thrill of the Chase Moves in Mysterious Ways” now on AO3.

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Burn Your Life Down (but look back to me)

Prompt: #202 | Casablanca - 1942 - Michael Curtiz Author: Triggerlil Word Count: 35,910 words Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Warnings: Alternate Universe - World War II, Film Noir, Self-Medication, Alcohol, Infidelity (not between Harry and Draco), Smoking, Mention of Slavery and Human Trafficking

Summary:

It's been years since destiny walked into an apartment on Rue Azais, and Harry is over it. Really, he is. He has Blaise, he has his work, and if necessary, he still has his memories. But with the onset of WWII, the foundations of his life are crumbling, and suddenly a certain blond man is walking back into his life, asking Harry to make important, and dangerous, choices.

Read “Burn Your Life Down (but look back to me)” now on AO3.

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Super Rich Kids

Prompt: #24 | "The Bling Ring" - 2013 - Sofia Coppola Author: Thusspoketrish Word Count: 81,000 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Thriller, Murder, Dark Humour, Angst, Depression, Nihilism, Existenialism, Jealousy, Hurt/Comfort, Gaslighting, Very Brief Instance of Suicidal Ideation, Immorality, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence (not between Harry and Draco), Abusive Drug Use, Manipulative Behaviour, Heterosexual Sex, Threesomes, Candaulism, Possible Infidelity Due to Unclear Relationship Status (please read the tags on AO3 carefully, this list is not exhaustive)

Summary:

Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite. Enter: one existential crisis, one group of cynical friends, and several terrible, terrible decisions.

Read “Super Rich Kids” now on AO3.

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We Built This Right

Prompt: #48 | "Yuri on ice" - 2016 - Series Author: remy_writes5 Word Count: 15,344 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Homophobic Language, Anxiety, Strained Relationship with Parents

Summary:

At last year's Grand Prix Final, Harry had an accident that left him with a lightning scar on his forehead, a concussion and a twisted ankle. Now everyone is waiting to see if his career is over - including former rival, Draco Malfoy.

Read "We Built This Right” now on AO3.

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darkkitsuneprincess · 5 years ago

Text

Conquest (Nobunaga x Reader)

Finally! Something new and lovely! With the threat of Mitsuhide’s route release (major SQUEE action over here ‘cause I do love me some snek), the smut gears are churning again. With any luck it won’t take as long next time to post something new. So…here you go. Enjoy!

Title: Conquest Pairing: Nobunaga x Female Rating: M (again, very NSFW) Length: 4100 words Description: AU game of Go, now with smut action!

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The soft clack of wooden soles filled the empty hallway, a stark counterpoint to the knocking of my heart as I made my way to the tenshu. My hands shook against one another inside the sleeves of my kimono. My belly quivered. So much rode on my winning just one game of Go. If I had any hope of returning to my time—of returning home—I needed to withstand Nobunaga’s advances. He was determined, a man possessed if I were honest in my description, and I stood no chance. Even with regular tutelage in both gameplay and battle strategy from Mitsunari, I was fooling myself to believe I was any contest for that terrible and beautiful tactician’s mind.

Having reached the door to Nobunaga’s room, I hesitated. I always hesitated. My heart was his long before he pressed his hand to my chest and claimed it for his own. It had taken nearly dying for me to accept that truth. Yet now that we were back in Azuchi, back in this familiar space with nothing to stop us save my own inhibitions… my body quaked with a mix of anticipation and fear.

What would he choose to claim tonight? How would I react? Did I want to let myself be claimed if I couldn’t prove his love for me?

I didn’t know. I wanted him as much as I wanted the air I breathed and I was even willing to take on all the awful things that came with him—ruthlessness, cruelty for the greater good, death—so long as I knew I would be more than a temporary plaything. For him, for his love, I could choose to stay…

I pushed the thought away and tapped my fingers against the door, sealing my fate.

“Nobunaga, I’m here.”

“Enter.”

And so I did, sliding the door to the side and slipping in. The sight of him robbed me of breath. Nobunaga lounged against his armrest from behind the goban with a thin smile on his lips, a predator even in repose. He stalked me with his gaze as I crossed the room on unsteady legs and took my seat on the vacant cushion. His gaze was appreciative and hungry. Haughty, as if my losing was already a foregone conclusion.

I wouldn’t let myself dwell on the fact that I had no chance of beating him as I picked up my first stone and followed his opening volley with one of my own. We were silent as we placed our pieces, the soft clack of the stones the only sound in the room. This game was…different than the last. Nobunaga was focused yet not, his gaze traveling upward to my face more and more often as we claimed and lost territory. Despite my own distraction, I managed to hold my own until the very end. In a series of quick, incursive moves he wiped out the narrow lead I’d held for most of the game, crushing my territory in a solid and decisive victory.

“I win.”

…a phrase that haunted me. I stared at the goban in frustration. My losing was inevitable, yes, but no less annoying. Biting the inside of my cheek to keep from scowling, I leveled Nobunaga with a cold stare.

“So you did.”

He blinked in surprise. “No smart remarks from you?”

“What good would it do? You’ve already set the terms of our wager.”

“This is quite unlike you,” he responded. “Are you unwell, Y/N?”

“No.”

An arrogant smirk lifted one corner of his mouth. “Are you so desperate for my touch that you are willing to give in then?”

Yes. “No.”

“Then why not put up a fight?”

“Because you won.” He looked…disappointed almost, as if he’d expected a long battle. “Do you want me to fight?”

“I’ve come to expect it from you.”

“Well I’m just full of surprises, aren’t I?”

I found myself in his arms in the next breath, the sound of stones scattering across the tatami a distant echo behind the hammering of my heart as the spicy scents of cinnamon and incense surrounded me. My hands landed on his arms just above the elbows, my brain noting wildly in the moment that my hands didn’t even go half-way around.

“As am I,” he answered.

My skin prickled with awareness everywhere we touched. His ragged breath slipped over the skin of my throat, igniting the flame low in my belly as he leaned close and captured my earlobe between his teeth. I shivered, a tiny moan escaping my lips.

“Such sweet cries from one who shows no affect,” he murmured, his deep, sonorous voice rumbling through me and setting my nerve endings on fire. The tip of his nose moved down the line of my throat with the lightest of feathery touches then back up again. His fingers flexed against my hips, the warmth radiating from his body seeping into my skin through the layers of my kimono. “I would almost believe you enjoy yourself when I touch you.”

And there’s the trap, I thought.

Rather than implicate myself, I remained quiet, my fingers flexed against his arms to keep them from shaking while his lips slid over my skin to the split at the throat of my kimono. My head fell back and I bit my lip to keep from making another sound. He knew full well what he did to me. There was no need to stroke that massive ego of his further.

“What shall I claim tonight?” he asked, his lips moving against my skin. His fingers dropped to my leg where my kimono had bunched around my knees, sliding beneath the layers of fabric to tickle over my outer thigh. “I own so many parts of you, yet my lands are not connected. Your leg, your lap, your ear, your forehead, your hand…”

“You speak as if you’ve forgotten basic battle tactics,” I said. I was goading him and I knew it, but his touch did such wicked, wonderful things to me. “You may be a master at Go, but even I know that to win at Risk, you have to keep your territory intact.”

“What?” Nobunaga pulled back and looked down at me, curiosity burning in those beautiful, cinder-red eyes.

“A strategy game from my time. You start with a map of the world and use your armies to conquer the continents piece by piece.”

“It sounds delightful,” he said, a smile softening his sharp gaze. I knew I had his attention now. His curiosity was almost as insatiable as his hunger. “You will teach me this game.”

“Is that what you want for winning?” I question, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. “Me to teach you a game?”

“Absolutely not,” he answered without hesitation, his fingers digging into my sides to remind me exactly where I was. “I will claim my prize and learn everything you know of this game.” He leaned in again, nibbling along the cuff of my ear and winning another moan for his trouble. “And then I will use that knowledge to destroy you again and again.”

“That’s not fair!”

Nobunaga groaned despite the smile on his face when he pulled back. “Will you give me no peace, woman?” he asked, his devilish expression turning predatory.

“Probably not,” I replied.

His hands threaded through my hair, his long fingers massaging my scalp in the process. I shivered as those calloused fingertips traced my ear and slid down my throat. His touch was more intoxicating than any sake, more addictive than any drug. The tiny voice of reason in my mind told me I should put a stop to this, but my heart and body craved him.

“I continue to claim you bit by bit, yet those lips of yours protest. Your body responds…” His fingers drifted over my shoulder and down my arm, leaving a trail of tingling warmth in their wake. “…and it tells me you want this.” My hand rose in response to his touch and our fingers threaded together. “Then you deny me.” His other hand slid to the back of my head, closing around my hair. “Perhaps you will be willing to relinquish control of those beautiful lips now.”

“You are a warrior, yes?” I asked.

“Yes…”

“Then how can you possibly enjoy the conquest if I don’t resist?”

Nobunaga’s gaze darkened and his smirk grew into a feral, hungry grin. “So you want to be hunted…to be claimed.”

In a breath I was on my back on the tatami, his large, muscular frame over me and filling my vision. Gone was the cold façade of the conqueror, replaced with a fiery new passion I’d never seen before. That look in his eyes, beautiful and desperate, it burned.

“If being claimed is what you desire…”

“You only get to claim one thing,” I reminded him at the same time I pushed against him. He did not move even an inch.

“But the choice is still mine,” he responded and began to map with his lips the parts of me he’d already taken—my hand, my ear, my forehead, my leg, his palm over my heart…

“Make your selection, Devil King.”

The flames in his carnelian eyes burned hotter and his smile twisted into something almost cruel.

“The Devil King is not interested in petty acquisitions,” he said, leaning in to drag the tip of his nose along my throat. “No…I want complete submission. Tonight you will give everything to me.”

“All is fair in love and war, Nobunaga. I will not submit.” I pushed harder against him and slipped away, rising on shaky legs to put some distance between the two of us. I couldn’t think with him so close, taking up all my attention.

Nobunaga tracked me with his gaze as I moved to the other side of the room and slid open the balcony door. He was enjoying this. Truth be told, so was I. My safety was never once in question; if I asked him to stop, he would. OF that one thing I was certain.

“Do you still intend to return to your time?” he asked, his rich, deep voice hinting at uncertainty.

“I…” I had thought so much about it but had yet to come to a conclusion. These games, his driving need for me to look only at him, the way I felt in his arms… Sasuke told me not to get attached, but I’d gone and done it without realizing it. I wanted Nobunaga and everything he was willing to give me. I could tell myself that now because to do otherwise would be unfair to either of us. Yet the thought that he could so callously take lives in the name of his ambition, though…

“My fireball is without retort.” He rose to his feet, fluid and graceful despite his considerable size. “How interesting.”

“I am not a toy, Nobunaga.”

“No…” he replied, eating up the distance between us with long strides. “My toys do not talk back to me.” Those long, lean fingers closed around my jaw. His thumb grazed my bottom lip. His eyes burned with that cold fire.

“If I claim these tonight,” he did it again, “will you try to stop me?”

I stared up at him, mouth open, breath coming in small gasps. Would I ask him to stop? Did I have the strength to push him away again?

“You’ve taken my heart,” I said, my voice thin and raspy against his fingertips, “what could be more important than that?”

“Is that…surrender I hear?” he questioned, closing the distance between us while his thumb continued to toy with my lips.

“Not even close,” I responded, catching his thumb between my teeth and biting harder than necessary. Nobunaga grunted in response, his gaze darkening as it focused on the spot where I, for once, held him captive.

“You are brave,” he said, pushing his thumb deeper into my mouth. Swirling my tongue around the callused digit, I reveled in the salty-sweet taste of his skin. I closed my lips around his knuckle, suckling gently and drawing a gasp from his throat. “Naughty girl,” he added, ripping his thump from my mouth as he closed the distance and claimed my lips.

Oh… Oooohhhh…..

He held me by the throat and the back of my head, plunging his tongue between my open lips and drawing me into a delicious new battle. His cinnamon-and-incense scent was infused into his lips, and I couldn’t stop the moan from rising as I twined my own tongue with his, enjoying this new kind of warfare.

My back hit the wall and Nobunaga’s strong arms caged me in. This man now owned me, body and soul. I only hoped I could live up to whatever expectations he’d built in his mind.

Nobunaga broke away from my mouth, his lips leaving a fiery trail along my jaw to my ear, then down my throat. Before I realized what was happening he had my kimono open, kissing and licking his way over my collarbone toward my breasts. My fingers carded through his soft, thick hair and my head fell back against the wall with a soft thump. I never wanted this feeling to end, but my competitive spirit flared to life under his touch.

“Nobunaga…” I gasped as his lips closed on the aching peak of my left breast. His hand rested above it and my heart hammered against his touch, urging him onward as he licked and suckled at my sensitive flesh. “That’s—mmm—that’s not…not your t-t-terri—ngghh—territory…”

“It’s too late for revolt,” he answered through his teeth, without letting go of my nipple.

“It isn’t revolt if you never had control of the territory in the first place.”

He let go of me with a wet pop and laughed. The jerk actually laughed at me. “So you’ve declared war against me, have you?” A smile slid onto his lips but a shiver overtook him as I moved my fingers against his scalp, dangerously close to the back of his neck. He tensed as if waiting for me to launch an attack.

“I did nothing of the sort. You declared war against me the moment you placed the goban between us.”

“Then you should save yourself the heartache and surrender to me.”

“There is no honor in surrender.”

His mouth fell open in a flash of surprise. Then Nobunaga raised one eyebrow and his smile widened further. The look in his eyes was one of pure heat. He was enjoying this as much as I was. “You do remember who I am, yes?”

“Of course.”

“Then who am I?” he asked, his fingers tickling along the length of my leg and causing me to shiver. My kimono hung open to the floor. He could have taken advantage at any moment, but he remained in his territory, his gaze locked firmly on mine.

“You,” I started, pulling my fingers from his hair. I placed my hand against his cheek, allowing his warmth to seep into my skin, “are the Oda Nobunaga, one of Japan’s great unifiers.” I allowed my smile to widen and my eyes to narrow. “and you are on your knees in front of me.” I captured his jaw in my other hand as his eyes widened, holding him tightly as I leaned close—so close that I could feel his ragged breath against my lips. “It would appear, my Lord, that you have submitted to me.”

“Have I?”

His gaze darkened and his fingers ceased their teasing torment along my skin. Something flashed in his eyes—something dangerous—and for a moment I wondered if I’d taken this game too far.

Too late now.

“A man who goes to his knees willingly is one who submits, is he not?”

Nobunaga laughed. The sound rumbled through me, spreading more of that delicious, tingling heat in its wake. “First rule of warfare, little one,” he said, and before I could draw my next breath, my back was against the cover of the futon, “when you have a man on his knees, you should always bind his hands so he cannot attack.” My kimono lay open on either side, the evening air cool against my overheated skin. Nobunaga held himself above me, his lower half nestled between my parted thighs. Everywhere he touched burned.

He captured my earlobe between his teeth, worrying it until I moaned with a mix of pleasure and pain. “A cornered man on the verge of surrender is often a desperate man.” He turned his attention to my neck, leaving small, stinging bites on my skin. “And a desperate man will stop at nothing to win.”

Nobunaga returned to my lips, drawing me into another rough, battling kiss, and when he released his hold on my mouth, my hands were bound above my head with my own obi cord.

“Do you know what I do to those who demand my submission?” he asked, teeth raking over my neck again. I stared up into his gaze and shook my head slowly. “I crush them beneath me.” Nobunaga flexed his hips against my core, unquestionable proof that he now had complete control over me. He stilled, dropping his mouth to my ear, and took a deep breath. “If you do not want this, Y/N, tell me now because I have no intention of stopping.”

His words excited me. Despite his complete domination of me, he was still concerned about my well-being. That alone urged me onward as I reached up with my bound wrists and took his face in my hands, drawing his mouth back to mine. He kissed me like a man possessed, with all the passion and fury locked inside his ice-bound heart.

“I will not submit,” I said, my voice small and shaking when we parted, and his eyes darkened further as if he waited for the perfect moment to deliver the death blow, “not without a fight.” Surprise filtered into his features and I thrust my hips upward, knocking him off balance just enough to be able to hook my leg over his and flip him onto his back. His surprise turned to shock and amusement as he found himself on his back, his wrists in my tied hands against the floor. I leaned over his big body, my unbound breasts pressing against his chest as I dropped my mouth close to his ear. “I can also demand submission,” I said, my lips grazing the cuff of his ear and causing him to shiver. A growl rumbled out of his throat and his hands flexed under mine, reminding me that he only allowed me the appearance of control.

“Demand what you like,” Nobunaga replied, a smile splitting his beautiful face, “it appears you and I seek the same goal.” He punctuated his words with an upward thrust of his hips. His arousal became apparent as his cock slid against my core, halted only by the fabric of his night robes.

Then I was on my back again, Nobunaga’s embrace gentle and his kiss punishing. He tore away the remainder of his clothing with one hand and settled his hips between my thighs. Those long, calloused fingers moved over my thigh to my hip, then between our bodies to seek out my wet heat. He dipped one finger inside and I answered with a moan.

“I see my little conqueror enjoys losing,” he said, laughing against my lips as a second finger joined in, pushing deep and stretching, preparing me. “It was an impressive battle,” he continued, curling his fingers up and finding that secret, sensitive place that caused my hips to rise of their own accord, chasing that bright point of pleasure, “and now I shall claim my reward.”

“Nobunaga…” I gasped as his fingers vanished, his name sliding into a long, low moan as he pushed inside, filling me almost to the point of pain. An answering rumble issued from his throat as we came together. Only when he was fully seated inside me did the sound die away.

“Mine…” he growled, catching my ear between his teeth once more as he began to move. My hips rose to meet his deep, hard thrusts, my body begging for more under his fast, steady rhythm. I looped my bound arms around his neck and clung to him desperately, my lips seeking purchase along his shoulder, at the base of his throat; anywhere I could touch became my territory as he drove me higher and higher into the most intense, sublime pleasure of my life. “Mine…” he groaned again, repeating the word like a prayer punctuated with tiny, stinging bites over my skin and long, delicious kisses. My belly quivered in anticipation as that knot of pleasure curled tighter and tighter, urged on by the draw and drag of his heavy member moving inside me. Nobunaga shifted his position, deepening his reach and bringing his hips down against me with each thrust. My fingernails dug into his shoulders, my head thrown back in ecstasy, and I shattered.

My channel tightened, drawing him deeper still as wave after wave of the most exquisite pleasure crashed over me. Still he rode me through it, his rhythm increasing and pushing me higher until he seated his hips fully against me and came with a loud, desperate moan.

Nobunaga collapsed against me, breathing hard, and I held him to me as we came down from the pleasure high, his hips still gently rocking and my own rising to meet his movements. Tiny aftershocks of pleasure jolted my core as the realization of what I’d done tried to take control. I’d given him everything he wanted without securing my own requirements. But the way he’d looked at me…

I pushed the thoughts away, leaning up to kiss the top of his head. His soft, feathery hair tickled my face and I felt his cheek tighten against my chest as he smiled. Nobunaga pulled my arms from around his neck and rolled, pulling me to lay atop his body yet retaining our intimate connection. He released my wrists, kissing the angry, red lines where the silk had burned my skin. His fingers combed through my hair and slid down my back, holding me to him.

“You are a truly amazing creature, Y/N.” He laughed, the sound rumbling all the way through me and rekindling that fire burning in my core. I looked up, suddenly bashful as he stared down his nose at me with a new intensity to his gaze.

“How so?”

“You bring out both the best and worst in me.” He punctuated the statement with an upward thrust of his hips that told me he was nowhere near finished. He was still inside me, and his cock was already stiffening again. The action drew a low, weak moan out of me. “You allow me to play out the most lurid of fantasies. You give me exactly what I need.”

“A-and what is…is that?” I asked, fighting to stay focused on his words as his movements under me became more pronounced.

“A beautiful, entertaining bedmate of which I may never tire,” he answered, sitting up and capturing my mouth as he brought my hips down hard against his. He held me in his lap, my legs bent on either side of him, and thrust upward again, urging me to move. Those big, broad arms closed around me, placing me exactly where he wanted me as he continued his slow, languid kiss.

This second round was less desperate; slower, more intimate. We kissed long and deep, his tongue twining around mine and expressing the affection he couldn’t vocalize. My hips rocked against his slow thrusts, tilting so that each time we came together, the brush of his hips stimulated me further. Though we were less frantic, every sensation seemed heightened. It was less about chasing the climax than enjoying the moment, and enjoy it we certainly did.

Nobunaga held me tight, his fingers dancing over my skin as we moved together, our bodies instinctually finding a rhythm together and stoking those low-burning flames until we came together in a strangled series of whispers and moans.

We collapsed together into the bed, exhausted and delirious with pleasure. I dozed against his shoulder. He slept with his head against my breast, never allowing me farther away than his arms could reach. Throughout the night we sought the warmth and pleasure of each other’s bodies time and time again until the sun began to rise.

#ikemen sengoku #ikemen sengoku fanfiction #ikesen #ikesen smut #ikesen fanfic #ikesen nobunaga #ikemen sengoku nobunaga #ikemen sengoku fanfic

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snappedsky · 4 years ago

Text

Fanatics 81.4

Round One: Pepito vs Zoli

*Links to previous and next chapters in reblog*

Reawakening Part 4

Squee lies on the couch, his eyes closed as he gently strokes Nugget’s back, enjoying the peace and quiet. But that’s all quickly shattered by one annoying voice.

“You’re kind of selfish, huh.” Squee’s eyes crack open to briefly glare at Squishy Pete, who is sitting on the coffee table, before he closes them again.

“I mean, just look at you,” Pete continues, “enjoying this alone time while your friends are out there, worrying about you. Are you even thinking about them? Do you even care what they’re doing?”

Squee’s face scrunches up with irritation as he tries to ignore the stress toy.

“Johnny’s been gone a long time, huh?”

His eyes fly open and he looks over at Pete.

“What, you’re just noticing now?” he scoffs, “wow, you really are selfish. Something terrible could’ve happened to him and you’re not even worried about it. He could’ve gotten into a car accident. He could be hurt somewhere. Or worse.”

Squee sits up, his eyes darting around nervously as he contemplates those words. Then he grabs his cellphone and calls Devi.

“Hello?” she answers.

“H-Hey, Devi,” Squee replies, trying to keep his voice steady. “Is Nny with you?”

“No, he just dropped us off about twenty minutes ago. Why? Is he not home yet?”

“N-not yet. B-but I’m sure it’s fine,” he insists, “he probably just stopped at the store to get a BrainFreezy or something.”

“Right…” Devi grunts, “well, if he’s not home in an hour, call me, okay?” “Okay.” Squee hangs up and leans forward. He stares at the floor, a million terrible thoughts running through his head. Then Nugget meows at him. He sighs and gently scratches her head.

“Everything’s okay, Nugget,” he says.

“Even lying to a cat,” Pete tuts, “so selfish. And so truly alone.” Meanwhile, across the city, Zim, Dib, Gaz, Tak, and Pepito prepare to fight Zoli. She grins with amusement as she leisurely approaches them, scythe resting on her shoulder.

“Let’s see,” she purrs as she waves her finger before pointing it at Tak. “Tak, the failed Irken. Abandoned by your leaders and people, forced to join up with your previous enemy just to avoid a lifetime of loneliness.”

“What?” Tak gasps.

“Gaz,” Zoli continues, “the seemingly unfeeling gamer. Not a care in the world. But the future is approaching quickly. What are you going to do when the world comes crashing down on you and you can’t just escape into video games anymore?”

Gaz flinches, taken aback.

“Dib: the paranormal investigator. But you can’t even accomplish that, can you? Deep down you know you’re nothing but a failure and a disappointment, even to yourself.” “Tha-that’s not…” Dib stammers.

“Hey!” Zim barks, “who do you think you are, talking like you know us?” “And speaking of failures, here’s the King of Failures himself,” Zoli laughs, “Zim, the defective invader. Hated so much by his own kind he was sent to the farthest corner of the universe. And still so hated that they try to destroy him every chance they get.”

Zim scoffs, “whatever. Zim doesn’t care what they think anymore.”

“Maybe not. But you care what you think. I wonder how you feel about the fact that all you want is to rule this miserable planet, but after years of living here, you’ve never gotten close.”

Zim freezes, unable to reply.

“Enough,” Pepito snaps as he steps forward. “Don’t listen to her, guys. This is what they do. They wear your down with your own dark thoughts and feelings.”

“Ah, the Antichrist,” Zoli smiles, “oops, I mean rock star. Sorry, I forgot you’re a little sensitive about your previous title.”

“Your words have no effect on me, witch,” he snarls as he brandishes his spear. “I know all about your tricks. You can’t break me.”

“Hm,” she purrs and lifts her scythe. “Sounds like a challenge. Come on then. Show me what you got, little monster.”

Pepito charges forward and his spear clashes against Zoli’s scythe. She grins as he glares at her. Then Nightmare tendrils burst from her back and lash at him. But before they can connect, Pepito’s wings tear through his shirt and he takes off into the air.

Zoli watches him as he flies overhead. Then he swings his spear, releasing a wave of black energy. Her tendrils block it and lunge towards him. Pepito slices their tips off, but they quickly regenerate into mouths full of little fangs. They bite into Pepito, his legs, arms, and chest. He grits his fangs in pain and growls with exertion before releasing a swell of black energy from his whole body that blasts the tendrils apart.

“Impressive,” Zoli comments.

Pepito glares at her, his red eye glowing aggressively. He dive bombs towards her and swings his spear, releasing another wave of energy. A fresh crowd of tendrils burst from her back to block it and charge Pepito. He swings his spear, slicing through them like sushi, until he’s face to face with Zoli. He swings his spear; she swings her scythe. When they clash, the shockwave nearly knocks back Zim and the others.

Pepito and Zoli hold each other in a parry, glaring over their blades. Then Zoli grins.

“You have potential,” she says.

Pepito’s eyes widen with surprise as he feels Zoli’s strength growing. He cries out as she knocks him back and he skids across the ground.

“Pepito!” his friends exclaim and rush to his side. He struggles to sit up and glares at Zoli as she approaches.

“But it’s not enough,” she says, “you’re not a monster. You’re just a baby held back by your own fear.” Pepito’s glare weakens and he looks away. Zoli’s grin widens.

---

“Nny. Wake up, Nny.”

Johnny’s eyes blink open to pure whiteness. He rubs his head as he sits up, looking around. He’s in some kind of endless white space.

“Where…am I…” he mutters.

“Hello, Nny.”

“That voice,” he gasps and turns around. “It couldn’t be…” Floating in front of him is a bunny corpse, a nail puncturing his chest.

“Nailbunny,” he breathes.

“It’s good to see you again, Nny,” the bunny says without moving his mouth.

“It’s uh good to see you too,” Johnny replies, “where are we? I remember fighting Zoli and…oh. Am I dead? Like for real this time.”

“Not exactly,” Nailbunny replies, “although you’re not really alive either. What happens next is up to you.”

“What do you mean?” “What I’m about to explain to you might be confusing, so bear with me. Every once in a while, a person with extraordinary abilities is born. Squee is one such person. With his magnificent imagination he is able to change and manipulate reality to a certain degree. This also makes his body slightly stronger than most humans, manifesting as incredible speed and agility.”

“Nny. You are also such a person.”

“Me?” Johnny questions, “but I haven’t been able to use my imagination for years.”

“Yes,” Nailbunny sighs sadly, “unfortunately, because of your prolonged exposure to the Nightmare, your imagination is damaged beyond repair. Nevertheless, your body still retains the benefits. I’m sure you’ve noticed your heightened durability and strength.”

“Well, yeah, I have often wondered about that,” Johnny agrees.

“Your body’s capacity has only arisen when under extreme duress, but you can change that,” Nailbunny explains, “all you need to do is take control.”

“I am in control,” Johnny states as he stands up. “It’s my body. I should be the one to decide when it uses its power, not my anger. I’m the one in control!”

Nailbunny stares at him warmly. “I’m proud of you, Nny.” Johnny freezes, looking at him with surprise. “R-really?”

“Yes,” he nods, “you’ve grown. Now, wake up. For real this time.”

Johnny smiles at his old rabbit before closing his eyes.

---

Two construction workers hop out of their truck and approach the recently collapsed building.

“Ugh, what a pain in the ass,” one grunts.

“Yeah,” the other sighs, “why do so many buildings keep collapsing?”

“Monsters.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffs and they both laugh.

“Anyway,” the first groans, “let’s get to work.”

They start surrounding the rubble with ‘Do Not Cross’ tape. As the second man rounds the corner, he spots something on the ground and cries out in disgust.

“Dude, check this out,” he exclaims. His partner joins him to find a human hand sticking out from under the rubble.

“Eeewww,” the first worker cringes. “I am not looking forward to digging that up.”

They start to walk away when the second worker notices a finger twitch.

“GAh!” he exclaims, jumping back.

“What?” his partner questions.

“It just moved!”

“What? Shut up, man. Don’t try to scare me.”

“I’m serious!” the second worker insists. “The finger moved!”

“It’s just twitching,” the first worker argues, “no big deal.”

The hand suddenly digs into the ground, its fingers tearing into the asphalt. Both workers shriek and fall backwards.

The hand cracks the ground beneath it as the pile of rubble over top of it shifts and lifts up. The workers watch, aghast as it raises higher, staring at the person lifting it up.

He steps out from beneath the wreckage, letting it crash back down behind him, exhaling with relief. His black trench coat is torn up around the hem and sleeves, his black hair is a mess, and his face is smeared with blood and dirt. But the workers are more focused on his eyes; his horrifying, murderous eyes.

“Zoli,” he snarls. He steps forward and the workers soil themselves. And then in an instant, he’s gone.

#invader zim #invader zim fanfiction #johnny the homicidal maniac #johnny the homicidal maniac fanfiction #iz jthm crossover #myart #myocs

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atreefullofmonkiesonnitrous · 5 years ago

Text

Remeber When I Moved In You

AO3 link Thanks to @waywren For Beta and Squee The thing about Adam Young, on That day especially, was that he was an eleven year old human boy, who knew everything. But, for the most part, he knew everything the way an eleven year old human knows things. Oh, he was a very bright human, definitely a wise one, but still, an eleven year old human boy. He rather had to be, for it all to work out as it did. So while he may have known, in the part of him that knew everything, that Angels weren’t at all like people, he also knew, in the part of him that was doing the driving, that Angels were basically people with wings. So when his power was building Aziraphale’s new body, his mind had a bit of an influence about what went into a body. Aziraphale likely would have taken better stock of himself, but there were Horsemen, and this surprisingly nice young anti-christ, and he just had other things on his mind. When you are pretty sure you are about to die, you generally don’t take much time to consider if you’ve gotten your tie right.

On the bus ride home Aziraphale’s mind was caught entirely in the last prophecy, and his body, left to its own devices, was enacting a slow motion collapse into the demon next to him. He only became aware of this when Crowley moved his arm out from under him. Their entwined hands had been so nice, but he guessed that was a bit much to ask for the whole way home. “Oh dear, so sorry…” he began. Crowley continued to brood out the window.

“You should be, my bloody arms gone to sleep.” He sounded gruff but he wrapped the “sleepy” appendage around the angel and pulled him in against his side. Aziraphale sighed and leaned in. The ride to London passed then, in a churning mixture of dread, hope and a glimpse at a new kind of profound comfort.

Crowley opened the door to his flat and immediately sauntered in, leaving Aziraphale to close the door behind himself. It could have felt astonishingly rude, just leaving a guest to themselves without any invitation to come further, but the angel knew it was the opposite. You don’t show a man around a place he already belongs in, and despite hardly ever having been there before, Aziraphale belonged in the flat, because it was Crowley’s and from this point on, they each belonged wherever the other was. That there was nothing of him in it didn’t much signify, there was hardly anything of Crowley in it either, but there was Crowley himself, and that was all that mattered. They were, indeed, their own side. Heaven and Hell and them. The Earth, he supposed. That had been what it had been about, saving the earth, and all the humans, and all the wonderful complexity. And each other, if they were very very lucky.

Crowley came back from the kitchen with two glasses and a rather small bottle.

“I’ve got a Malivoire Shiraz I’ve been saving,” he wiggled the bottle “frozen on the vine and everything.” It was a sweet gesture, though Aziraphale knew better than to say so just at the moment. Crowley had never shared his sweet tooth, so the bottle could only have been acquired with him in mind. He smiled softly. “That sounds lovely.” Crowley pulled out the slightly less ornate chair from the corner for Aziraphale before draping himself bonelessly across his ridiculous throne. Which was just fine as that chair was facing away from the rather interesting statue with implications the angel was not quite ready to contemplate. The bottle continued to pour for an unreasonable amount of time, given its tiny size, but it’s not as if either of them were worried about misused power at this point.

“I just thought...,” Aziraphale started, stopped, blinked, and began again, “I just thought, which one is Mr. Young’s real son, do you think?” Crowley was staring at him, pupils almost round in the dim light. It seemed to take the question a moment to percolate its way through the layer of wine and into his consciousness.

“Oh, erm, our Warlock, I suppose. Had a bit of the look to him.” “Ah, yes. Then what of the Amearican diplomat’s son?”

Crowley thought about the fire. He thought about the timing. He thought about telling Aziraphale about those things. Then he thought about Sister Mary Loquacious.

“Adopted out, I expect. Records would have been lost in the fire,” he said, glad to have a plausible answer that he was willing to say aloud, and might even be true, for all he knew.

“I expect so, yes,” the angel gave a relieved sigh. “It’s amazing the Youngs never noticed their son had the wrong sort of face,” he mused. Then he sat bolt upright and looked at Crowley, who was staring back at him with wide eyes.

“Do you think?” “She couldn’t mean!” “That cunning old witch,” Crowley breathed.

“What good will it do to endure each other’s torments, though?” “Hastur wasn’t going on about torments when I escaped him,” Crowley replied. “And he really could have done.They are kind of our thing after all, and he’s considered an artist. Nah, he was much more direct, right on to the killing. I imagine your lot are feeling about the same.”

“Yes, well, as you say, we don’t much go in for tormenting Upstairs.” Crowley thought about who it was that had tossed them all in their pit, and wanted to disagree, but didn’t see the point in bringing it up now. “And what’s the only thing that can kill a demon?” Crowley was beginning to get excited.

“Holy items… Oh Yes, I see!” Aziraphael jumped up. Crowley held up a finger.

“Right. Theory is all well and good, but in practice. I mean how? How do we switch?”

“Possession.” The angel responded instantly. “Our corporeal vessels are basically bodies we are inhabiting, they aren’t really all that different. We could make the same modifications to any body if we were sole inhabitant.”

“There’s a catch, though. We are going to have to be convincing. They’ve known us for as long as we’ve existed, more or less. We have to convince them we’re who we appear to be. Do it so well they don’t try to look past the surface.” “Darling,” Aziraphale, excited, drunk, and feeling very daring, patted the demon’s cheek. “I hardly think anyone knows either of us half so well as we know each other by now.”

For a task so serious, Crowley laughed more in the next few hours than he had in the previous few centuries. Almost as soon as they had worked out how to possess each other’s bodies, Aziraphale had fallen flat on his arse when he misjudged the length of his new stride. Crowley laughed at him right up until he knocked over a vase turning around too close to a table, and forgetting that his own arse was several inches lower, and rather fuller than he was accustomed to. Aziraphale also kept doing this thing with his, well Crowley’s, face.

“What on earth are you doing? I absolutely do NOT go around looking like that!” “I’m trying to get your eyes to focus! Everything is either blurry or glowing.”

“Yeah, sorry that’s just what the world looks like with snake eyes. The glowing is either the UV or infrared.” Cowley held out the dark glasses he’d left on the table earlier. “You’ll find these a great help, my dear boy.[^1]Specially enchanted.” Aziraphale almost dropped the glasses trying to grab them, his face suddenly flaming. Crowley cocked his head. “Did I not get the voice right? Lay it on too thick?”

“No, err, nahh,” the angel stammered a bit before falling into the looser cadence of Crowley’s speech. “Nahh, you had it. Took me by s’prise is all. This what I always look like to you? With the glowing?”

Crowley squirmed a bit, and found Aziraphale’s body much harder to squirm in. “Well, yes, it has to do with the spectrums you see. You are very warm, and white is very reflective in ultraviolet. Put on the glasses, do, they’ll make everything right.” Crowley found he was almost more uncomfortable having his cursed eyes seen through than seen. From the outside they looked odd, but several angels had odd eyes, too. From inside it was much clearer just how much of a mark of the animal they were, and much as he didn’t like Aziraphale thinking of them at all, and especially like that, he needed to be sure the angel understood what he’d be walkinging into. “Remember that lots of them down there will be like that. Have weird eyes, or other senses. Never assume they can’t be watching, even if you can’t see them or feel them.”

“They will only see what we mean them to see,” Aziraphale declared, attempting to sashay around the room in Crowley’s distracting loose limbed fashion. He felt the limbs of the corporation were, in fact, looser than he was accustomed to, but that still did not account for how very much Crowley tended to sway his ass.

“Oh come off it, I do not shimmy my butt that much!” the demon protested. “You most certainly do!” “I never did!” “You wiggle more that shape than as a snake!” Azirapale countered, before thinking that he might not want to admit, at quite this juncture, exactly how much of his attention he’d devoted to watching that particular wiggle.

“You might see better, if you recall that my body does need to blink from time to time,” he deflected. Crowley made exaggerated slow cat blinks back at him and folded his hands primly in his lap. Aziraphale tried to duplicate one of Crowley’s many sneers in response, then tested a few others. They all felt strange.

“I have no idea what you are trying to do with my face angel, but I’m sure I don’t ever do that. I think you are trying to do is this,” Crowley’s sneer looked very little like itself on Aziraphale’s face.

“I’ve been watching your face make that expression for 6,000 years, doing it with mine is hardly going to help. It’s hard to tell what I’m doing from this side of the face!”

“Very well, my dear,” Crowley miracled up a pair of mirrors for them to test their faces with. It was a bit hard to keep focus though, when Aziraphale kept making his face do such strange things. He caught a glimpse of himself in the other mirror then, watching the angel’s japes and was struck by the thought that he, perhaps, had seen that particular look on this face when the proper occupant was in it. Which was a thought full of possibilities so rich he found himself even more determined to survive.

“Think I’ve got your number now,” Aziraphale crowed. “Maybe I should splash around a bit, see how many of them I can catch?” The expression he gave should have been ridiculous. A not-quite-a-smile that turned sinister somewhere around the eyes. It should have been impossible to make something so cute and rabbit-like threatening. It was absolutely terrifying.

“Yes well,” Crowley adjusted his cuffs.[^2]

“Let’s not go too far, hmm? We want them scared into rationality, not out of it.” He thought he really was getting the hang of the beatific smile.

If faces had been a round of silly buggers, walking for more than a few steps was a combination of hilarious and horrifying that Crowley, for one, was not eager to repeat. They had both fallen flat more than a few times due to floors that were either too close or too far away. Feet were Entirely the Wrong Sizes. Aziraphale persisted in swinging his hips around in a fashion that the demon felt was well into parody.[^3]

The attempt at stairs would have taken years off Crowley’s life, if he’d had a definite lifespan. Aziraphale came down too hard on the first step, misjudging his leg, and Crowley missed his grab at him, because his arm had about 2 less inches than he expected. A quick miracle was all that saved him from real injury. The Angel shouting “Oh Fuck” on the way down was a further distraction.

“Didn’t know you used profanity like that, Angel” Crowley jibed to cover his reaction at watching Aziraphale take any kind of fall.

“There is nothing profane about the act of love in the right context, my dear,” Aziraphale tried to project cool, but had been shocked into his own speech patterns, which could get them both killed if he didn’t watch it. Crowley’s mind was eating its own tail stuck on the implications he might draw from the casual yet firm conviction in the angel’s tone on that matter.

“Then why use it as a curse, my dear,” he found his mouth said with very little input from the higher brain functions.

“Well, ‘s just what you say, ‘innit,” Aziraphale forced himself back into Crowley’s speech patterns.

They retreated back to flat surfaces for a bit longer after that. A few plants and objects d’art paid the price of Aziraphale trying to teach the gavotte as an exercise in limb usage. They didn’t even make it to the kissing part, which was both a relief and a vexation.

Still, by the time false dawn was pearling the sky, they were as good a pair of duplicates as they could make themselves, and that was very good indeed. Aziraphale looked at the large clear puddle that still marked a corner of the flat Crowley had been avoiding. “Right. One last test then, and we’ll know this rubbish will actually work.” He summoned up a towel and bucket and headed over.

“Do start with the left hand, darling, I’m rather partial to the right,” Crowley instructed, trying to sound flippant, but not quite hitting the mark. Aziraphale repeated to himself that the corporations had no inherent connections to the beings who habitually wore them. What mattered was that he was an angel, and holy water was his to hold and use. It would not harm this body so long as he was its sole occupant. He reached out, left hand first though that was surely unnecessary, and began to use the towel to clean up the mess that looked like pure clear water, and had once been a demon. It felt no different than Holy Water ever did, and he turned to show Crowley his undamaged hand. “Right as rain,” he said. “Let’s go give them heaven.”

Footnotes

[^1]: It had not occurred to Aziraphale that he used that particular endearment with Crowley often enough for Crowley to have picked it up that much, and he was suddenly VERY glad Crowley, having slept through the Victorian era, didn’t know the full connotations of the phrase, or perhaps very not glad. It was honestly rather confusing.

[^2]: No wonder Aziraphale was always fussing with his clothes, with this many layers, even perfectly tailored clothes seemed to always have some bit out of place.

[^3]: In fact, the hip swinging was barely into the believable range. It was difficult, even in Crowley’s skin, to lead with his hips quite like that, though the indecent tightness of the trousers helped. It was hard not to wiggle just to try to take a step.

#ineffable spouses #ineffable husbands #armageddidn't #my fic #good omens fic #Good Omens

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fullmetalscullyy · 6 years ago

Note

Hello!! I've been stalking your blog for the past few days and I absolutely adore it omg

i’m literally squeeing rn omfg kejagkjeafg i love you so much thank you for your kind words!! :’)

sorry this took a wee while, i’ve had other projects i’ve been working on first but to anyone who has sent an ask they are coming! don’t worry! i have to get that word count for nano after all ;)

“Where’s Hawkeye and Fuery?” Roy shouted over the sound ofgunfire. A bullet clipped the top of the wall he was hiding behind, reboundingup into the air, the sound making him cringe and duck down further. His thighsburned thanks to his current position, cramping up as he tried to shiftslightly to get out from behind his cover.

But it was to no avail.

“Havoc!” he yelled, calling out to his comrade across fromhim on the other side of the alley.

“I don’t know, boss,” he cried a hint of desperation in histone. He looked helplessly back at his commanding officer, fear in his eyesthat the worst had happened to the two of them.

“The Lieutenant has been dealt with,” a smooth voice repliedas the gunfire stopped. Roy’s skin prickled, fear burning into every fibre ofhis being.

Lust.

No, Hawkeye wouldn’t have let that happen. She was a capablesoldier, the best out of their unit. All themen on his team were the best of the best, but Riza Hawkeye was in a leagueabove everyone.

She would come around that corner behind them, he was sureof it.

Something else glanced off the wall he was behind, veryloudly gouging out the stone on top. Roy’s head snapped up, seeing Lust’sfingers stretch over him. Glancing to his left, Roy watched as Havoc’s facepaled.

Then the gunfire began again, and the homunculus was gone.

Roy waited, popping off shots from his own weapon when hecould. The purposefully planted gunpowder by the homunculi limited what hecould do with his flame alchemy. Roy’s aim was pinpoint and expertly honed overtime, however he had no idea where it was located, if there was any loose onthe ground, or if there were any particles in the air.

A bullet bit into hisbicep, just grazing the skin enough so it broke. He cursed, throwing himselfback down into cover, his ass hitting the ground painfully as he landed,finally feeling the struggle of their fight begin to overwhelm them.

Hawkeye should have been providing covering fire at thispoint from behind them, along with Fuery, but they were nowhere to be seen.

They never arrived.

Roy grit his teeth in agitation, a growl escaping betweenhis lips.

Lust couldn’t be right. That bitch couldn’t have taken Riza out. Roy wouldn’t allow it.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t how the world worked.

* * *

Get up.

The command in her head was barked. Riza stirred with agrown, the rough concrete pressing into her cheek painfully.

Get up.

A hand found its way onto the ground painfully slowly,causing agony to shoot into her right side. Riza hissed in pain, the handfaltering as it tried to hold her weight. She crashed back down, elicitinganother groan.

Her second attempt was more successful. Wincing, she managedto pull herself into a half sitting position. An eye cracked open and the worldtipped. Riza felt her stomach lurch.

“F… Fue…” Squeezing her eyes closed against the pain in herside and her head, Riza tried to utter the name of her fallen comrade. Shejudged he was still breathing, his chest rising and falling faintly.

“Fuery,” she croaked. No response.

Riza shuffled over to the youngest member of their team. Herheart tore in her chest. No, no, no.He couldn’t die. Riza wouldn’t allow it. Not Fuery, anyone but Fuery. He wastoo good, the best out of all of them.

Get. Up.

Her body scraped roughly along the ground as she fought tothe boy’s side. He wasn’t a boy, but that was what it felt like to Riza. He wasso young… Too young to be fighting in this war of theirs.

Yet he did. They all did. For the future.

The dark patch of blood in his left side dripped onto theground, creating a pool. Riza shoved her hand atop of it, stemming the flow asbest she could.

They had been side by side when Lust arrived, skewering themboth with the same hand. Riza should have seen it coming, but when a homunculuswith speed like hers crept up on them, they hadn’t stood a chance.

Riza was alive, for now. So, she would do her best to tryand save her comrade.

Her friend.

“Hang in there Fuery,” Riza whispered, wincing again at thepain in her side. Her other hand was pressed against her own wound, but theblood trickled between her fingers with no end.

Whimpering against the pain, Riza bowed her head and prayedfor the first time in her life. Not for herself, but for Fuery.

* * *

“Boss! Through here!”

Roy rolled across the open area, coming to a stop besideHavoc. Breda was earnestly beckoning him as Havoc provided covering fire aroundthe corner.

Breda guided him to the alleyway where Fuery and Hawkeye hadbeen located at the start of the shootout. When Roy saw what awaited them inthat godforsaken alleyway, he stopped dead.

He now realised why there was blood on Breda’s uniform.

He hadn’t been hurt.

But they had.

Fuery was unconscious – dead? – on the ground, blood pouringfrom his left side. Hawkeye lay on her side next to him, a hand desperatelytrying to press against his wound. Her own wound – a matching one on her rightside – poured freely as well, creating a pool on the ground below.

No…

Roy lunged for them both, taking Riza’s wrist gently in his.He removed it from Fuery’s side, moving to grip her blood-soaked hand tightly.He weaved his fingers through hers, willing her to meet his gaze.

“It’s okay, we’ve got you,” he told her. He placed his freehand against Fuery’s side, barking at Breda to get back up here now. Riza gripped his hand tightly andRoy sighed in relief, glad to feel the strength behind her grip.

“Back up is on the way. I’ll go help Havoc with the suppressivefire, sir,” Breda announced, leaving before Roy could argue otherwise. Not thathe would have anyway. Havoc had been backed into the alleyway, firing back atthe men who had initiated the gun fight, thanks to a prompt from Lust. Roy knew he had heard her voice somewherebefore.

Goddamnit, he growledto himself.

“Lieutenant keep as much pressure on your wound as possible,”Roy ordered, his throat tightening. They shouldn’t be in the situation. How hadthis even happened?

“How… is Fuery?” she rasped. Roy’s head snapped towards her.Even though her grip was strong on his hand, her voice wasn’t. He readjustedthe grip on her hand, brushing his fingers over the pulse point on her wrist.It was difficult to feel, but he found it eventually. It was thready.

“He’s going to be okay. So are you, I just need you to holdon a little longer,” he begged. Hunched over both their bleeding forms, Roy hadnever felt so useless before. What good was he as a commanding officer if he couldn’tprotect his own?

“Lieutenant?” he asked, real fear creeping into his tone. “Lieutenant!”Her eyes fluttered closed, hand going limp in his.

* * *

Riza heard voices talking as she moved.

But that couldn’t be right. She was lying on her back, butthe ground beneath her was moving. Quickly. How was that possible? Cracking aneye open she saw bright, fluorescent lights.

“… stabbed. So was Sergeant Fuery.”

Roy…

She felt better knowing that he was here, that she wasn’t alone.

How was Fuery? Was he okay? Did he…?

“Sergeant Fuery is in surgery at the moment,” someone fromRiza’s left stated. “He’s lost a lost of blood. So has Lieutenant Hawkeye. Weare…”

Riza drifted off once more, unable to focus on anything.However, there was a sudden pressure on her hand, giving her fingers a quicksqueeze. She returned the gesture as best she could.

“I’m here,” Roy told her, his voice distant as the darknesscrept in again. “I’m not going anywhere.”

* * *

Riza lost a lot of blood.

Lust had almost nicked her lungs, but her freakish bladeshad narrowly avoided the one on the right. The doctor told the rest of the teamthe distance between the stab wound and Riza and Fuery’s lungs and it almostmade Roy vomit on the spot.

His poor subordinates.

They didn’t deserve this.

There was more medical jargon that Roy was just too tiredand too worried out of his mind to comprehend. All Roy could understand thoughwas that she hadn’t woken up yet and the constant beeping to his right from theheart monitor was now attuned to his very being. He had been in this room, byher side, for so long that he could detect any minor change in her heartbeat.He had learned the hard way to read it after she flatlined shortly after beingmoved here.

That had been the scariest moment of Roy’s life.

The reality of living life without Riza Hawkeye was rudely shovedin his face and he had been unprepared. The panic and grief overwhelmed him somuch, he cried silently when he returned to her bedside an hour afterwards, themachine beeping steadily once again.

So yes, he had memorised that rhythm as if his life dependedon it.

Head in his hands, he counted the beeps as his elbows restedon Riza’s bedside. Fuery was on the next bed over, by the window. He remainedvigilant over them both, the silent protector, until the rest of the team arrivedin an hour or so.

“Roy?” Riza croaked quietly.

His head snapped up, breathing halted as he dared to believethis was finally happening.

Two whole days he had been waiting for this moment.

Snapping one of her hands up, clasping both his hands aroundhers tightly, Roy kissed the tips of her cool fingers.

“You’re awake,” he replied in relief.

“What… What happened?”

“Lust stabbed you, do you remember that?”

Riza nodded, wincing as that movement aggravated something andcaused her pain. Her eyes widened momentarily.

“Where is Fuery? Is he okay?” Her voice broke in her hasteand worry.

Roy gave her hand a squeeze. “He’s okay. He’s in the bedright next to you. Fuery lost more blood than you did, apparently, so it may belonger until he wakes.”

“What happened with Lust –?”

“Let’s talk about this later, Riza.” Roy noted how hereyebrow arched at the use of her first name, but Roy didn’t care. “Please? Ijust got you back and the last thing I want to do is talk about work.”

“Okay,” she agreed with a quiet sigh.

“Thank you,” he breathed, bringing her fingers to his lipsonce more to kiss them. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore.”

“I thought… I thought you were gone when I rounded thatcorner,” Roy admitted, finally able to face the worry and anxiety that had madeits home in his chest for the past two days. Now that Riza was awake andtalking, he felt he could finally face it without breaking down. “But youfought it, to save Fuery.”

Riza nodded. “I couldn’t let him go out like that,” shewhispered, eyes finding his, willing him to understand. “He doesn’t deservethat.”

“No, he doesn’t. Thanks to you, he won’t.”

Riza smiled, closing her eyes as they drooped.

“And neither do you,” Roy added, quieter. He smirked when thateyebrow arched again. “Rest, Riza. We can talk more later.” He lifted a hand toher head, brushing her fringe from her face, his fingers ghosting over hercheek as they moved back to her hand. Riza made a soft sound as Roy touched her,and he wasn’t too proud to admit he enjoyed hearing it.

He just wished it hadn’t been when she was in a hospital bedafter fighting for her life.

“Will you stay?” she asked, eyes still closed.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he vowed, unable to resistpressing his lips to her forehead. “I promise. Get some rest.”

“Thank you, Roy.”fic

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #ask #anon #emma writes #camp nano 2019 #fic request #writing prompts

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zukadiary · 7 years ago

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Arch of Triumph / Gato Bonito!! ~ Snow Troupe 2018

I feel a bit weird writing this up after only day 2 of the run, because I’m sure the troupe is still very much warming up... but this is when I happened to be here. Yukigumi fan life has not been ideal for me since Chigi’s retirement and this was BALM FOR THE WOUNDS in unexpected ways. Beware of spoilers.

Arch of Triumph

I happen to really like the original version of this show (from back when Tom was Yukigumi’s actual top star), but despite that the primary emotion I felt re: this show choice, as a Daimon fan who has to travel 7000 miles to see her, was saltiness at the stolen lead. I anticipated suffering through this and prayed that Fujii-sensei would carry the experience for me entirely, so I was truly taken aback by how much I loved Gaisenmon.

There is a pretty long summary on the Takawiki page, and the original is also available from TIP with subtitles.

Just objectively as a show, it’s so beautiful, and it’s beautiful in ways that I didn’t know about at all because you can’t see them on the recording. It’s a dark story and the set is kept fairly dark as well, so all the meticulously colored lights and gobos and gorgeous rain effects dissolve into unintelligible black fuzz on an 18-year-old Sky Stage video. From the second floor you can also appreciate the incredible fluidity of the set rotations and scene changes along with the amazing choreography, of which there is A LOT. It’s a really impressive feat of direction; I am (despite my Takarazuka-related fervor) not a well-versed technical theater person at all and the artistry of it still struck me as something really special. The music is also gorgeous; it’s a very moving show, but I don’t like the main characters as people enough to cry from the culmination of the story... however, the reprise of main song, delivered in beautiful powerful troupe harmony as the curtain fell, murdered me, and I burst into tears on shonichi.

My main worry, especially considering that we have a guest lead and I adore Yukigumi as a whole with all my heart, was that it’s a very top-heavy show. Yesterday I was SO pleasantly surprised at how well-balanced it felt compared to my expectations; today, unfortunately, I felt the same from my vantage point but also realized it will probably feel just as top-heavy as the original on DVD. A sizable portion of the other main players’ stage time comes from beautiful but wordless dance scenes. But despite the light usage of most of the troupe I actually felt better than I did watching Robespierre. Everyone may be on stage less, but I felt like their characters were more lovingly crafted and very distinct from each other even with the simplest backstories.

My two biggest gripes about Tom swooping in are 1) they often like to pretend she is still 25 which she is distinctly not and 2) in what I’ve seen recently I felt like she and the troupe she’s borrowed were acting separately from each other. I think a big reason why Gaisenmon worked for me is neither of those things applied. While there were a few insertions to balance the stage time a little better, the show is largely the same as the original, yet there is nothing in it that suggests Ravic—a surgeon who escaped Germany as the Nazis came into power—is any specific age, and he works at any age... specifically, even a large age difference between Ravic and Joan is totally reasonable and believable. Against the chaotic backdrop of refugee-laden pre-war Paris, an older doctor and a younger aspiring actress could absolutely meet and fall in love. Tom also meshed with the troupe a lot better than I expected. There’s no way to sugarcoat how shot her singing voice is, but damn the woman can act, and her otokoyaku mannerisms (stage kisses in particular) definitely show her long years of practice.

Kiichan slayed, I thought she was even better than Tsukikage Hitomi. Joan is a REALLY HARD role; she’s practical out of necessity but a bit frivolous at heart, and she’s in love but also struggles to differentiate between actual love and the fear of being alone in an increasingly dangerous world. It doesn’t sound like it in writing but in execution it’s really easy for her to come off as weak, clingy, and annoying, when she’s actually a very nuanced character. Kiichan hit all the right notes, she didn’t appear intimidated at all by Tom, and even their romance seemed totally natural for the aforementioned reasons. Her sudden lovesickness could have been so one-note but I felt the tinge of anxiety behind it throughout the whole show, and I was so impressed by that. There is a scene of misunderstanding between Joan and Ravic at a cafe that in a way triggers the unfortunate events that occur thereafter, and it’s gut-wrenching, especially on a second viewing when you can watch it unfold with the knowledge of what’s coming. Her death scene is also extremely intense.

Salty as I am, I LOVE the role of Boris for Daimon. I’ve been feeling like I’ll explode if I have to see her do another sad French play, but after watching this somehow it wound up exempt. The story is heavy and all of the characters are struggling, but amidst the turmoil Boris is a calming presence, refreshingly level-headed and quite positive in a lot of ways (EDIT: in chatting in the comments the words I wanted but couldn’t find at 3am came out: he’s definitely got a cynical edge to him as well, but it was kind of like his cynical view of the world freed him up emotionally to be quietly supportive of the other characters’ problems... I think that’s what I mean by positive). And I can’t even express HOW LOVELY it was to see Daimon play THAT CHARACTER for a change, how fulfilling not to just watch her suffer for an hour and a half. Boris is in the story himself but also the narrator. In the story bits, he’s cool and reliable and there’s a really heartwarming sense of purity in the way he freely shows his emotions. Daimon seems to enjoy over the top acting just fine, but it’s her roles that rely on subtle facial expressions and body language that absolutely kill me—this was the latter. In the narration bits, she weaves an intricate tapestry with her voice. As I said every detail of the direction is intentional and beautiful, but so much of the mood also comes from the emotion in Daimon’s singing, not only in the actual songs (one of which she sang in probably incorrectly but nonetheless tantalizingly pronounced French, ugh ♥), but also particularly when she hums background tunes as other bits of action are taking place. She barely moves and her voice is so soft and yet STILL it reverberates throughout the entire theater somehow, like it flutters into every corner. And she was so beautiful, she worked the hell out of some costumes that definitely wouldn’t be flattering on everyone. I’m TEARING UP right now, my heart is so full.

Here’s where things get bit eh for some people and downright unfortunate for others. Saki and Shou barely had anything to do, although I understand why they were relegated to those roles versus the Aasa, Hitoko, Kari group which although comprised of very distinct characters still felt like a single unit in a way. After a bit of prologue choreography Saki doesn’t show up until past the halfway point. She’s Henri, the handsome but creepy and possessive movie producer who lands Joan some acting jobs and then also shoots her in a fit of jealousy. She really only has two notable short scenes toward the end, when Henri first tries to coerce Joan into staying with him and then comes to Ravic pleading for her life after shooting her. Shou is a sexy doctor who talks on the phone sometimes.

The Aasa/Hitoko/Kari group, however—and, tangentially, Asu, Manaharu, Michiru, Kiwa, and Agata Sen—shone more than I expected remembering the original group (our legendary Yukigumi 3兄弟 Touko/Komu/Naruse Kouki). While they also only had a few scenes to themselves, those scenes were some of my favorites, and they’re the ones who got to decorate the outskirts of the other scenes’ action with beautiful dancing. Aasa is the only one whose role I’d call a step back from Robespierre, but only because she was my Robespierre MVP, and she was still wonderful as the more subdued Jaime. I felt distinct forward momentum from everyone else. Hitoko was absolutely adorable and injected way more into Rosenfeld than Komu did (which I can say even with the ultimate bias on my side), and Kari was truly outstanding, I could melt just looking at her and I’m so glad she landed a role with that kind of prominence. The whole Hotel International group just had so much humanity.

Final shout outs go to Niwa who I love unconditionally in every role she plays but particularly here for a) A+ slimy awful Gestapo officer and b) the novelty of Kouju Tatsuki squeeing OMG YOU WERE KEN-2 IN THE ORIGINAL AND NOW YOU’RE SCHNEIDER?! in the talk show; and Miho Keiko who I was SURE they stuffed into Gaisenmon because Fujii-sensei demanded her presence in his show as usual, leaving me quite dumbfounded when she wasn’t in Gato Bonito at all. It wasn’t a role that one of our many boss beautiful perfect upperclassmen musumeyaku couldn’t have done, but nonetheless her presence leant some more gravitas to the show in addition to balancing out Tom a bit.

Gato Bonito!! had the opposite effect on me initially. I expected to dislike Gaisenmon and it wowed me, and then it wowed me twice over because that feeling of your expectations being so far exceeded is wonderful. Meanwhile I’ve been laying in bed at night screaming DAISUKEEEEEEEE into the darkness for months, praying he’d deliver me a perfect trilogy of HOT EYES!!, Santé!!, and now THIS!! (boy he loves double exclamation points doesn’t he).

Well, it sure wasn’t HOT EYES. But in retrospect, that’s a damn high bar. After watching Gato Bonito today with my expectations in a reasonable place, I liked it more... especially when I think about how SUPER VOYAGER was everything I never want to see in a revue ever again tied up in one neat package, and this, in contrast, was a lot of things I want to see very much.

From the start I liked or loved all of the scenes individually, but something about the show as a whole didn’t come together for me, and after two viewings I think I have some idea of why. The sets and backdrops were off for me, in a way that I did not think could have such a large effect on the show’s overall vibe. Most revues will have a big eye-popping scene, then they’ll close the curtain and have people dance in front of it for a short transition, then open it again to another eye-popping scene. There’s a nice rise-climax-break-repeat flow. But there were so many scenes in Gato Bonito where they’d drop a curtain down, have a dance in front of it, then drop A DIFFERENT THING down and have a dance in front of that, and I just felt like I was being constantly led toward a climax that never came. When they did open up the whole stage I found the sets really spread out and airy, such that it felt as if no matter how hard they tried they couldn’t fill the stage with enough people. They were also FLAT, like literally flat on the floor, not enough gradated pieces with people standing atop them to fill the back as well as the ground. I might feel differently when I watch it from the first floor, but for now I think some pretty small adjustments could have given it overall more impact.

Also, WAAAAAYYYY too many LITERAL CATS for my taste.

THAT SAID, boy this was SO MUCH of what I love to see out of Daimon. It was hot and extra and the music was amazing and she got to stand there making these burning faces and do TRULY UNFATHOMABLY STUPID THINGS WITH HER VOICE and flamenco and tango and all that jazz. Everyone was melting pile of orange goo no thanks to the weather and the insufficient air conditioning, but other than that there were even enough good costumes to balance out those ruffle abominations (you know the ones) that of course showed up a bit. Saki was ON FIRE, I know I said I was tired of riding the Saki coaster but oops here we go up another hill. They made up for shafting her in Gaisenmon with a loooooot of juicy revue time. She’s gotten so good at emoting through her dance, she was just dynamic and sexy and 150% energy from start to finish. Kiichan has a little ways to go to catch up with everyone in her Latin dancing but there was already a really noticeable improvement between shonichi and today.

Highlights:

Argentine tango to Yo Soy Maria ft. Daimon singing in Spanish, guessing by the lack of bedazzling on the suits that that was the ANJU-sensei scene. When the curtain opened on all the otokoyaku just mingling in the dark smoky background it PHYSICALLY HURT (it also began with all our boss beautiful perfect upperclassmen musumeyaku in slinky dresses)

There’s a scene with Saki, Shou, Aasa, and Hitoko taking turns grinding on Daimon in the world’s tackiest bodysuits, but there was something so inexplicably hot about the drag + otokoyaku hair despite the melting orange goo and poor Saki and Aasa absolutely drowning in their own sweat

The chuuzume starts with a conga line across the ginkyou, and EVERY PERSON IN THE TROUPE comes out in single file in rank order, it was A LOT for my Yukigumi-loving heart

Kiichan gets to do stuff, Daisuke is aware we have a top musumeyaku which is apparently a challenge for some people

Daimon enters from the back of the first floor singing Kuroneko no Tango at one point and when she reaches the stage there’s a daily “ad lib” (in quotes because I’m sure she’s already written them all down and rehearsed them ad nauseam), but her ad libs are so dumb I love her

ASU GOT A WHOLE SONG

I forgot to pay close enough attention through the applause today to grab the exact words, but I’m like 90% sure the final lyrics as Daimon is descending the stairs in the parade are something she also referenced in her +act interview right when she became top (I don’t have the magazine on me but I translated it as “we can live through today for the sake of tomorrow and for the sake of living tomorrow we can stand firmly right here today”). She was talking about the “soul of flamenco” and that being something that turned her whole outlook around during Don Juan, so I thought it was REALLY SWEET they threw that in as a nod to her continuing to grow. Haha nope, after 4 viewings I'm sure I was wrong, but I like my idea better Hankyu pls hire me

Did I mention her dumb stupid voice? I know Robespierre was literally written for her by a Broadway composer but for me there was no comparison; in both acts it danced and changed and filled the theater in ways that don’t seem like they should be physically possible. Like this is the ????th time I’ve seen Daimon live and I was still just absolutely slain by all the heretofore unheard things her voice can apparently do.

I’m whole and healed and so surprised and delighted I didn’t have to wait till 2019 for that to happen.

#takarazuka #reviews #arch of triumph #might as well just tell people I live here

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whiskynottea · 7 years ago

Text

An interruption in the 1st law of thermodynamics.

Previously Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

If you prefer the A03, you can find the story here!

Chapter 6. Escape with me

I’d read somewhere that it takes between 90 seconds and 4 minutes to decide if you fancy someone. And then elsewhere that it takes 8 seconds for men to fall in love at first sight.

I didn’t know the exact time point when my feelings were established but I had a whole night to fall in love with Jamie, if I wasn’t already totally enchanted by him.

My heart pounded in my ears and a grin spread through my face while I stayed immobile, holding my phone as the world’s biggest treasure.

And then I heard that foolish squee escaping my mouth again.

What are you doing to me James Fraser?

Sitting on my bed, I read his text again and again squeezing my brain to think of my reply.

Well, not just a reply. A good reply. A perfect one.

Blank.

I couldn’t think, my heartbeat messing with all my other functions.

What should I say? What? The question was running panicked through my mind.

Calm down, first things first, Beauchamp. Let’s save his number.

That I would type his name on my phone! Jamie Fraser. Yes, like I wouldn’t remember who he was without his last name written.

OK, now read his text for a last time and just reply Beauchamp!

JF: Hello Sassenach. How was your night with your uncle?

OK, it was a simple text asking about my night.

Of course, he could text houuuuurs earlier saying something else; instead of waiting all this time to be sure I would be back home – but no.

Jamie Fraser waits for me to be totally depressed and then he goes and texts!

Anyway.

CB: Hi Jamie! It was fun! Nothing can go wrong while eating your favourite dish and catching up!

His reply came in seconds.

JF: And that dish would be …?

CB: Mushroom risotto! 😋 How was your night?

JF: Oh, in contrast with yers, Sassenach, my night sucked. Ye see, I missed the film and went straight back home. Murtagh was so glad to see me back early – to help him with some chores, that is.

Oh come on! What an arse, I thought, teasing me for walking me home – and this his decision too. But I was still smiling.

CB: Oh, my poor lad…

JF: Willing to make it up to me?

With eyebrows raised, I texted back.

CB: And how would that be…?

JF: Ye already owe me a night in the cinema. Ye didn’t forget that, did ye?

Of course I hadn’t forgotten that! How this would ever be possible! But he didn’t need to know.

CB: Although this was a unilateral decision…

JF: What? Oh, no lass. This was just the right thing, what has to be done.

CB: hahaha OK, I guess I can pay you back with a night at the cinema.

JF: Of course ye will! I wouldn’t give in, no matter how much ye would try to avoid it. After all I lost the film.

Well, I never wanted you to give in, to begin with.

CB: Great

JF: But you know tis not just this

What did he have in his mind? I thought going out together would be enough.

CB: No? 🤔 🤔

JF: D’ye not read that I was doing chores as well, Sassenach?

CB: And I am to blame for this?

JF: Definitely

I was laughing, shaking my head but opted for a more sober reply.

CB: I have to disagree on that, you know.

JF: Ye have to make amends, I say.

Well, if you say so…

CB: That would include?

JF: Spending your Saturday night with us, Sassenach

With us, not with me, but it was an invitation nonetheless.

CS: And who would you be?

JF: Jenny, Ian, Rupert, Angus… and I.

CS: Well, I like Jenny a lot.

At this point I was giggling.

JF: Do ye then?

CS: Yeap. 😁

JF: Good. Then ye’re coming?

CB: Where?

JF: To escape with me

My heart stopped and a shiver ran through my body.

I read the text again, but the letters remained the same, dancing in front of my eyes.

Be smart. Say something funny.

CB: Are you trying to run away to avoid your chores?

JF: I would ran away with you – chores or no

Oh my God.

That cheeky forward bastard!

I read his last text about ten times and then ten more, including his previous one as well.

He was joking but I felt like we both could say all the things we wanted, veiled and secured as jokes. Keeping a cool façade.

When I saw he was typing again I realized that I hadn’t replied.

JF: Dinna worry Sassenach, we’re staying here at the moment

CB: Good, cause my uncle would hear me packing right now, in the dead of the night

JF: We’ll plan it for another time then

CB: Where to?

JF: Everywhere

CB: Everywhere? How are we going to do this?

JF: Dinna ken yet. Maybe rent a camper van and start touring across Europe?

CB: Good, I haven’t visited Europe that much

JF: How about starting from France? 🚐

CB: Love it!

JF: Cool. Paris it is, then.

Paris. With Jamie Fraser.

I knew I was daydreaming, that these were words were floating in the air just for a minute before a light puff! and they would vanish for ever. I knew that this trip would never come to happen but still, I couldn’t help myself from closing my eyes and seeing us walking by the Seine.

For the moment it was enough that we both fantasized the same thing.

That our dreams collided and merged, becoming one.

The audition song from LA LA Land came in my mind and I murmured the lyrics thinking of him.

“Here's to the ones who dream Foolish as they may seem Here's to the hearts that ache Here's to the mess we make”

Was I ready for another mess?

Ready or not, Beauchamp, it seems that you can’t avoid it now.

The text notification brought me back from my reverie.

JF: So, Sassenach, now that we’ll still here, let’s meet tomorrow at eight?

CB: You still didn’t tell me where we’re going Jamie!

JF: Didn’t I? Well, ye’ll find out tomorrow then

CB: Arghhh OK. Where are we meeting?

JF: I’ll come by your place. Is that alright?

CB: Yeap

JF: See ye tomorrow Sassenach

Before I could reply, another text was delivered.

JF: Good night Claire 😴

CB: Good night Jamie 😊

Cocooned in my duvet, I closed my eyes and thought of him doing exactly the same in another house in the city – annihilating all the distance between us.

How brilliant it would be to have him next to me.

Maybe. One day.

Chapter 7

#thermodynamics #high school au #outlander fanfic #jamie x claire #The First Law of Thermodynamics #texting Jamie and Claire #outlander fanfiction #i couldn't resist having these two text for the first time #half the times I wrote CB I was thinking Caitriona Balfe #fffsss what are the odds these two to have the same initials

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enchanted-flowers · 7 years ago

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Skitty is a Matchmaker

Pairing: Reader/Underfell Sans (Red)

Rating: All ages Word count: 1800 Warnings: None. This is a very fluffy fic.

Undertale x Pokemon Crossover AU

First place raffle prize for @coleart! I’m not sure how I feel about writing pokemon, but this was super fun to do! Here is what he requested.

I hope you enjoy this fic Cole!

Red ravenously devours his Old Gateau, licking his fingers in between where even his trusted Pignite twists his face up in disgust. You and your Lucario stare at him, instantly losing your appetite for your sandwich as crumbs fall from his mouth.

“Can’t you eat like a normal person?” you scold, reaching over the table and wiping the crumbs off his face with your napkin, “I feel like your parent sometimes.”

“if ya don’t like it, then go somewhere else,” Red grumbles, then tosses a scrap to his pokemon.

You roll your eyes and return to your lunch, enjoying the bright outdoors on a route outside of Hearthome City. The winds breeze by gently, swaying the tall grass and the trees, where various wild pokemon chitter and go about their lives. You notice two Pachirisus fighting over a cherri berry until an Aipom swoops in and stole it from their clutches. Most of the pokemon ignore the two trainers, uninterested in a battle right now. It’s a beautiful day outside...if you could ignore the goblin in front of you.

Suddenly, a figure bursts from the trees and Lucario and Pignite leap into action to protect their trainers. Noticing that the figure was only a panicked elderly woman, you order your pokemon to stand down. The woman’s grey hair stuck out in all different directions, her saggy eyes red and puffy from with the streams of tears rolling down her aged face. She’s panting hard and grasping on a nearby tree for support. Your Lucario immediately brought her a cup of water and you helped her to your table with worry, while Red eyes the woman suspiciously, his Pignite sniffing around her legs.

“Oh thank Arceus, trainers!” the old woman weeps, “Please help me. My Skitty ran off and I am much too old to fend pokemon off myself. I need to get her back!”

Your heart went out to her, and you nod your head without hesitation, “Yes, of course-”

“how much,” the skeleton interrupts, picking his teeth with his fingers.

“Red!” you glare at him.

“what? if we are going to be doing her a favor, we should be compensated,” he shrugs and crosses his arms.

“That’s-”

“No, my dear, it’s fine,” the elderly woman reaches into her bag and holds out a few coins, “I have much gold.”

Red swipes the money from her hand, and inspects it, deeming the request worthy of his time. You shake your head in disappointment with him, but he’s stubborn and the woman is willing to pay so you don’t bother putting up a fight.

“aight. where was was the last place you saw your skitty?” Red asks while you pack the remainder of your items.

The woman points to Mt. Coronet. You and Red look at each other and gulp. Not only was the mountain full of annoying wild pokemon that seems to want to attack you every few minutes, but there are a ridiculous amount of twists and turns with hidden tunnels and traps. But being the greedy money trainer that he is (“WE NEED FOOD. THIS IS HOW WE GET MONEY FOR FOOD!”) Red trudges on. Glancing at the old woman, you throw your pokeball, letting your Sylveon out who greets you happily with a cheerful squee.

“My Sylveon will escort you back to town. We’ll meet you at the Hearthome pokemon center when we find your pokemon,”

The woman bows and thanks you, and you watch as the two of them disappear into the trees. Red looks at you expectantly, his Pigmite resting on his shoulders and your Lucario trotting besides you. You nod and the two of you embark to Mt. Coronet.

Before entering, you grab two repels from your bag and hand one to Red, the both of you showering yourselves with the spray. The two pokemon gags, and you apologetically pat Lucario’s back. The pokemon stays five feet away from you and Red for the remainder of the time. Despite the lit torches left by past trainers and construction workers, the cave is still dark, and you just replaced your Lucario’s flash with False Swipe. Stupid you. Red searches like a zombie, completely uninterested and bored, hoping to find the Skitty and go back home already, but in this endless maze, it could be for hours.

“ugh, i’m hungry,” Red grumbles, kicking a rock and scaring away a zubat.

“You just ate,”

“still. how long have we been in here anyway? hours?” the skeleton trainer complains.

“Try 20 minutes”

Red groans loudly and slumps on the dirt, “i dun wanna do this anymore.”

“Well you already accepted the payment,” you cross your arms and drag him back up, “It’s not like we had anything better to do anyway.”

Red looks at you quietly, his bone brows furrows and his mouth dips into a slight frown. He looks like he was about to say something, but changed his mind.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

A faint blush spreads throughout his face, but before he could say anything, Pignite screeches, alerting you two of the little Skitty, who squeals happily and runs away, further into the cave.

“Hey! Come back here!” you yell, but as soon as you ran in its direction, a golbat swoops in and attacks, “Red! Go after it! I got this!”

The skeleton nods and follows the Skitty. Lucario springs into battle, waiting for his orders.

“Use focus blast!” you command, pointing at the Golbat.

A ball of energy forms in between Lucario’s palms and he aims the ball of light at the enemy pokemon, flinging it against the wall. Golbat instantly fainted.

“Good job!” you praise and give him a head pat, “We gotta catch up to Red and Pignite. Let’s go!”

Lucario nods and the two of you run after your friends. You found Red cornering the Skitty against the cavern wall, a smug smirk stretching across his face.

“ ‘ere skitty skitty skitty,” he clicks, bending down, and reaching his hand towards the pokemon.

“Red, be careful. You might scare her,” you warn.

“pssh, please. it’s a little skitty, what harm can it-” suddenly, the pink pokemon cries and emits a sudden blast of a heart shaped cloud, wrapping around Red and knocking him backwards with a yelp.

“Red!” you rush to his side, and the Skitty sprints away, but Pignite runs after her.

The skeleton moans and rubs his head, and looks at you, his eye lights suddenly transforming into small hearts, looking at you as if you are suddenly the center of his world. He touches your cheeks tenderly, with a gentleness you never knew he possessed.

“Red?” you whisper quietly, your heart pounding loudly in your chest.

“darling.” the skeleton purrs, his face only inches away from your lips.

You lean into his touch, bringing yourself closer to him, losing sight of your goal and allow this to happen. Your insides rip each other apart as your face flushes with heat. A part of you wants to push him away, another wants to hold him like this forever, as you’re locked in his gaze. His mouth brushes against your lips, but before he could fully kiss you, Lucario balls his fasts and sucker punches the skeleton, his head cracking the wall. You scream and rush over to his side, checking for injuries, but he only seems unconscious for now.

“Lucario! Why would you do that?!” you shout, anger fuming.

Keeping as calm as ever, he just simply points to you. Whatever that means. Pignite comes back a moment later, with the Skitty in his arms, who’s purring softly and sleeping against the heated pokemon. You sigh and shake your head, clearing yourself of whatever just happened, and pick up Red’s body. Luckily, he’s a skeleton so weight isn’t a problem, but Lucario helps you anyway. He seems apologetic for hurting Red, but doesn’t regret his actions. All of you exit the cave without a problem.

When you and your pokemon emerge, the sky is already painted with streaks of orange. Red stirs in your arms, grunting in pain but otherwise seems alright. He looks at you in confusion, then anger, leaping away from you and readying a battle stance.

“what the hell happened??? why was i passed out?!” he growls.

“Lucario punched you. I’m so sorry about that,” you apologize.

“what the hell? why would he punch me?!”

“You don’t remember?”

Red blinks and thinks for a moment, shaking his head, “the last thing i remember was finding that pokemon. did something happen?”

Your hand twitches, your mouth hanging slightly open, your heart clenching. You put on a fake smile and shake your head, telling him that he was just in Lucario’s way when a pokemon attacked and he’ll get checked out at the Pokemon Center. He buys your story, and slowly returns to his normal self once you two enter the city. You find the old woman at the center with your sylveon, who prances towards you and happily nuzzles your leg upon your return. The woman coos as soon as Pignite hands over her Skitty.

“Thank you so much you two. I hope she didn’t cause you any trouble. She’s quite mischievous,”

“Ah, it was no problem at all. Happy to help,” you smile.

“That’s a relief. I was afraid she was going to use her special move to escape again,” the woman scratch’s the Skitty’s head.

“special move?” Red asks, raising his bone brow in curiosity.

“Yes. Her “Attract” move is special. Once an opponent is hit, they are instantly infatuated with the first object that they see. The move is stronger when object just happens to be something or someone that they already have feelings for. They will often times make rash decisions and act impulsively. The move isn’t very useful in battle, but it allows her to get away easier.” the old woman explains.

Red snorts, as if he doesn’t believe her. You on the other hand…

The two of you recieve your rewards, and leave Lucario and Pignite at the center to rest up while the two of you grab some dinner.

“so, where do you want to eat? i’m famished,”

You shrug and look at him, the moonlight hovering right above him, “Anywhere is fine. My treat.”

“woah really?” Red says in astonishment, “what’s the occasion?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head and lace your fingers with his, pressing a kiss on his cheek, “I’m just happy to be with you.”

Red turns into a tomato, fumbling over his words his hand shaking in yours as drops of sweat rolls down his head. He clears his throat and smirks, even with his blush. He hopes you have a fat wallet because he’s celebrating tonight.

#pssst #hey #robin #robindaspoopy #rob rob #i hope you got the reference #it was DS's idea #please oink at me when you see the referenc #underfell #underfell sans #uf sans #reader insert #safe for work #sfw #my writing #sans x reader #undertale headcanons #raffle prize

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sunalsolove · 7 years ago

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Sunalso’s Spuffy Fic Recs

(With Shameless Self Promotion-because, hey, I was asked!)

I’m not one for a lot of dark fic/angst as real life tends to punch me enough. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy conflict in a story, but it does mean that my recs tend to be a little biased towards things I want to escape into after a hard day at work. I read all ratings, but prefer the smuts, and I enjoy all the wide world of possibilities in fics, from baby stories to all human, from canon compliant to complete AUs. I love fanfiction, I love Spuffy, and I REALLY love both together!! (I also love chihuahuas.) All stories completed except those in the WIP section. Most links to Elysian Fields. You have to sign up to read NC-17 fics, but it’s a quick process, and then you can receive emails when authors (like, cough, me) post a new story, or you can follow a favorite WIP and know when new chapters post. Handy!

Under the cut because this is a LONG list!

Long Fics

Only Time Will Tell by damperandspoons (NC-17, 75K) A fun time-travel romance! There’s sex in a carriage! This is one of the very first Spuffy fics I ever read and it’s still one of my favorites. It’s the sort of story you squee over and then cry over...and then go back to squeeing. There’s a delicious HEA as well.

Echoes by Holly (NC-17, 116K) Holly is a brilliant writer and this is THE prime example. She takes the Buffyverse, sets it on its ear, and the result is wholly magical. Buffy and Spike start off existing in a vastly different context, one little demon bargain later, and Buffy finds herself 300 years in the future and dealing with present-day Sunnydale.

Hide and Seek by dreamweaver (NC-17, 37K) Post series. Buffy’s in Rome and wait...who’s that history scholar...and that vampire?? I really enjoy watching everything collide in this fic.

In Heat by Nautibitz (NC-17, 31K) In the summer after S5 (in a world where Buffy didn’t die) the weather is hot and there are demons that release a pheromone that makes poor Buffy even hotter. What’s a girl to do?

Superstar Revamped by kantayra (NC-17, 54K) Set during S4′s Superstar. A very fun romp through the episode, as Spike and Buffy figure out both the spell and each other. I could use so many more Spuffy fics set during that episode!

sex, lies, and sonograms by sabershadowkat (NC-17, 31K) Buffy’s pregnant post S2...I get a huge kick from this story because it’s like a time capsule. It was written LONG before S5 (so no FFL) so is contains all kinds of early Spuffy stuff. I <3 it!

Future Imperfect by cousinjean (R, 38K) Set 335 years post The Gift. A little angstier than many recs on this list. Buffy is humanities last hope and Spike is her only connection to her past. Lovely writing and so many feels. Also...Spuffy on the moon.

Awakening by tempestt (PG-13, 32K) After a planewreck that leaves them alone and hunted in the wilderness, Buffy and Spike both have to survive and Buffy finds out she has more inside her than she ever knew.

Frontierland by Gort (R, 66K) S5. Willow casts a spell, causing Spike to dream so he’ll see that things between him and Buffy can never work out. Buffy comes along for the ride. It does not go as Willow expects. Spike wears a cowboy hat. This is a touching story that dives deep into Spike’s head and is nuanced and carfully done. I can’t recommend it enough.

Sunny Days by Gort (NC-17, 103K) Sequel to Frontierland, but we’re starting off in Riley’s head this time, but Buffy and Spike aren’t going to let that stand. Spike’s a hot english professor that wears a fedora. (If you need to know anything besides that...I don’t know what to tell you ;-)

Dreamer by Gort (NC-17, 86K) S4, starts with HLOD. Buffy and Spike end up captured by the Initiative and form a deep bond by the time their released. A close look at just how messed up the Initiative is. Also hair kink.

Reveries and Ramifications by mak324 (NC-17, 386K) Spike and Buffy are drawn together and into a web of deceit involving the Initiative. No one does first person POV like mak324. it’s stunning and completely enthralling and you get through the 386 K and want more.

Stitched Up by bewildered (NC-17, 50K) A sock gets a soul. It’s freaking hilarious while still being insightful. Buffy and Spike are adorable and it’s so enjoyable to watch the sock do his best to help them out!

Send to All by Carrie-Ann (NC-17, 75K) A sexy text gets sent to everyone on Buffy’s contact list. Oops? A hilarious ride with a showstopper climax!

With A Painted Ribbon by Apfeltorte (NC-17, 151K) Starts with Buffy in the mental hospital and goes like a freight train from there.

Taking Chances by sandy_s (R, 107K) Starts with Something Blue, goes to an alternate dimension, and ends with the Initiative being destroyed. YAY. Is also a thoughful and detailed look at Buffy, Spike, Willow, Joyce, and others as they go through a great deal of emotional maturing that is badly needed by all. I compare the sheer imagination of the other dimension to Edgar Rice Burrows, it’s just that amazing.

Etched in Stone by flowerofthewolf (NC-17, 116K) Dru turns Spike into a statue in Restfield cemetery in 1977. He sits there for twenty years with only himself to talk to until one perky Slayer takes a shine to him. Is both poignant and laugh out loud funny.

Second String by Solstice (PG-13, 48K) Spike’s a watcher in need of a Slayer, Buffy’s a Slayer in need of a Watcher. Wonderfully written and winner of the best OC ever award. And best Xander characterization award.

Short Fics

Fantasie Segrete by Holly (NC-17, 7.7K) Post series. Buffy’s friends treat her to a little valentine’s day surprise. I love how Buffy’s mind works in this story and it’s so much fun and so satisfying!

As in ‘Recent’ by Nautibitz (Nc-17, 1.2K) The S7 smut we all wish would have happened.

Vanishing Act by Nautibitz (PG-13, 1.6K) S6, post Gone...and DUH, Xander.

Memories Without Words by kantayra (PG-13, 3.2K) 500,000 years in the future, The One is reunited with someone special. I love this fic so much and it gives me so many feels!

Watching by kantayra (PG-13, 3K) One of my favorite fics of all time, and it’s Riley’s POV during the first half of S5. This fic is brilliant.

If the Plane’s A-Rockin by Baphrosia (NC-17, 1K) What SHOULD have been the outcome of TGIQ.

Independence Day by pfeifferpack (G, 4K) Post NFA. A loving and nuanced look at what Buffy’s life might be like. Amazing Buffy and Dawn interaction and a hopeful ending.

#hashtagapocolypse by Wonder and Ashes (PG-13, 1.5Kish) A Buffy story told on twitter! It’s freaking hilarious.

Circulation by theblueeyedvampire (NC-17, 4.8 K) Pangs smut. Enough said.

The Switch by Gort (NC-17, 13K) Buffy and Spike swap bodies in S4. It goes EXACTLY how you want it to. Bless you, Gort.

Sinfully Delicious (NC-17, 843) Buffy catches Spike wanking. The title says it all. I seriously could read a million iterations of this (PLEASE).

Bliss by kantayra (R, 1.8K) Spike comes to find Buffy in heaven. It’s happy and I still cry like a baby over it EVERY TIME.

Young Robots in Love by Elsa Frohman (PG, 11K) William!bot meets Buffy!bot, sparks fly. Hilarious and touching

An Arousing Sexual Encounter Between Buffy Summers and William "Spike" Pratt by gabrielleabelle (NC-17, 523) How every Spuffy sex encounter goes! Hee!

All Human

People get weird about AH. I’ve heard every excuse but they all boil down to: I don’t want to look/sound uncool. Thanks, 50 shades. AH allows authors to have fun way outside the usual playing field while still making the characters recognizably themselves. That’s the challenge and the draw. Embrace it, have fun with it. Don’t let being worried you’re not a cool enough fanfic person if you like these stories stand in your way of a great read.

The Poet and His Muse by Addie Logan (NC-17, 45K) Spike’s a poet who can’t meet his deadline and Buffy--a muse with a less than stellar track record--is sent to help. They are simply adorable together!

Unexpected Company by Paganbaby (NC-17, 25K) How can I say this? Paganbaby’s stories are an...aquaried taste? They are unashamedly my guilty pleasure. She’s got a size kink and I swear Buffy must have a tape measure handy at all times because there are regularly detailed measurements. This fic is experienced Buffy and virginal William that ends with Willow walking in on them with a ballgag involved.

But for peak Paganbaby you need to read:

The Sitter by Paganbaby (NC-17, 95K) Underage twincest + 26 year old Buffy. You’re welcome. (I unashamedly LIKE this story)

The Ghost of Christmas Present by Gort (NC-17, 22K) Buffy’s a lawyer sent to oversee the sale of a charming inn haunted by one William Pratt. BEST CHRISTMAS STORY EVER. I’m going to marry this story. I want to roll around in it. I LOVE IT.

Not My Reality by dawnofme (NC-17, 44K) Buffy’s on the bachelor and Angel’s the fellow in question. He’s so dreamy...except who’s this bleached blond camera guy? This story is the definition of FUN. I reread it whenever I need a pick-me-up. Great Fred and Cordelia too.

Closer to Midnight by xaphania (PG-13, 38K) Buffy and Spike meet up on a tour of a haunted island. They find themselves falling in love but there’s a ghost story waiting in the wings and everything isn’t what it seems. There’s a lovely NC-17 outtake of the sex scene for those who want it!

WIPs

It’s hard to recommend stories that aren’t finished an might never be, but sometimes the journey is worth it even if you don’t ever reach the destination.

This Means War by mak324 (R) A newly chipped Spike meets up with a sick Buffy instead of Willow. Shenanigans follow as Buffy and Spike dance around each other.

Prisoners of Love, Blue Skies Above by bewildered (NC-17) Post Something Blue Spike goes on a drunken ramage, Buffy ends up having to pretend to be his wife. It’s all sexy and adorable. It’s the very first Spuffy fanfic I ever read. I still have hope it’ll be finished one day.

Buffy the Victorian Slayer by Flights of Fancy (R) Buffy’s the slayer in Victorian England. One night she saves one William Pratt from a vampire...things roll from there. I talk more about the WIP than any other!

My Own Stories

I love all my fics, but there’s always a few I’m extra eager for people to read!

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by sunalso (Explicit, 135K) A very depressed Buffy is sent back from a post Chosen world to S2. She still means to die...but other things happen instead. I adore my mad hatter’s party scene with Dru in this fic, and the fact that Buffy and Spike can’t hide anything from anyone (the poor azaleas!)

World on Fire by sunalso (NC-17, 4.6K) I was not allowed to make the summary: Buffy boinks 1900 Spike because the author wanted her to. However, that’s the gist of it!

Cursed by sunalso (R, 177K) Buffy and Drusilla switch bodies every time the sun goes down. This ended up being everything I wanted it to and Dru is a very strong character in it even though she’s not the main POV.

Room Service by sunalso (NC-17) Boink or die! Only it’s so warm and fuzzy!

Thing of Doom by sunalso (Explicit, 60K) During AtS S5 Spike is split into two parts (William and Demon). Much smut ensues. I’m overly critical of the first chapter, but the rest is a really fun ride!

Someday by sunalso (NC-17, 54K) My accidental novel. Buffy has one day each season to save the world. However will she do it? This is stuffed full of tropes I like and I seriously named one of the sex scenes. Sort of peak me in this one.

Pumpkin Spike by sunalso(R, 2.8K) Spike’s a pumpkin.

Every Rose by sunalso (NC-17, WIP) A current project. Wishverse Buffy is sent back to 1880 to kill a newly risen Spike. She gets there a little early. Anne just wants grandbabies.

Strange Partners by sunalso and Gort (NC-17, 42K) This is still SO FUNNY and I co-wrote it. I can’t believe I wrote it. It’s seriously funny, but with a cohesive plot as well. Don’t drink and read, it’s a choking hazard.

There we have it! I probably forgot half the stuff I’d like to rec and am probably way too over critical of my own stuff, especially the newer stuff, which makes it hard to rec. I hope you find some fun things to read and please, if you enjoy something, let the author know!

Cheers!

#spuffy #fic rec #btvs #fanfic #buffy x spike

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singingwordwright · 7 years ago

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#Shadowhunters recap - s2ep20 “Beside Still Water”

SHADOWHUNTERS Recaps Intro and Masterlist

These recaps may contain spoilers from the books (that may or may not happen in the show.) Proceed at your own risk.

Well, here it is. My last recap of the season. Let’s do this so I can get around to watching all the reaction videos I don’t let myself watch until I’m done reacting myself!

Recap and meta under the cut.

Raise your hand if you didn’t know that not retrieving Sebastian’s body was going to come back and bite our boys and girls in the ass? Anyone? Anyone?

Even without reading the books, you just had to know that wasn’t the end of Sebastian. Still I’m thrilled in a way because Will Tudor is amazeballs and I can’t wait to see what he’s going to do with the character from here on out.

Also, I gotta say, this whole thing with Sebastian’s blood being able to open up passage between our realm and Edom is really quite cool, and I wonder how it came about? Like, did Valentine already know that about Jonathan and is that how he created the pentagram/conducted the ritual that enabled him to banish Jonathan to Edom in the first place? Is it some sort of gift or ability that was granted to Sebastian by Lilith? How did that happen? I want the story behind it.

This was it. This was the moment when Magnus exhausted my forbearance.

Like, I’ve pretty much been completely behind him this whole time, even knowing he’s acting rashly and being misguided, because I totally get his motivations. And I still do.

But in this moment we saw him cross the line from “I’m possibly putting my trust in a bad place because I’m hurt and scared and have a very limited array of bad options for protecting my people” to “I’m staying a bad course because I don’t want to acknowledge that I might have been wrong.”

Desperation is one thing. Being willfully obtuse in order to save face is another thing entirely.

Thank God Maia apparently knows better than to eat in Faerie. I was worried there for a moment. Also I love her trying to make a run for it, however futile, rather than just waiting to be rescued. And can we talk about those boots Maia was wearing? We only get a glimpse of them but it was enough to inspire a serious case of shoe-envy.

The Seelie Queen has made the list of people who need to come down with a case of dead. Alas, I doubt we’ll see it happen. IIRC she survives the books.

These past couple episodes have fed me so well with regard to our squad fighting together. Clary and Izzy/Jace and Alec/Izzy and Jace in s2ep19 and now all four of them plus Magnus in various combinations in this episode? *squee*

I’m a happy, happy girl and truly, if you’d listened in on the conversations @roseglass and I had over Facetime during the hiatus leading up to season 2B, this was #1 with a bullet on our list of things we needed, since we really didn’t get much of it in 2A.

Also, there’s my not-so-lowkey archery kink. That’s been fed pretty well in 2B also.

Sarah Hyland really is teeny-tiny, isn’t she? It’s interesting also that the seem to have found a lot of extras who are of similarly short stature to fill out the Seelie court. So apparently it’s canon here that the Seelies are on the small side? Is Meliorn an exception because he’s half-human? What about Kaelie? Was she not entirely Seelie either?

So, Luke calls Clary…from the Seelie realm? They have cell towers in Faerie? Really?

Clary’s portal rune being powerful enough to pierce the warlock wards��just like her other rune managed to burn through the wards on Magnus’s apartment in s2ep12—annoys me because we have no explanation for why that would be the case. It’s total deus ex machina, and did no one really even try to bring up the notion that she and Jace might be fucking vaporized if she ends up being wrong about this?

I really hope next season the writing won’t lean so heavily on Clary’s unreasonably amped-up powers (who am I kidding? Of course it will.)

Jace and Alec’s “be careful”/“when am I ever not careful” exchange was of course funny until…well, until.

I really love this shot of mundanes just arguing over mundane thing, completely unaware of the fact that there are fucking DRAGONS swarming over their heads.

Oh, Izzy. You always do this. You are ruthless when it comes to nudging Alec in the direction of happiness. You play him like a fiddle every time. It further convinces me that the only reason she chose Magnus as her advocate in s1ep11 was to force Alec to go see him.

I think Magnus’s salt with Alec at this point is mostly self-protection. The only good defense is a strong offense. Or something. Some of it may also be injured pride, too, I imagine. He’s got to be stinging right about now, having found out that the Queen has betrayed them all. He probably feels very foolish, and yet he doesn’t feel like he can trust Alec with an admission of his own foolishness.

Jace introduces himself like he didn’t just see Malachi a few days previously when Valentine escaped. Weird.

Also, did neither of them notice a circle rune until the guy turned his head? Seriously? I mean, sure, the camera angle was cleverly chosen to hide it for the big reveal, but I refuse to believe neither Jace or Clary didn’t have a chance to catch a glimpse of it. Those runes aren’t subtle. Surely they would have seen some trace?

And here we see Todd and Darren once again leaning heavily on the plot-convenient incompetence trope. You seriously expect me to believe that Jace and Clary were grabbed like that without putting up even the littlest bit of a struggle, aside from a few twitches and grunts? They never even went for their weapons. Jace just kept his hands clasped behind his back while the guy grabbed his jacket. They just go along and let themselves be shackled.

UGH. Sloppy, sloppy writing/directing.

They’re doing the same thing with Meliorn that they’ve done a number of times with Raphael. His actions are so inconsistent that it’s impossible to get a handle on his motivations. I know book!Meliorn was just loyal to the Queen, full stop, but show!Meliorn hasn’t been portrayed that way. So what’s he doing here? I’d say he’s following orders because he has no choice, except that he seems too smug and complacent about it.

IDK

Also, as fierce as Seelie knights are supposed to be, Luke fucking disarmed them both right quick.

I like this glimpse at Clave (well, sort of) operations in Idris. Until now I don’t think we’ve had much of a look at thing as a purely military organization.

I know plenty of people have already meta’ed about this, but Malachi’s whole speech about there not being any such thing as Downworlders when Raziel created the first Shadowhunters is utter bullshit.

1) The Fair Folk were definitely already around. Shadowhunters have been in existence for ~1000 years (IIRC Jonathan Shadowhunter was a Crusader?) Faeries have been around much longer than that.

2) Jonathan Shadowhunter raised Raziel with the help of a warlock (I don’t remember if that’s in the books or in the supplementary material/wiki.) Which just makes sense. How else would he have acquired the tools and knowledge to summon an angel? And why would demons only have started procreating with humans in the last millennia when they have been around and able to get to our realm for much longer than that?

3) I’m not as certain about vampires and werewolves. But why would the Soul Sword have been created with the ability to wipe them out if they weren’t already in existence?

So I guess we can interpret Malachi’s diatribe in one of two ways. Either the writers are retconning the history of the world, or this is a deliberate choice illustrating how racists rewrite history to erase marginalized people from the narrative.

If it’s the former, they’re going to piss off myself and a lot of other people with even a modicum of common sense and understanding about the lore. If it’s the latter, they really need to make that a little more explicitly clear at some point, lest viewers who don’t have a clearer idea of the lore imagine that what Malachi said is actually canon.

*sigh* I don’t really have any commentary here, I just love them all working together. There are people meta’ing about the fact that apparently Magnus and Izzy were filmed calling the demons “asmodei” and apparently it was dubbed over as “edomei” (but the subtitles on the international Netflix release still say “asmodei”.) That change could mean anything or nothing. It could be as simple as they didn’t want to confuse things when we’re already familiar with Edom but not the fact that Asmodeus rules it. Or it could mean they are holding that concept of Asmodeus in reserve as a major Magnus-related plot point down the line.

Anyone else, familiar with how unstable sand can be, get a little nervous when they approached that big hole? Just me?

As I remarked in the comments on another post, I’m torn about how to interpret Alec’s sudden inability to draw another arrow and shoot it.

After the demon dodged his first arrow, he had plenty of time to draw, take aim, and shoot. We saw him earlier stand steady in the face of a demon bearing straight down on them until he had a point-blank shot. He totally could have done it, and my first thought for why he decided instead to turn and run screaming for Magnus’s help was more of Darren and Todd’s heavy reliance on convenient incompetence.

However. If he had waited until the demon was right on top of them to try for another shot, and the demon had dodged again, it would have been too late for him to reach Magnus and warn and protect him. So there’s a chance that his charging down the beach wasn’t him screaming for help, but yelling to warn Magnus that the demon was coming right toward his back.

I honestly don’t know which it is. Either is possible.

I know I’ll probably get some flack for this, but I’m quite disappointed that this was the extent of Magnus and Alec fighting “together” that we saw.

Todd’s remarks at SDCC gave a completely different impression. First of all, they gave the impression (talking about a “true blending of their abilities” or something to that effect) that we’d see the Alliance rune, which clearly we did not get in this episode. Second, they weren’t really fighting together here. It was one demon, and it was barely a fight. It came at them, Magnus blasted it, fight over.

I was expecting some sort of epic battle sequence but um, no. Not that I mind them taking down a dragon together, but seriously, Todd built this scene up to be something it wasn’t even close to being, and I’m a little irritated by that.

“I’m the High Warlock of Brooklyn.” Yes Magnus, yes you are.

One thing I’m NOT disappointed in is that Magnus remembered that. And reminded Alec of that.

Since s2ep12, we’ve seen Magnus in this very powerless place. He’s rendered powerless by being stuck in Valentine’s body. He’s powerless to defend himself against the Clave’s racial profiling. He’s powerless to escape the tragic memories that were forced back into the forefront of his consciousness by the Clave’s tortures. He’s made powerless to defend himself and his people against Valentine and the Soul Sword by Alec and the Clave’s lies. Then he’s made powerless again by the Seelie Queen’s betrayal.

What we’re seeing here is him reclaiming his power, remembering—and reminding others—that he is strong. He’s immensely, almost incomprehensibly powerful. And that’s important.

Yeah, this was the moment I started muttering “oh shit this is not good.” Simon Simon Simon…

I do like that the show seems to remember that Idris is on the other side of the world from New York city, and we see day/night differences accordingly.

I’ve meta’ed else where about Consul Malachi and the fact that his being a Circle member means precisely jack shit to any show watcher. In the books, we didn’t have a very clear picture of him, but we at least got to know him well enough that when it turned out he was working with Valentine, it mattered. On the show, it means exactly nothing. He’s Random Bad Guy #3407. We feel nothing about his betrayal, and nothing about his death, other than to hope that maybe the Clave will now come under new and better management. It was a lazily executed subplot, frankly.

However, we do have an interesting situation that wasn’t present in the books.

In the books, Imogen Herondale died long before this point. In fact, she died before Jace ever found out he was a Herondale. A man named Aldertree (who was described quite differently from the Victor Aldertree who was Head of the Institute in season 2A, so I don’t know if he was meant to be the same character) was Inquisitor at this point in the books. Aldertree was killed by Valentine, and then Malachi turned out to be a traitor and died. At the same time, in order to get the cooperation of the Downworld against Valentine’s forces, Luke (and Jocelyn, who was still alive in the books) got the Clave to agree to give Downworlders voting seats on the Council.

So now, on the show, we have Imogen Herondale still alive. Aldertree (assuming it’s meant to be the same character) possibly still alive but supposedly disgraced. Jocelyn is dead, however, and there was no epic battle between the Clave and an army of demons Valentine summoned and controlled with the Mortal Cup, so the need for the Clave and the Downworld to work together to fight him never came about.

What I’m getting at here is…what is the political landscape going to look like in Season 3 for the show?

In the books, Robert Lightwood becomes Inquisitor. Is it possible he might become Inquisitor while Imogen Herondale steps up to Consul? Maybe, but I sincerely hope not. I would much rather see Maryse become the political mover and shaker, and I’d like to see her take a page out of Alec’s book and introduce the idea of restructuring the Council to give Downworld representatives a vote. But what would compel the Clave to agree to that, without the Downworld having to strongarm them into it with the threat of letting the Clave be annihilated unless they agreed?

This could be the issue that puts the final nail in the coffin of Robert and Maryse’s marriage and paves the way for a romance between Luke and Maryse as well.

Okay. Okay. Hold up.

Are you telling me that Sebastian, who was impaled (supposedly through the heart) on a massive sword, somehow survived hours in the cold, polluted water and managed to drag himself ashore, but Jace goes down for the count after a few seconds from a little poke with a pocket knife?

The same Jace who just the night before took a sword to the lung and is apparently now hunky-dory?

Seriously?

SERIOUSLY???

This isn’t exactly the plot-convenient incompetence thing that Darren and Todd keep pulling, but it’s a near relation. And I hate it. It insults our intelligence.

With all that’s happened it’s hard to believe we’re only halfway through the episode at this point. I’m seriously amazed by how much they pack into these episodes.

That said, my fondest wish for Season 3 is that they’ll slow things down and work for it a bit more, lay more groundwork instead of speeding through everything. I doubt I’ll get that wish, though.

I remember an interview with Dominic Sherwood—or was it Alan Van Sprang?—where he spoke of Jace and Valentine having this really powerful moment of connection in the finale, and since I knew the books and had a pretty good idea what was coming, I suspected it would be something like this. In the books, Valentine actually weeps when he kills Jace. I like that, even as utterly corrupt and vile as Valentine is, he still at least deludes himself that he knows what love is enough to mourn the child he destroyed.

The editing of this entire sequence is a little frustrating for me, because they show Alec reacting in pain and shock, but just when we’re about to see Alec start really emoting about what’s happening, they cut away to Clary. And I have to give Kat full props, she plays this beautifully. Her grief here is so much more convincing and compelling than it was in s2ep04/s2ep05. (Maybe that’s because she had another actor whom she obviously feels close to to play the scene off of? It’s probably easier to get in the moment when your friend is lying there “dead” in front of you.) But Alec’s reaction is important here, too, and I feel like we don’t really get enough of it to feel what he’s feeling. The next time we see him, he’s in soldier mode and it just feels very disconnected.

I’m a little annoyed also that Clary didn’t even try to go for Jace’s iratze rune but instead just sat there crying. Despite that, their moment got me. A lot of that is totally on Dom and his improvised “I love you” because I’m a sucker for stuff like that, the sheer pathos of making that monumental admission of love at the last moment when it carries no promise of hope or a future. Good stuff, there.

Gotta admit, it’s kinda hard to comment on this whole sequence because I just get caught up in watching it.

Alec’s immediate concern for Magnus’s safety is amazing, as is Magnus’s utter disregard for it. He’s just remembered his own strength; he’s not going to run for shelter when everyone is in danger.

I really wish Raziel had read Valentine the riot act the way he did in the books, raking Valentine over the coals for his arrogance and the fact that every thought he’d ever had that he was fulfilling Heaven’s mandate was pure egotism.

If Valentine hadn’t decided to do the palm-slitting thing in dramatically slow motion, Clary wouldn’t have been able to stop him. Alas, all his carefully laid schemes were undone by his need to posture.

The fight scene was brutal and perfect.

Clary going Princess Stabbity (yes, I have co-opted that name from Dragon Age; it belongs to Clary now) all over Valentine’s ass is a thing of beauty. Especially after the way she did the same thing to Sebastian in s2ep18. Apparently her fighting style is just to keep poking things until they fall down or run away. I like it.

I especially like that she kills Valentine with the same knife he used to murder Jace. Much more satisfying than Raziel smiting Valentine like he did in the books.

“And be wise.” Wise? Really? This is Clary we’re talking about, Raziel.

I know there have been people (none that I follow) who have scoffed about Clary bring back Jace instead of her mother. I don’t have a problem with it. No, it doesn’t mean she loves only Jace and doesn’t love her mother. It means her grief from her mother’s death has had time to heal more, to become something she can live with, and in that moment, the same could not be said for the grief from Jace’s death. It was much more recent and much more raw and it wasn’t a decision she had time to mull over or be philosophical about.

*sigh* Sometimes people just expect too damn much from characters.

(and yes, grammar check, I know “rawer” is actually the proper word, but I hate it so…no.)

I like that Jace points out the consequences of bringing people back from the dead. It brings the events following Jocelyn’s death full circle and turns them into foreshadowing, giving her death purpose in the context of the story instead of just something they did to flaunt the fact that they could deviate from the books at will.

I want to go on a rant about the way Jace and Clary’s kisses are filmed versus the way Magnus and Alec’s kisses are filmed, but this probably isn’t the place for it. Let’s just suffice to say that Malec’s kisses remain oddly chaste and passionless, with the exception of s1ep12 and the bedroom scene in s2ep18. Someone commented on one of my meta posts a few weeks ago that Magnus and Alec kiss like they’ve been married for 40 years, and it’s true. They don’t kiss like people who have only been a couple for just over a month.

I don’t know if it’s the actors or the directors, but I’m getting really tired of it, because kisses between Jace and Clary are filmed entirely differently.

Alec saying “it’s over” just kills me because of course we know that it’s not. They think Sebastian is dead, and Valentine is dead, and of course they’re wrong on the first count. I feel so bad for them because this has been two months of just non-stop nightmare for them and I wish they could have that respite for real.

I love Magnus hugging Izzy here.

Please give me 20 more episodes of drunk Luke. Even if he is a cop forgetting that Clary is a minor.

I’m wondering at the presence of Seelies at this party. It would seem after the Queen’s betrayal and assisting Valentine that they would personae non gratae at a celebration of Valentine’s defeat. But whatevs.

And can we talk about this scene between Clary and Izzy? I know the Clizzy shippers are mourning the sister thing, but we’re getting REAL CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT from Clary here!

s2ep12 was all about Sebastian getting in Clary’s head and telling her how isolated she is, how she has no family left. Because, of course, he wanted to supplant her those connections with himself as her miraculously-returned brother. And she bought into that. She basically spent the rest of season 2B angsting over the fact that Jonathan was the last of her family, etc, etc.

So to see her here, acknowledging and valuing her found-family is pretty important and honestly not the sort of character growth we tend to get for Clary, so I’m in favor.

There’s been a lot of meta done already about the dual levels that Clary’s conversation with Simon is happening on. She’s saying “welcome back” while he’s saying “goodbye” and ow, my heart. I find Clary adorable when she’s playing Simon’s wingman, and as much as I bought into Climon 1000X more than I ever expected it to, this feels absolutely right for them and I’m so glad their interactions will never again carry this omnipresent undertone of Simon pining for her.

Once again, Alberto is just killing it all through Simon’s scene here. He’s so charming and funny and yet those moments when you get a glimpse at him letting down the mask are amazing. How is he just so incredibly GOOD? He continues to be the best actor in the whole cast, which is saying something because there are a few really good actors on this show.

I like Jace and Maia’s little moment, for no other reason than to wrap up loose ends and demonstrate that there’s really nothing there between them. Which is sad because they really do have crazy chemistry, book canon be damned.

I both loved and had issues with Magnus and Alec’s resolution here. Alec’s heart-eyes when he looks at Magnus, his heavy breathing as he amps himself up for their talk in the alley… It’s all amazing.

There’s something about the way Alec says “I don’t think I can live without you” that just grips me. He says it very baldly and simply, but that’s par for the course for Alec. I’m still trying to parse what’s different about this declaration.

The “I love you” in s2ep10 was something that Alec was very nervous to admit. I mean, yes, he was still dealing with residual fear from his concern over Magnus’s safety, so part of his anxiety in that moment might have been due to that, but it was just very clear from his breathing and his body language that it was something he had to amp himself up for.

And there have been other, very purposeful declarations Alec has made throughout the season as well, and those have a different tone entirely. He goes marching into them like the soldier he is, standing stalwart in the face of these blunt truths, refusing to flinch from them.

This admission here…it’s almost the exact opposite of any of those occasions. He goes from anxious to calm. He’s not anxiously powering through it, and he’s not staunchly resolute.

He just…surrenders to it. That’s the only word I can use to describe it. There’s a sort of helplessness in that look he gives Magnus, the little shake of his head. The simplicity of the statement. No dramatics. “You hold my entire hope for happiness in the palm of your hand, and I’m giving in to that fact. There’s nothing I can do here to affect the outcome, it’s entirely on you and it’s just going to be what it is.”

It’s wonderfully nuanced acting on Matt’s part.

So, that’s why I loved the scene. On one hand, I would have absolutely lost my fucking mind if they’d carried the break-up over through the hiatus.

However…On the other hand, there’s still so much that needs to be said and I need to especially know that Alec gets it.

What went wrong between them wasn’t just about the Soul Sword and his failure to disclose what he knew about it. What went wrong is that he still thinks too much like a Shadowhunter who believes his job is to manage and control the Downworld and make decisions for them instead of working with them as an ally. And I’m not sure Alec gets that and he needs to. And it’s okay for Alec not to be there yet, as long as he knows this is something he has to learn to do. It’s not as simple as saying “I won’t do that again.” He needs to reprogram his entire way of thinking, his entire concept of his world and the role he plays in it, and it’s going to take time.

I do love that Magnus is open to giving him that chance, I just wish we’d seen an understanding of the true nature of the conflict acknowledged.

Don’t get me started on the kiss again. Why are they not permitted to really just snog each other and make out the way other couples on the show do? It bothers me and it’s going to continue to bother me.

You can’t tell me Isaiah didn’t have the time of his life playing this scene. He probably had the entire rest of the cast in stitches. I’m gonna need ALL the footage of stuff that ended up on the cutting room floor.

Ollie really couldn’t have chosen a worse moment to show up. I am looking forward to finding out what her deal is in season 3.

Though, honestly? I was hoping that season 3 would start with the characters enjoying at least a few weeks of respite to let the dust settle, but clearly that isn’t going to be the case, because with Jace screaming in agony clearly there won’t be the slow build-up to the Lilith-related plotline that was in City of Fallen Angels.

Also, there’s no way anyone is going more than a day or two without noticing that Simon is missing.

…unless Simon ISN’T missing. We have no idea what the nature of the deal he struck with the Seelie Queen is. Is she going to keep him with her in her realm permanently? If she does that, she has to know people will start looking for him. Or will she let him carry on his life with the requirement that he spend a certain amount of his time with her also?

In the books, Simon and Maia’s relationship ends because he’s two-timing her with Izzy. Clearly show!Simon would never do that in the way it happened in the books, but if he’s in this position where he has no choice but to carry on these two relationships because he’s trying to protect Maia…maybe?

I don’t know. There’s some people who think that Simon’s use of the words “for better or for worse” means that he’s being made to marry the Seelie Queen. Which would also be an interesting twist.

I’ve commented before on the fact that the choice of a child to play the Seelie Queen initially was probably a nod toward Maureen as she existed in the books. There, she was 13/14 year old girl who was Simon’s self-appointed groupie. Obviously show!Maureen went someplace entirely, so she wouldn’t really work here.

In the books, however, Maureen ended up becoming a vampire, taking over Raphael’s clan and appointing herself “queen”, and forcing Simon to be her “king.” So what we could be seeing here with this Seelie Queen plotline is some variation of that thread in the books, perhaps?

I love how there are all these people around and no one notices the guy screaming on the ground.

I have to admit, the notion that all those demons we actually pieces of Lilith that would eventually coalesce into her manifestation was not something that I saw coming, and a really cool concept. Especially since we’ve already seen a foreshadowing of that ability, in the fact that Azazel could transform into a swarm of locusts. These Edomei demons are, of course, much more massive than locusts, which sort of gives a comparative notion of just how hugely powerful Lilith is.

I remarked in my liveblog at the time that it would be really cool if Lilith were played by Maxim Roy, but I doubt that will happen. IMDB has her in the credits as Tara Westwood (at least, a character just called “Woman” whom I assume is Lilith.) Whether that’s who is going to play Lilith in season 3 or not, I couldn’t say.

And there we have it. I wonder if Will Tudor is going to have to spend season 3A the same way Maxim Roy spent season 1, just sort of lying there unresponsive all the time. If they stick to the books, the answer is yes, but God, what a waste of Will’s talents that would be.

See you next season!

#shadowhunters #recaps #meta #shadowhunters meta #s2ep20 #s2b

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