#fuck off you french fuck

[cecoeur]

Hey Laurent, Maybe it was all of you NOT being open about anything that put him under intense mental and emotional pressure for one of the most physical weekends on the calendar? And maybe, it was the way that allowed every so-called reporter in the paddock to say the nastiest shit to his face and call it journalism.

[animentality]

not to be racist against the French or anything but why has every French man I've ever met been allergic to getting off his ass and helping his wife do literally anything at all at big family events

[vultures-and-scavengers]

there's so many ~rules~ around fancy dinners, the courses, the silver you use, names for foods you might never have heard, and i imagine its far worse in orlais, where everything is over the top and meant to be seen and judged.

and josephine and leliana can navigate that fine, and depending on the inquisitor (especially trevelyans), i imagine they can handle themselves.

which leaves the last member of the leadership quartet, who spent the first 13 years of his life eating rural ferelden fare and then spent the next 16-17 years likely eating in mess halls between duties.

and how do you then represent the inquisition in a world where you are the outsider and everything about the world you are stepping foot in is meant to keep you and other commoners out? when this world is the one that plays with the lives of commoners like toys?

[sophiethewitch1]

You mentioned that all the Wayne's post thirst traps. And that Damian's are like Victorian women showing some racy ankle. What does he consider a thirst trap then.

Have you ever seen a man in a dark turtle neck sweater.

[lazy--lillies]

Sorry not sorry but Piper and Hazel being able to speak French to each other and understand it better than Leo and Reyna speaking Spanish to each other is still the funniest thing HOO ever did

[dkettchen]

Brennan: in the mountains of Luxembourg

me, from Luxembourg: *gets jumpscared*

me: mf we ain't got mountains in Luxembourg

[dragonmons]

my thought process for durandal:

[redwayfarers]

Belle, n’aie peur de cela, Partout où sera ta demeure, Mon ciel, jusqu’à tant que je meure, Et mon paradis sera là. - Baiser, Joachim du Bellay (1542)

one year of nikartoirel <3

[landfilloftrash]

I KNOW YOU HAVEN'T SHINGOU POSTED IN MONTHS BUT I WAS LOOKING THROUGH YOUR ART AND I JUST GOT AN IDEA AND I FEEL LIKE I AM LEGALLY OBLIGATED TO TELL YOU ABOUT IT

We all know Manfred is like "Only I may kill him" about Gregory

BUT WHAT IF GREGORY WAS LIKE "He may be my murderer, but he's MY murderer" ABOUT MANFRED?

MY APOLOGIES I HAVE DOODLES BUT NOTHING REALLY NOTEWORTHY TO POST </3

but ooooo. This. This I can work with.

Local ghost manifests out of sheer spite for the petty accusation when he was murdered by the MASTER of petty

feat. A bonus doodle based on one of YOUR tags funnily enough /jov

baby miles Learning…… that man…….

[batsplat]

omgg i started following you because i loved your motogp posts and i did not expect to get emotionally attacked about my tennis fave like this. you've lit expressed everything ive felt abt tennis lately like daniil's return game has developed so well these last few years if only his shoulders were still functional he wld be soo unstoppable (i remember like last 2 year-ish when his serve suddenly went to shit and i was like wtf is going on?? but then it turned out his shoulders don' work anymore😭😭😭) ngl i did not expect him to make it to the ao finals this yr at all but then he did and i started getting hope again and then well uk what happened next... (i actually went to bed when he was up 2 sets because i alrdy had premonitions for what was abt to happen and i didnt need that experience twice 😭) anyways i finally quit watching the men's tour reguarly middle of this yr-ish because mostly because my biggest opp started winning big tournanments/slams consistently and i cld not take it anymore (part of why i got into motogp ig, i needed a new thing to fill in the hole)

also ur thing being having to be the chosen one in men's tennis is soo true but i wld argue it cld even be broadened down to being in the chosen generation... every 90s born player doomed to be seen as the weak links of the sport, both forever destined to be surpassed by those who came before and those who came after...

anyways mostly i also just wanted to thank you for writing all your super information motogp posts!! not only is ur writing style super informative/consistent, all the topics u've written abt feel super unique like i doubt i wld ever randomly stumble elsewhere. i'm not that good w/ words so idk how to fully express my appreciation, but your posts are the main reason i started delving into more past motogp races and interviews instead of just sticking to current ones which has 1000% made my experience of becoming a motogp fan more enjoyable!

🥺🥺 such a nice ask from a fellow sufferer... I actually tried to sleep in for the ao final and managed for like. maybe a set. it's so funny to have a whole fanbase quite literally begging their player not to go up two sets to love, zero hindsight needed I was HORRIFIED by that second set going his way... especially since I noticed the balance of play in the actual games had changed and meddy wasn't winning any return points anymore, just relying on an earlier break to seal that set iirc. and then I started going for increasingly desperate tactics to distract myself when the inevitable happened in the next three sets (including rewatching marc marquez: all in, it was rough man, like I get what you're saying about getting into motogp to escape because generally I too have fled to this sport whenever tennis has most been pissing me off)

and obviously that final was very trauma flashbacks to my definitive sports trauma, a match I'm STILL not over and at this rate have accepted I'll be miserable about until the day I die. but this time I couldn't even BLAME him because it was an insane effort to even get to the final, he'd done such a fantastic job given his tennis really wasn't there at the start of the tournament, he just kept figuring out ways to win... the hurkacz match where he basically ran out of fuel in the fourth, that crazy semifinal where he just refused to know when he was beaten, and then taking two sets off sinner in that final!! the resilience and the grit but also the tactical acumen, like my god when he blindsided hurkacz by radically altering his return position RIGHT AFTER doing that post-match back-and-forth with courier where he explained in detail why he favoured his regular return position. the cleverness and the bravery he showed in clutch points in that semi, something that zverev is completely incapable of (monte carlo 2023 still lives rent free lol), like the psychology of that match slapped. how he took it so sinner, completely caught him off guard by mixing up his game, and it was WORKING. really managed to change the dynamic of that match up... he lost that match first and foremost in his legs. just so cruel after everything. we had the guy who easily disposed of an admittedly rubbish djokovic in the semis on the ropes. and it still. was. not. fucking. enough. one of the best slam final runs in recent memory and it still wasn't enough!! he's already far outperformed what he SHOULD have been capable of in his career and somehow he keeps developing a game style which should have plateaued ages ago and I have so much respect for the work him and gilles have done post-2022... and he really should have more to show for it

anyway yeah I remember the serve decline in 2022, back when I was really in the weeds with analysing meddy's game. and that was also the year it felt like his legs completely deserted him. his deciding set record that year was horrific after ao, very rarely even got it that far win or lose and when he did so almost always lost (karatsev was cramping, let's not talk about the other third set win)

scorelines from the tour finals genuine miracle i did not throw myself into the sea

only one four set match post-ao and he also lost that, incidentally. and obviously that was partly because his brain was fucked, BUT I also wondered whether it was the aftereffects of the hernia operation that year affecting both the physicality and the serve. and I can't remember if he confirmed that anywhere but the theory's certainly cottoned on to help explain the serve decline, even if his endurance obviously has massively improved again. and then add in the shoulder... it's so brutal because it used to be such a key pillar to his game, like the whole magic was tied together by being able to whizz through his own service games while making his opponent's return games hellish

and like,, the thing I really admire about him is that there was a period in 2022 where it did feel like he'd been 'figured out', like there was increasingly a game plan that could be used against him. serve and volley, etc etc. but to some extent, he's managed to resist just being written off when facing elite competition BECAUSE he keeps coming up with ways to throw his opponents off-balance. what he's been doing this year, for all that it hasn't gotten him great results, has been so much fun to watch - really reminded me of his summer/autumn 2019 stretch where he'd played so much he should've constantly been at risk of keeling over of exhaustion but adapted to it by just becoming a completely different player. wawrinka uso 2019 match still goes crazyyyy, one of his most underrated performances. serve and volley in the uso 2019 final I wanna run to u. it's such a wonderfully unique game that's frankensteining all these unique parts together that all sort of shouldn't work but all sort of do, harnessed and constantly reinvented by (let's face it) the smartest top player currently in the game. and it really does piss me off that he hasn't been rewarded more. he's been the best of the rest since 2019, he's absolutely maximised his game for someone who doesn't have that stratospheric big three-level of talent and I WANT it to actually matter. but men's tennis will always see talent triumphing over guile I fear, and meddy has consistently been a victim of poor timing

and yeah, the generational aspect is true, where the entire ''''''''nextgen''''''''' cohort has essentially been doomed - partly because they just weren't good enough, but partly because they arrived at just the right time window to still be thoroughly traumatised by the big three without getting any kind of a break before the next super talents showed up. until 2022 I really did naively believe we were getting a chaos era of SOME kind until that decrepit spanish ghoul showed up in australia to trample all over my soul and give me depression, and then immediately another bloody spaniard started going at it. how can you not be a little bit bitter that alcaraz got to swan to his first slam title without having to face a single member of the big three? idk man like sometimes it really is the magic of sports that the anointed few don't just have talent on their side, they are also fantastically lucky. you see it with how the big three all secured their first slams... things just seem to work out somehow. infuriating and existentially horrifying

anyway. lol. as you can see I do always have a tennis rant in me. will always be a major part of my life, obviously something I have a far far better understanding of than any other sport, still keep up with the women's game fairly closely... where icl it helps that the players I'm most invested in have dropped off SO badly this year, partly due to injury, that I can merrily ignore their existence. plus, and this bit is crucial, I don't loathe the players who actually win things. so I'm in a happy place where I just enjoy the sport and (if anything) want Certain top players to do better than they currently are... but also don't lose any sleep over the results. like, have I been massively frustrated with iga this year? yes, but it's also not made me stare at a wall for five hours. also, it's just been a way better product than this predictable basher servebot shit from the men. women's wimbledon semi day THE best tennis day of the year, prove me wrong. they've had actual classic matches, which the men have been noticeably short on. just sort of been an odd season for the men, with djokovic shrivelling and alcaraz patchy outside of two slams and sinner doing his whole 'I'm not a cardboard cut out I'm a REAL boy' routine on his way to fifty hard court titles and everyone else irrelevant. as I've already said... it's fine. whatever. hope the sport enjoys fifty thousand alcaraz/sinner slam wins as the earth keeps turning around the sun and eventually we all turn to dust. it's fine

and seriously, thank you for everything in the ask... always happy to hear I've made someone's fan experience like. better. and that I add something a little bit different to the mix lol, also literally no compliment I like to read more than anything to do with my actual writing. because this ask was so lovely, here's my personal favourite moment as a tennis fan this year:

still think that australian open title should be restored to us

[omglescubes]

sorry but with all the egg missing angst acted perfectly by the ccs yesterday i cant help but think about the ones who weren't there. especially the french parents :'(( about Baghera, who promised she'd be back and left worried about Bad, planning to give him a real vacation and organize it all with Pomme. all alone with the discovery of her memories, so scared and worried now that she remembers. About Etoiles who logged off hundred of thousands blocks away like he always does, who just triumphed over the Code once again but it never felt like a victory. How he spend the entire time worried sick about Pomme, and when she woke up he had to learn she's been plagued by nightmares. How they went exploring like the good old days, but he was always looking around, checking on her, making sure she was okay. Making sure it was really her. And Antoine!! Who last time he saw Pomme she was all dirty and confused , and they had no answer, no clue as to what happened, and he kept trying to ask her what she felt, if she had any ideas what could've happend and there was nothing. Completely powerless. And now when they come back there won't be any more clues, they all tried their best to be here for her, but she's gone. And there's nothing they can do.

[yashley]

you ever think about how a choice that wasn’t even really a choice for fearne, but her being the only one with the ability to perform the ritual that made it her* choice as everyone around her buckled to try to help her out of that situation and the ramifications of that choice that she had scarred her so deeply that now she is terrified of making another mistake that will dramatically affect the people around her who she loves, and then when another situation followed, she was led into a situation that she did not want to be a part of, but under the veil of friendship reluctantly assisted and it blew up literally once again, took that overwhelming burden of guilt and while her friends stood by and once more let her be alone in her guilt and scarred her further.

now it feels like she can’t make any choice for herself, she can’t make any move because that will ultimately inevitably lead to her making a mistake and all of her precious friends will look down at her in disappointment and that there is not a single friend amongst them who has the emotional wherewithal to what’s happening with how fearne has changed and how she is shutting in on herself and how she is slowly imploding breaking at the seams because she’s being lost in the sea of guilt and no one else notices and no one else sees that she feels like she can’t do anything anymore from the smallest carefree little action that has no plot repercussions to a character centered decision that is integral to her own character arc that has been in the works for her character since the campaign’s conception

now she can’t even say anything, and if fearne does have an idea to do something. She quietly mutters it, and if they hear her they hear her enough to respond that ehhh that's not a good plan and that’s not gonna work and we’re not gonna do that. We’re gonna do this and fearne being fearne, trusting in her friends and doubting herself to the point of despair will nod her head that they were right and then we go on with our day until the next moment happens where she wants to think of something, she wants to do something, and it’s dismissed as the silly dumb fearne not thinking, that She has her own thoughts and feelings, and drives and desires but because she is drowning in doubt and drowning in guilt, She freezes up and doesn’t move and everyone around her just pushes her on, and even in the moment where she is faced with the situation that she is terrified of undertaking, and she is terrified of becoming a Nightmare version of herself her friends push her forward, her friends dust off her shoulders say your doubt is misplaced, and don’t worry about it and you need to do this, it should be you. This is for you.

They just completely dismiss and ignore her when she actually does speak up so what does that do? that means that she remains silent. She doubts herself more. She even more will only make a decision if it’s signed off by all these fucking people around her who claim to be her friends. she can’t even move without frantically looking to people around her for confirmation that that’s a good idea she’s not gonna fuck up. Everything about her that was supposed to be free and fun and sweet has just rendered her into a character who feels like they have as much agency as characters who would be absent for the majority of the campaign.

shes been so chained up by doubt and so chained up by guilt and hesitation and fear that she just is a person who affirms everyone else’s desires and ideas because what she wants will inevitably end up being horrible and everyone will hate her for it and they’ll leave

and it’s like if they deem fearne even capable enough to be the vessel she will leap at the chance to be useful and to be told her path and it’s like. fearne was ruidusborn first. how has this campaign done such a disservice to her character that the only thing fearne is certain of is that she doesn’t really matter. she’s a ruidusborn and holds a primordial titan of fire inside her, and she still believes she doesn’t really count are you kidding me

[softquietsteadylove]

omg I love possessive Gil in your 10 things AU so much🥵 can you please write more smut like that? (with any AU you want)💌❤️‍🔥

Thena laughed at the man's joke, who was happy to receive her payment with a sleek smile. His hand even floated down to her shoulder. Their exchange continued, but that hand felt the need to linger.

Gil watched it the entire time.

Thena was on her doctor mandated break, from both performing and even teaching for at least two weeks. He was happy to take care of her at home, but almost at the end of her time off, she was getting restless. So, seeing a show seemed like a great idea.

Thena had a great time--at least he thought she did. He had asked if she knew anyone in it but she hadn't recognised any names from the show program. That made this even worse.

The male lead had just happened to recognise Thena, purely from running in similar professional circles. Gil was proud of it! She was an amazing ballerina, of course she should be recognised for it. That wasn't the problem. This guy was the problem.

"I'm honoured I could finally meet the Swan herself," he schmoozed right in her face.

Gil tugged at his tie. He called her that, thank you.

"I've seen so many of your shows, I should be the one dying to meet you," he continued. His hand left Thena's shoulder, but only to trail down her arm to clasp her hand in his. He was really pushing it.

"Nonsense, you're the crown jewel of your company," she countered his flattery, although she hadn't yanked her hand out of his yet, much to Gil's distaste.

"If only I were the crown jewel of yours." Okay, this guy definitely knew what he was doing. Gil stood straighter as the man even raised Thena's hand to his lips.

"Oh," she blinked, blushing faintly as he did so.

Gil cleared his throat loudly. He had stood by for enough of this. He moved in without a thought to the jostling of everyone. He elbowed the man out of his way and captured Thena's waist in his arm. "Sorry, we're late for something."

"Gil!"

"Of course," the man sighed dramatically. He waved as Thena was dragged away from him. "It was a pleasure, ma cherie!"

"I'll show you pleasure.

"Gilgamesh," Thena huffed as he ushered her into an empty dressing room and slammed the door behind them. "What is-!"

He pulled her close, taking her lips in his. He cushioned the back of her head with his hand, although her back hit the door as he pressed as close as he could get.

Thena moaned against his lips, their tongues moving fluidly and her hands on his cheeks. Her shoulders bunched up, surprised by his urgency.

He moved his shoulders, eager to get her elbows out of his way. He moved his hands from her waist to grasp her behind through the light layers of her pretty dress.

"Gil!" she all but yelped. He hoisted her, hands grasping her behind so he could move them from the door to the mirror. He plunked her down onto the table of it, her shoulders pressed against the cold glass. She gasped. "What are you doing?!"

But he wasn't in the mood. He was in a very different mood. He grasped the insides of her knees to help them wind around him. These things were the perfect height. "You want pleasure?"

"Gil," Thena attempted to scold him, but he could watch the tiny twitches in her face as he trailed his hand up the inside of her thigh.

"You can have it," he breathed into her ear. He dragged his teeth over it, enjoying the flush of red that followed. She shivered. He used the other hand to trail over where he had watched that asshole do exactly the same. He would replace that man's touch on Thena's body with his own. "Because you're mine."

"Gil," she bit her lip as he latched onto her neck. His one hand continued to trail lightly from her hand up to her shoulder, back and forth, up and down, so lightly it was almost ticklish. But he reached her shoulder and planted it more firmly. "We can't."

"What did I just say?" he whispered roughly, his other hand reaching its goal and easily pushing aside the white lace she was wearing. He remembered it well; he had watched her select that exact set and then joke about not going.

Thena whimpered as he skipped any sort of warm up and instead pushed in just the tips of his fingers first.

"Miss Thena," he teased, pushing in to the second knuckle. "What did I tell you?"

"You're mine," she panted, her hands finally moving up his chest and around his neck to his back to pull him closer.

He chuckled. It was close enough. He liked rendering his Swan all ruffled and speechless. He dove, dragging his teeth from her neck down her clavicle to her cleavage. "I said you're mine."

Thena let out a deeper moan as he pushed his fingers in completely, simultaneously using his teeth to drag down the front of her dress. It had been sitting just off her shoulders, teasing him all night.

He reached for the back zipper, freeing her breasts completely. Its tightness had offered her some lift. He admired the way they bounced, now at gravity's mercy again.

"Gil, please," she whimpered, moving her hips with his fingers.

He could multitask. He continued to watch the rhythm of her breasts, eventually bending his head to take a nipple between his teeth. He bit a little more firmly than necessary. Her back arched but he pushed his thumb into the dip of her collar bone, not needing any pressure to keep her shoulders against the mirror. It was fogging up.

Thena whined as he pulled his fingers away. She was panting for breath and a light sheen was fighting the setting layer of her makeup. "Jealous and a tease?"

If he could give her behind a little smack, he would. But he kept her firmly planted on it, deliberately pulling both hands away from her to undo his belt. She watched with hunger in her eyes. "This what you want?"

She nodded.

He undid his suit trousers, pulling himself out and grasping himself at the base. Fuck, he was hard. "Say it."

"I want you," she managed, her voice full of breath.

He bent her knees more, forcing the skirt of her dress up and out of his way. He gripped the flesh of her inner thigh, a fine mix of natural fat and firm muscle. It clenched as he massaged little circles with his thumb closer and closer to her hip. "Ask for it."

A flash of stubbornness passed over her. He raised his eyebrows, just touching his tip to her warmth.

Her eyes lowered as she looped her arms around his neck, "please, Gil?"

"Please," he moved closer to her ear again, letting her fold her swanly form around him. He nipped at her earring, "what?"

"Please," she whimpered again, the red from her ears shooting down her neck. "Fuck me."

"Good girl," he congratulated her as he pushed in. She moaned, her knees tightening around him before stretching out and then closing in again. "You're mine, aren't you?"

"Yes," she gasped, her whole body adjusting to him in this position as he kissed along her throat.

"And this," he grinned, rolling his hips and hitting up and forward within her. Oh, this was a good spot. She tightened around him and he nipped at her cleavage again in thanks. "This is mine."

"Yes," she moaned, trying to urge him into moving more.

He leaned forward, pushing them both more firmly against the mirror behind them. It was completely fogged up from their heat now. Thena's bare shoulders squeaked against the glass. "All mine?"

"Yes," she whined, digging her heel into the back of his thigh.

"Say it," he teased again, moving lightly, as if they had all the time in the world for him to fuck her in a strange theatre full of other patrons.

"I'm all yours."

"Good."

Gil slammed their hips together, picking up a completely frantic pace. He gripped his arm around Thena, keeping her at the perfect precipice, close enough to the edge for him to push all the way in but also safely planted on the counterspace. These things were not meant to be fucked on; he could hear the braces of it in the wall as they moved.

Thena made a buffet of sounds for him to enjoy. Her head rotated between leaning down, searching for him, and pressing the bun in her hair against the mirror, smearing the steam. "Gil!"

He ran his hand down her arm again, bringing her hand to his lips, then her wrist, then up her arm. "Mine, mine, mine."

"Yours," she repeated back to him. He wasn't sure she was really in the depths of territorial need like he was. But so long as she was enjoying herself, that was what mattered. "Fuck, Gil, I'm-"

"Coming?" he snarled, trailing his tongue from between her breasts and up her neck. He nipped at the sharp angle of her jawbone. "On whose cock?"

"Yours," she answered again, although her voice was so breathy and high in pitch it was getting hard to hear her.

"Say it," he grunted, changing angle, pushing the top of his head down and burying his face in her breasts. Her fingers ran through his hair.

"Your cock, yours," she obeyed, pulsing around him frantically. He gripped her hips and pulled her, slamming and grinding them together where they were joined. Her shoulders slipped down and she gripped the corners of the counter edge as she came.

Gil held her by the waist, lifting her bottom half completely to keep them firmly joined. He came with her, both of them erupting with nowhere to go. He opened his eyes slowly, coming down from the high as they both gasped for breath.

The skirt of her dress pooled around their hips and drooped down from where he was holding her. But he heard a faint dripping sound that made him feel positively feral.

Thena attempted to call out his name, but she was shaking all over, especially her arms. He moved closer again, helping support her again. She leaned over him, her back to the mirror and her front to his chest. She whimpered as he slipped out of her.

Gil examined the damage, slipping her panties back into place, not that she didn't squirm at that. He glanced briefly at the floor as he stuffed himself back into his trousers and did up his belt.

Thena cleared her throat. He looked at her and she looked positively scandalised. Although, her glaring and pouting would do a lot more if she weren't so flushed, and such a cute shade of pink. "Gil."

He chuckled, knowing exactly what she was asking. "Yes, Miss Thena."

She looked away as he wiped the evidence of them off the floor. Her legs were crossed and she was gripping the skirt of her dress over her lap. "I like this dress, you know."

"I'll have it dry cleaned, Gorgeous," he promised, kissing her cheek as he gently helped her slide off the counter. Her heels hit the floor but they clattered and skidded as she struggled to stand upright. "You got it?"

She grumbled into his chest, trying to find the strength in her knees.

"Hm?" he hummed, observing the top of her head and how even her bun was a little messed up now. He picked at it, trying to make it seem more deliberate. She swatted his hand away.

"I said you were insufferable," she huffed as she finally managed to take two straight steps without wobbling.

No, watching some stranger paw at his girlfriend was insufferable. This was quite pleasurable, if he did say so himself. He tilted his head as Thena paused at the door. "Sweetheart?"

She turned, positioning herself behind him. "Tell me if it's all clear."

His poor Thena. She could be so adventurous at times, but when it came to the consequences of their lovemaking, she would prefer not to deal with them. He gripped the handle, ready to strut his stuff.

[brutal-nemesis]

Since you suggested asks for the demon Castys AU...

I'd love to see if Neteri would let him outside like she did with Erebus, and how he would act during the outing, and find out what his reasons might be for not stubbornly fighting her at every turn. Or maybe he does take the chance and run for it? I'm mostly just curious how that scenario would play out.

Sorry this took so long but it's 3.5k words of these two being goobers so I hope that makes up for the wait!

←Previous - Castys & Terror AU Masterlist - Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: some dehumanization associated with slavery, threatened vivisection, noncon touching (unsexy), mentioned noncon surgery, mentioned aphobia

"I thought this was supposed to be, like, a good day for me."

"It is!"

"Put the fucking leash away, then."

"Maybe if you actually behaved for me, I'd consider it, but you're not exactly the most trustworthy, Castys."

Castys rolled his eyes, grumbling. Neteri was the one who'd fucked up his crazy arm surgery and let that creepy bitch H-something come in and nearly strip him naked, but, sure, he was the one being ridiculous. "I guess, but I never even said I wanted to leave the palace. I just wanted delicious street food. You're the one who's deciding to take me outside."

Neteri sighed. "Have you ever even had street food?"

"…No. I just, uh…" Castys scratched the back of his head. "It…it always smelled good from the window of the castle. But my parents wouldn't let me go and try it. Said it was 'unbefitting of my station'." He snorted. "Like I'd ever been up to their standards anyway."

Neteri gave him a sympathetic smile. "I figured it was something like that. Well, what you don't know is that it's best to eat street food when it's fresh. It wouldn't be as good if I just brought it back to you. Plus, I think part of the experience is eating it on the street! Well, not in the street, you don't want to get hit by carts-"

"That much was obvious, thanks." Castys weighed his options. Stay here and think of something else he wanted, or agree to humiliation and eat delicious hot food on sticks? Sure, his magic tongue made everything taste good, but what he wanted was variation, something he'd never tasted before. Those mysterious smells that always wafted up to his window. Fuck, he was already salivating a bit. It didn't help that he hadn't eaten much last night in anticipation of today. "Fine. We can go."

"Great! You won't regret it, I promise!" She said that like Castys wasn't already regretting it a bit, feeling the weight of the chain as she attached it to his new metal collar. The weird red arm she'd given him turned the same shade of brown as the rest of him pretty soon after he got it, but after a few days he'd managed to make it turn red again and grow claws when he wanted it to, and the first thing he did was use the claws to rip his stupid collar off. Neteri didn't exactly appreciate that, and, after spending the night with his wrists chained behind his back, he was gifted a thick metal collar in the morning, which was just…lovely.

Maybe she was right about him not being trustworthy.

"So, what, we're gonna walk around and I'm gonna be your little slave boy?" Castys asked as they made their way through the palace's hallways.

Neteri shrugged. "Something like that. People aren't really going to pay you any mind. Slaves are common enough here."

"Do other people take their slaves for walks like dogs?"

"No, because other people aren't as nice as me," Neteri said proudly.

"Right, of course. I'm very grateful that you cut my arm off and then did a shit job of putting a new one on."

"Okay," Neteri sighed, "I get it. How about I turn the leash invisible, is that enough for you?"

Castys didn't give much of a shit about what random city people thought, mainly just bothered by the pull of the thing on his neck, but…"If you do are you still gonna drag me around by it? It'd look pretty fucking stupid."

"I guess not, so…here." She grabbed his right hand, the links of chain sort of balled up between their palms. "That's not too much touching for you, is it?"

"I can live with it." It was a hell of a lot better than the alternative, and he didn't mind his hands being touched, really. He had to shake a lot of hands with a lot of random people back in his old life, so he was used it. Neteri did her invisible-leash magic, and they continued on their way.

Outside was bright, which was not surprising, but he still had to blink a few times. Fuck, he…he forgot how nice the sun felt. He hadn't even considered the actual outside part of being outside, and it was pretty nice. The sun, the birds, the salty sea breeze, the little lady tugging him along to somewhere…

"So where exactly are we going?" he asked, glancing down streets as they passed them by.

"The seaside market. They have the best food stalls in the city. I don't really have a particalur one in mind, though, so if you see something you want just let me know."

"Sounds good." Castys's stomach grumbled, and he found himself feeling a bit excited. He was going to get good food and get to look at the ocean, which he'd always had a fascination with. He made trips to the seaside when he could back home, but there was always a part of him that longed to hop on a boat and sail away. He…he could do that today, if he played his cards right. Get away from Neteri somehow and stow away until he got discovered and then be forced to work so he didn't get thrown overboard-

Wait, why did his escape daydream end in him basically being a slave again? Could he really not imagine just being free? He tried, but he realized he had no idea what he would do. Freedom to do what he wanted was sort of a foreign concept, now that he thought about it. Most of his life had been dictated by his parents, his future set in stone, never allowed room to even dream of another destiny. But then that other destiny came and it was a brand on his chest and a metal collar around his neck and he still didn't have control over a single fucking thing.

And you would think the idea of finally having control would be attractive but it wasn't it was overwhelming and nauseating and he was a little relieved when the ship's captain caught him and told him to scrub the deck because at least he knew what he needed to do he didn't have to sit there and try to come up with something he'd never had to before he probably wasn't even good at it he wasn't built for it he was just supposed to be-

"-ou alright? Castys?" Neteri was looking up at him, concern in her eyes. She'd pulled them into a quiet side street without him realizing it.

His mouth was dry, and he wondered if he'd been breathing quickly. He swallowed. "Um, yeah, I think I just…got overwhelmed for a second." He plastered a smile on his face. "I'm fine now."

Neteri frowned slightly. "If you say so. Just let me know if this is too much and you want to go back, okay?"

Castys huffed and rolled his eyes. "Trust me, I'm not gonna want to go back."

"I suppose you won't. But, just so you know," she took a step closer, and then another, backing him against a wall as her arm rose up to pin down his neck, "if you try to run, there will be consequences." All the kindness was gone from her voice, her words as cold as her gaze. "No one will help you, and, if they do, they will be breaking the law. You are legally my property, no matter if you believe it or not. And when you are caught, which you will be," her other hand slid under his shirt, pressing against his stomach, and Castys couldn't help but tense up, "I will cut you open and take a good, long look at all of your organs." Her fingers slid upwards, the lightness of her touch making his skin crawl. "Is that clear?" Her hand stopped above his heart, which was pounding a lot faster than he'd like it to.

His eyes darted around, searching for someone, anyone who was watching, who saw him being fucking threatened in broad daylight. But no one gave a shit. That stupid fucking collar was all they needed to see, and suddenly this was okay. He was less than human, after all. Left with no other choice, Castys looked Neteri in the eye and nodded. "Y-yes. Yes, ma'am."

Neteri's demeanor changed completely, and she stepped back, beaming. "Good boy!" She took his hand once more, pulling him along like none of that had just happened. "We're almost there! I'm sure you're hungry."

Castys's appetite had disappeared, but smelling things would probably bring it back, so he nodded. "I'm known for my huge stomach, so you better be ready." This was supposed to be his day, so Neteri better be ready to get him whatever he damn pleased.

Just as soon as he shook off the feeling of her hand under his shirt.

Finally, the buildings gave way to the vast expanse of the ocean, the docks stretching out into the blue crowded with sailors and workers, crates of cargo and coils of rope, the stalls lining the edge of the street busy with vendors advertising their food to hungry passerby. All it took was for Castys to lay eyes on a beautiful, glistening skewer of beef for his appetite to come roaring back. He pointed at it, excited for the first time in ages.

"I've found our first target."

They wove through the crowd, waiting in line after line as Castys saw another thing he'd like to try, only stopping once they couldn't carry any more. They settled down on a ledge by the docks, and Castys took a moment to go over their haul.

His first love, the beef skewer, which he'd had a few bites of in line for other food. The meat had melted in his mouth, juicy and spicy and just pure bliss. Then, there were fried shrimp with a curry sauce all wrapped up in a flaky flatbread, a bowl of noodles stir-fried with pork and vegetables, sticks of crispy potato with a garlic sauce, and a thick mango and yogurt drink.

Every bite was better than the last, and Castys couldn't help but kick his legs back and forth a little bit as he chewed. Neteri watched him with a warm smile, clearly enjoying her food as well. Castys's eyes wandered as he ate, and he ended up watching a strong sailor lady unloading some cargo. She made moving those heavy boxes look effortless, unless they were empty and it was actually effortless. Either way, she had a cool headband and some awesome fire ink designs of sea monsters on her arms. He'd be happy to serve under her in his new sailor escape fantasies.

"You have good taste in women." Neteri was following his gaze with a dreamy sort of smile. What did she mean by…oh, that kind of taste. That kind of tracked for her, now that he thought about it. But as for him…

"Huh? Oh, I just thought she looked cool. I…I don't really have a taste in women."

Neteri cocked her head slightly, smiling openly. "Taste in men, then?"

Castys swallowed. She probably wouldn't care, right? It's not like it mattered for her experiment. "No, I just…don't." He stared at his feet, not wanting to see her reaction.

"Well, nothing wrong with that." Neteri said casually, taking another bite. Castys blinked, slowly turning to look at her, mouth falling open slightly. Nothing…wrong? Neteri noticed him staring and gave him a concerned look. "You okay, Castys?"

"I…" he leaned back, looking at the sky. "No one's ever said that to me before. My parents…it was the one thing that upset them that I wasn't doing on purpose." Their words echoed in his head, the yells that he was broken and faking it and not a real man hurting far more than any insults directed at him for bad behavior. "Are you sure there's not something wrong with me?" he asked quietly.

Neteri huffed, shaking her head. "Of course not. That's just how you are, and you're not the only one who's like that. You don't have to like people or get married or anything if you don't want to. It's perfectly normal."

Normal. He wasn't sure if he even knew what normal was, between his royal upbringing and his demon body parts. Still, while Neteri's opinion of things wasn't always the most trustworthy, maybe…maybe she was right about this. He'd rather believe her over his parents, anyway.

"Have you…have you ever actually met anyone like me? I just always sort of figured I was the only one." It sounded silly now that he said it out loud, but it's not like the topic ever came up when he met people.

"I have! My little brother doesn't really experience attraction, either. He just wants to live with his best friend forever. There are a few people I met in medical school who feel that way, too. So you're really not alone, okay?"

Castys couldn't help but smile, warm relief replacing the tension in his muscles. "Thanks." He didn't want to get too sappy, so he shoved noodles in his mouth. Thinking more about that could happen later when he was in bed and also by himself.

Neteri was impressed when he finished all of his food, and the look on her face when he said he still had room for dessert was priceless. Even so, she insisted he needed a little time to digest, giving the excuse that there were better sweets stands to be found along the cliff face at the back of the city.

So off they went, wandering through the maze of streets, stopping to look at whatever weird things she thought were significant, which included a dusty-ass bookstore, an old poster that she thought was hilarious for some reason, and, the coolest thing, a bunch of different rocks from around the world. If dealing with foreign representatives had involved more cool rocks, Castys might have actually paid attention to the discussions he'd sat in on growing up. Alas, it was all trade agreements.

Finally, they reached the market along the cliff face, and the bustle here was even more overwhelming than the docks had been. There were all sorts of crafts and magic tools and baskets of spices and, best of all, sugary fried stuff.

Castys examined his options carefully, in the end deciding to go with sweet little fried dough balls that came with a creamy vanilla dipping sauce. They were amazing, but his hands and face got all sticky, and Neteri laughed at him for getting custard on his nose. He got his revenge the moment she grabbed his hand again, rubbing his sticky fingers all over the back of her hand.

"You have got to be the grossest prince I've ever met," Neteri mumbled as she used her water magic to clean them both off.

"I try my best." Castys grinned, taking the insult as a compliment. His eyes wandered as she cleaned in between his fingers, a particularly colorful stall catching his eye. If that's what he thought is was…he could at least ask, right? "So, you know, I've been a very good boy, I think."

Raising an eyebrow, she looked up at him. "For the most part."

"Right. So, like, I'm full, and I'm very grateful for all of the food, but if there was, um, something I could get to have later…?" He flashed his most innocent smile.

Neteri relaxed slightly. "Such as? I don't know what's going to keep well, except for…" she looked around, stopping and smiling when she realized what he was talking about. "Sure, I'll get you some candy."

"Epic." Castys eagarly pulled her over to the candy stall, already weighing his options, wondering how many pieces he could get, and what he even wanted.

"You can get five," Neteri sighed, almost sounding like a tired mother. Five was enough for Castys, and, despite his initial idea of getting a wide variety, he settled on five different flavors of candy sticks. They were decently sized, but not so big he couldn't fit the whole thing in his mouth, which was important. You had to be able to have a hands-free enjoyment experience, but be able to take a break and talk or something using the stick to take it out. Castys usually kept the stick in his mouth long after the candy was gone so he could feel like one of those cool guys who sucked on grass without actually having to have grass sticking out of his mouth.

"I get the other flavors, but you're really getting one with a cricket in it?" Neteri asked as they walked away from the stand, putting his candy sticks in her bag.

"I've never eaten a cricket. I want to see what it's like to be a lizard."

Neteri giggled, giving him a slightly confused look. "I guess it's too bad I'm not turning you into a lizard then, huh?"

"If you were I would accept my destiny more readily." Which was true, he would enjoy laying on a warm rock in the sun for extended periods. He looked over at the stripey cliff face, wondering how many lizards were skittering around on there. For the first time, he noticed all the people gathered around the base of it, laying their hands on the dark crystals randomly embedded in the surface. "What's up with that?" he asked, pointing.

"Oh, that's where people send their energy and prayers up to the Midnight Sun." Upon seeing Castys's blank expression, Neteri continued. "That big symbol in the cliff. It lights up at night thanks to people's energy. It's believed that prayers said while touching one of the stones are sent up to the sun. Do you want to try it?"

Castys had never been the spiritual type, but he was curious about the wall itself, so he could think some thoughts to the ball in sky while he was at it. "Sure, I guess."

The cliff was sandstone, upon closer inspection, which wasn't shocking, but the crystals in the surface…he wasn't sure what exactly they were. Definitely added by people, at the very least, and probably fire element minerals since they made shit glow. Which was why he was here.

Castys put his hand on one of the crystals, thinking. This was basically like making a wish, right? He was apparently too much of a little bitch to run, so wishing for freedom was stupid. Maybe he should wish for some fucking direction on…on anything. Or he could wish to be a lizard who just got to scuttle around and eat bugs and not be expected to do anything. Or he could wish for a million more candy sticks. Or he could wish for something that was remotely realistic, just in case it might come true.

Dear the sun, please make it so I don't have to wear this stupid collar for the rest of my life. It's uncomfortable. Also I want to go on a boat at least once. Sincirely, Castys.

Good enough. He stepped back, a tiny bit woozy from leaving his hand on the crystal for too long. Neteri had already finished, so with that done, they headed…back towards the palace. It was getting sort of late, and he'd known they wouldn't stay out all day, but…

"Did you have a good day, Castys? Have enough good food?" Neteri gave his hand a squeeze.

"Yeah. I'm very full and in a little bit of pain but it was worth it." Manners might be a good idea since Neteri cut him open all the time. "Thanks for the food and stuff."

"Of course! I hope this makes it up to you after that whole mess with your arm."

"Nah, that'll take at least a hundred more candy sticks."

Neteri laughed. "I'll keep that in mind. Now I know where to buy them."

"I expect regular deliveries. No excuses." Maybe he'd be a better test subject if he got little treats more often. He could certainly be persuaded.

"Understood. I won't let you down." Neteri opened the door to the palace, gesturing for him to go first.

After taking one last glance at the city behind him, Castys turned and walked inside, the collar around his neck shifting as he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

The day outside was over, and his chance to escape was gone.

He wished he was a little more upset by that, but as Neteri led him back to his cell, all he felt was relief.

AU taglist: @vampiresprite @whump-in-the-closet

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen​​ @galaxywhump

@starnight-whump​ @his-unspoken-words​ @misspelledwitch​ @suspicious-whumping-egg​ @pumpkin-spice-whump 

@painsandconfusion @i-can-even-burn-salad @befuddled-calico-whump​ @whumpinggrounds​ @whump-queen

@whumpedydump

[widowshill]

not to be like "angelique did nothing wrong" but i think angelique has a hell of a lot more compelling motivations for her actions than barnabas ever did.

[usaigi]

Hey I don't know who needs to hear this but it's not cool to invalidate POC headcanon made by POC by using entomology. We shouldn't need to "prove" or justify our headcanon. If you disagree, keep it to yourself.

Whenever I say that Petra is Hawaiian/Polynesian coded, I always get someone who's like "But Brigid is an Irish word" or "But her last name is Macneary and that's Scottish" Literally shut up, I do not care.

Or when I say Sylvain being Latino is cool and people are like "but Jose is the French pronunciation" shut up!!!!

White people get everything. If you don't like me HCing a dude as POC go away. It's not for you! It's for me >:(