#it switched to first person for a bit which nothing else in the game had done at that point and juggles the enemy in the air

[fangsandfeels]

The vagueness of Astarion sleeping mechanics drives me mad sometimes

So, the game says that elves don't sleep - to the point where it's ironically stated that the only way for them to experience sleeping is to either drink a potion of Angelic Slumber or "get hit really hard with a chair".

Instead, they enter a semi-aware meditative state (Revery) where they experience memories from their past lives (usually most positive and emotional parts). Or they just sorting through their current memories.

Now, we've seen Astarion meditating if his way of lying on a bedroll is anything to go by. He is also immune to sleeping spells. We could also see him sleeping (in a Durge run). I know that devs technically recycle the same sleeping pose for all romanced companions, but still. Also, Astarion has nightmares, which is not typical for elves.

Of course, when I was going through the lore, I scratched the surface, but from what I understood, Revery is supposed to be a controlled state, and nightmares aren't exactly controlled.

But, I've found a very interesting bit that (so far) is still considered part of the official canon:

Elves can sleep and dream just like any human, but almost all surface elves avoid doing so. Dreams, as humans know them, are strange and confusing to elves. Unlike the actual memories of one’s primal soul, present life, or past lives, dreams are uncontrolled products of the subconscious, and perhaps the subconscious minds of those past lives or primal souls as well. An elf who dreams must always wonder whose mind these thoughts first arose from, and why. Priests of Sehanine Moonbow are an exception: they sleep and dream to receive signs from their god, and elves consult such priests to interpret their own dreams."

From: Mordenkainrn's Tome Of Foes, Chapter 2: Elves

And not only does this little bit explain a lot, but it also provides some food for your fic writing purposes.

Now, I'm entering the headcanon territory, so be warned.

Astarion's access to Revery got horribly fucked up after he had been Turned. Not only does he no longer have access to his previous lives since he is technically dead and plucked from the cycle, but he also can't even have his happy or good memories before he became a spawn. Even if they are still there, somewhere in the memory palace, getting to them requires going through the catalog of traumatic and painful memories he acquired after being enslaved by Cazador. It's like running through a burning house trying to rescue your family photo - and the hall gets longer each time. So, entering a trance means confronting the worst memories of his life over and over because there is nothing else there.

Due to this Astarion may resort to sleeping, which elves don't usually do. Elves don't like dreams because dreams are subconscious, and they can't be controlled, which scares them. For Astarion, however, it means there is a chance of him subconsciously dreaming of something nice or just being blissfully empty. However, it doesn't safeguard him from nightmares which (because they are the product of his unconsciousness) get even more twisted than simple memories.

Additionally, there can be a possibility that after becoming a spawn he got cut off from meditation and trances completely, relying on sleeping only: at least, the cut spawn epilogue by Withers mentions how while Astarion needs to sleep again, he doesn't sleep alone. While we don't know what that means exactly (and whether it will ever be implemented in the game), I assume that the tadpole gave him the ability to meditate back, but it was a small improvement because his memory headspace no longer holds happy memories capable of offering solace or refuge.

So, my personal headcanon is that he switches between meditating and sleeping depending on how aware he needs to be, and whatever option feels less torturous at the moment.

For instance, in his Origin run, when he remembers the moment of Cazador carving scars into him, he is in a trance. Which is why the memory is so horribly vivid, as if he is reliving it anew.

However, when he has a nightmare where Cazador finds him, he is sleeping and experiencing a memory affected by his subconsciousness. Which is why he jolts himself awake and desperate to know the limits of his freedom.

So, yes, the man literally can't catch a break.

On a happier note (and for your hurt/comfort fanfiction purposes), once Astarion starts traveling with Tav and the group, his memory bank gets updated with memories that are actually fun and nice, so he has something to linger upon when he is meditating. Sleeping gradually becomes a bit more pleasant experience because his subconsciousness got more material to work with, so the quality of his non-controlled dreams has to gradually improve.

[jnkgrnde]

— confessions, confessions, clarisse la rue, pjo

summary — in which, ever since you’ve arrived at camp, clarisse has seen you as her number one enemy. who would’ve known she’d make it so much more complicated than what it is.

pairings — clarisse la rue x black!fem!reader (daughter of athena)

content included — clarisse being flirty, clarisse using nicknames, eventual making out, uhh thats ab it

gods, you hated her.

her and her gorgeous face and pretty smile and soft hair. you hated her. hated her beautiful laugh and fierce eyes and her winning attitude.

and she hated you just as much.

you and your pretty laugh and your soft skin and the way you always have a plan. how you managed to up her whenever she had something smart to say.

she hated it.

it was capture the flag day. this year, chiron had switched some people from different teams; you had moved to the red team. clarisse’s team. you dragged your feet over to the team as she was explaining the plan.

“finally decided to join us, angel?” she used the nickname mockingly, but it still made your heart speed up a bit. you rolled your eyes, walking over and standing in the circle. clarisse let her eyes linger on you before continuing to talk.

she finished explaining the plan, and surprisingly enough, you were going to be with her a majority of the time. the conch sounded, signaling the start of the game.

“y/n, c’mere.” you jogged over to her. “is there a reason why we’re not with everyone else?” she just smirked. “just need you to keep guard, princess.” you scoffed at this. “so i couldn’t have had a better job?”

“what, you don’t like being around me?” she mocked. “you always have something to say, la rue. why would i?” truth be told, you did like being around her. not that you’d ever admit it, but she gave you a fuzzy feeling inside. “could’ve helped you, y’know, win the game if you’d just put me near the flag.” you tried to reason.

“hm, no. think you’d be better guarding with me.” clarisse teased. “well you know you’re capable by yourself, so-“ clarisse placed her hand over your mouth to shush you, putting her finger to her lips. she squatted behind some bushes, you following her.

there went some members of the blue team, luke nowhere to be seen. you knew he usually went with chris to play offense for the team. you and clarisse watched the team, studying their positions. “you got a magic weapon, right? the one that makes you invisible?” she asked you. “‘course i do.” “need you to use that. make a distraction.” you brought out your enchanted dagger, willing it to make you invisible.

you snuck around, stepping on some branches to try and get their attention. heads snapped towards your direction. “who’s there?” clarisse stepped around slowly, watching them. she let out a battle cry, going in to fight them. it was 3 against 1, but for clarisse it was nothing.

while she was dealing with them, you snuck around to get the flag. once you got it, you ran as fast as you could back to base. “HEY!” you heard yelling, but you kept running. clarisse watched you with a smile before realizing what she was doing and screwed her face back up.

before one of the campers could run after you, she tackled them to the ground. the others ran after you while clarisse screamed at you to run.

you ran as fast as your legs could carry you, jumping over tree branches and stumps. you could hear the running behind you, so you came up with a plan last second. you turned a random way, near some thick bushes before continuing to run. you didn’t think about anything but making it back to your post.

finally, the sight of your teams area came into view. the first person who spotted you was one of clarisse’s brothers. “she’s got the flag!” he yelled out. you reached the rock, short of breath, chest hurting, but you made it.

the conch blew, signaling that the game was over, and your team erupted into cheer. clarisse came out of the woods, a grin on her face. she cheered with her teammates before coming over to you. “good job, princess.”

your face burned from the nickname. you mumbled out a thank you while clarisse snickered beside you.

she was having fun with this.

“spar with me.”

“what?”

clarisse came over to where you were sitting in the dining pavilion, reading a book. “you heard me. i need a sparring partner.” she told you. “why me?” “so i can feel the glory of beating you, pretty girl.”

gods, when was she going to stop with these nicknames?

you raised an eyebrow. “and you’re sure none of your other siblings wanted to spar?” clarisse just shrugged. “don’t know. didn’t care to ask them. just spar with me.” you mulled over your options before sighing dramatically.

“fine. just go easy, la rue.” “can’t promise that, angel.” she grinned.

coming to terms with the fact you probably liked clarisse la rue out of all people was something you absolutely refused to do. not only was she cocky, but she had this overwhelming urge to want to beat you and everyone else in everything just because she can.

but another part of you couldn’t help but acknowledge how caring she could be towards specific people. like her younger siblings, who she was around quite often to help them train and get better. how she cared for her siblings in general, how she always checked up on her friends. it made your heart yearn for her in ways you didn’t expect.

what also made you yearn for her was the nicknames and the way she looked at you, but that’s a story for a different time.

you two made it to the sparring range. “we can use two weapons right? or are you strict about sparring too?” you asked her. “and what’s that supposed to mean?” she questioned. you shrugged. “just figured since you’re the daughter of the war god and all, you’d wanna have a specific way.”

clarisse rolled her eyes and couldn’t help but chuckle at the statement. that’s what she liked about you — you always had something to say, a comeback for her every time she got something smart out. it’s also why she ‘hated’ you so much, because you always had to one-up her.

“no specific way, princess. just try to pin me to the ground.” she told you. you hummed, pulling your dagger from your belt loop. you two decided to not go with any armor, seeing as this was just a quick match. “you ready, la rue, or do you still wanna spend time with your spear?” you mocked. “don’t bite off more than you can chew, pretty girl.”

you walked around eachother in circles for a few seconds before you willed your dagger to make you disappear. clarisse knew that was going to happen, though. she was calculated like that. what you didn’t know was that she was very attentive, which meant she could see and almost hear the dirt as you moved.

“not good at sneaking around over here, pretty girl.” she murmured. she sped up her movements before attempting to tackle you to the ground. she did tackle you, but you put up a fight. this went on until you finally managed to pin her to the ground. you became visible, a triumphant grin on your face.

“got you, la rue.” you pointed out, but she didn’t say anything back. in fact, her face was starting to turn a shade of red. she looked at you with uncertainty, like she was restraining herself from doing something. you realized the position you were in, and you tried getting up as you mumbled out a sorry, but clarisse planted one hand on your waist.

“where are you going, smart girl?” she asked. you looked into her eyes, your heart feeling like it was about to beat out of your chest. you swallowed harshly. her hand crept up to your shirt, gripping the cloth. she slowly brought you down to her. “what are you doing, la rue?”

clarisse ignored you, instead choosing to bring you down to her lips. it was shocking, slow at first, until it turned frantic between the both of you. unsaid confessions and yearning were expressed through your lips. you both came up for air when it became too much. she let out a breathy laugh while you started to smile.

“how long have you been wanting to do that, la rue?”

[copper-16]

did she feel better than me?

A continuation/parallel of girlgenius1111's work titled "do you want my attention?"

Mapi makes the decision to rile Ingrid up with the help of Alexia's girlfriend. And she gets exactly what she wants...in due time.

(a/n: My brain simply couldn’t get out of its head what Mapi and Ingrid did after Alexia and r left the club, so I reached out to girlgenius1111 and got permission to write about the same story but from Ingrid and Mapi’s perspective! Please, please go read their fic first mostly because it is phenomenal and also a little bit because this will make more sense if you have read that first - I have it linked at the bottom of this!

This is literally eight thousand words of sex. I'm normally a pretty vanilla person (nothing wrong with that yk just personal preference!) so this isn’t the spiciest or craziest thing in the world by any means, but it's still spice and not much else.

Also I couldn't make up my mind about who would be more possessive over who so this is giving major switch energy...I plead the fifth I'm indecisive!)

The thing was that the last few weeks had been hectic, to say the least. The schedule for Barcelona was packed with league matches combined with Champions League games to be played, and then for Ingrid, national team camp only added to that already frantic schedule. 

But Mapi was still not playing for her national team, which meant that she had been left with two weeks to herself before Ingrid had gotten home that Sunday, just a few nights ago. 

Two weeks to miss Ingrid. 

Two weeks to miss…certain things about her. Two weeks of waking up alone and going to bed by herself, left with far too much time to imagine exactly all the ways she wanted the Norwegian. 

Mapi wasn’t ashamed to admit that she was getting a little bit desperate. It had been weeks since they had done anything really, and this past week she could feel herself getting wet just when the Norwegian looked at her a little hard while they were with the team. 

The week leading up to their Friday game was a lot, with a Champions League game on Tuesday and added practices considering that they had the upcoming weekend off. Ingrid had arrived back from Oslo late on Sunday night, and with the chaos of the schedule, they hadn’t had time to do anything other than a hot makeout session before leaving for training one morning, which had left Mapi more wrecked and wet than she cared to admit. 

Between herself and the other girls on the team, they managed to wear Alexia and the captains down to the point where they all agreed to go out to the club after the Friday game. It was a surprising move from the Barcelona captain, but when she takes one look at her girlfriend’s outfit, at the way her eyes paused at the lace covered chest, at the way it pulled across taut and supple skin, all of the girls can’t help but smirk in understanding at one another. 

Mapi had dressed the part as well, knowing exactly what she wanted to come out of this night. She had days, weeks really, to come up with the perfect plan, and she wasn’t going to let this night go to waste without completing it. She had on black leather pants that she knew made her ass look good, and a maroon corset top cinched over her chest. 

Ingrid was wearing a sapphire colored crop top coupled with a pair of black jeans that Mapi couldn’t stop staring at as they walked into the club. But she needed to focus, she had a plan to complete and it wasn’t Ingrid who needed to agree to it in order for it to work. No sooner had they made it through the door than the defender was pulling their teammate toward the bar, Ingrid and Alexia watching their respective girlfriends go with raised eyebrows, already slightly suspicious. 

But the two taller women say nothing, getting a table before they all order their drinks. Ingrid can’t help but look surprised when Alexia orders a gin and tonic, after the Norwegian had rattled off her request for a negroni. 

“Drinking tonight, Ale?” The dark haired midfielder asked, clearly more than a little amused. But Alexia just scowled, her gaze not meeting Ingrid’s, but rather still trained toward the bar, where Mapi and her girlfriend were standing, clearly in conversation. 

“I feel like the night calls for it,” Alexia murmured carefully as the two Barcelona players turn back toward the table where their partners are, both of their girlfriends greeting them warmly. 

The two women stand at the table for maybe thirty seconds before they are headed toward the dance floor, a pair of hazel and green eyes tracking their every move. Caro and Patri could only watch in complete amusement as Alexia and Ingrid don’t even bother to try conversing anymore, simply too enamored with their respective girlfriend to care about trying to seem civilized. None of the women at the table are dancers per say, but the two midfielders are staring at their girlfriends like they might be considering it, given how aggressively their eyes are tracking the women.   

Alexia, surprisingly, seemed to have less restraint than Ingrid for once, the Spaniards hand gripping the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles were beginning to turn white. When her girlfriend turned toward her, her ass pressed back into Mapi, the captain shakes her head slightly, but she only receives a nod that looks suspiciously like a smile in response. 

Ingrid was slightly more composed than her fellow midfielder, but it still wasn’t hard to spot the fact that she was staring at Mapi, her gaze intent. The club was busy, and it was a gay club, so to say that the two dancers had eyes on them would have been an understatement, but they only had eyes for their respective partner, too busy trying to make them jealous to notice the abundance of women watching them. 

It’s when Mapi’s hand reaches around to practically palm at her teammate's chest as she turns her head into her hair to speak to her in such an intimate way that Alexia finally snaps, Ingrid right along with her. In reality, the top of her thumb only made it far enough up to graze at the underside of her chest, but that feels like semantics to the Barcelona midfielders right now. 

“Come to dance?” Alexia is asked by her girlfriend as she presses into their space, and the blonde looks nearly murderous. Ingrid isn’t really paying attention to them though, far too focused on letting her eyes rove up and down Maria, who is pointedly choosing not to look at her in favor of the discussion, or rather lack thereof, that is happening in front of them. 

“I think we’ve had enough dancing,” the Spaniard grits out as she pulls her girlfriend flush with her side, not even bothering with a goodbye before the two are moving through the club, leaving the Spaniard and Norwegian alone. 

It’s only at this point that Mapi finally lets her eyes meet Ingrid, and she can’t help but bite her lip to force back a whimper at the look that Ingrid is giving her, at the intensity of it. She entirely misses the way that a triumphant smile is thrown back at her by her teammate, clearly thrilled that their plan has worked, in favor of holding Ingrid’s green eyes, which could only be described as smoldering. 

She was completely entranced, didn’t even care about the fact that everyone around them was dancing, can’t do anything but hold Ingrid’s gaze, can’t tear her eyes away from the green ones watching her so closely. 

It’s only when Ingrid looks away, clearing her throat lightly that Mapi feels herself suck in a breath, unaware that she had even been holding it to begin with. 

“Dance?” Ingrid asks lightly, her tone too innocent and unassuming given the circumstances. It honestly throws the defender for a loop, but she chooses to follow along. She expected for Ingrid to get possessive in the way that Alexia had, but it’s clear that the Norwegian is playing a bit longer of a game then the blonde captain had been able to manage. 

“Sure,” Mapi acquiesces, and Ingrid turns on a dime, pressing her entire body back into the Spaniard, who grips it with ease. They’ve been together for long enough to know each other's bodies well, perhaps even better than their own. 

And still, Ingrid pressed against her feels like the most natural thing in the world for the brunette. Dancing to make their respective girlfriends jealous was fine if not a bit awkward, tense and tight, the knowledge that neither of them really wanted to be doing it other than to make someone jealous, not allowing them to really enjoy it. 

But it isn’t like that with the Norwegian, quite the opposite in fact. Her hips move in time with Mapi, her back completely flush with the Spaniard’s front. The brunette’s hands reach around to grasp at Ingrid’s hips, pulling her impossibly closer as she ground into the dark haired woman, trying not to let out a whimper when the Norwegian arched her back. 

They’ve been dancing together for a few minutes when Ingrid finally places one of her hands over Mapi’s, pulling it up and over her stomach and chest, reminiscent of something that the Spaniard did just a few minutes ago with another woman. 

Mapi swallowed as Ingrid brought her hand up high and higher, until it was fully on top of her right breast, and she squeezed Mapi’s hand lightly, the defender's hand pressed under the midfielders meaning that she ended up gently kneading the Norwegian’s chest at the action. The Spaniard lets out a harsh breath at the feeling, at the action itself but also the publicity of it. 

Ingrid loved her girlfriend very much, but she admittedly was no longer huge on such sexual public displays. And it had been months since she was this forward in public, and it was turning Mapi on so much that it was practically painful. She remembered the early days of their relationship, when she had been so attracted and desperate for the defender that they couldn’t even make it home, but rather had to fuck in the club bathroom, the Norwegian’s hand clamped over her mouth to keep her from getting them caught.

Alexia’s jealousy might have burned hot and bright, but Ingrid’s simmered. It continued even when Mapi’s hands were all over her body in wildly inappropriate ways, low and threatening, more contained but no less deadly when it finally did strike. 

Ingrid threw her head back on Mapi’s shoulder, her back once again arching as she tilted her head toward the Spaniard, her nose brushing against the defender's neck before she spoke. Her voice was thick and low, and Mapi felt her legs involuntarily clench together at the feeling. But the words out of her mouth are ones that the brunette wasn’t expecting, and it causes her to do a bit of a double take. 

“Did she feel better than me?” Ingrid husks, and Mapi stills against her, her expression jumping in surprise. It seemed like an outrageous question, with the simplest of answers. 

Never.

“What?” She asks, the surprise evident in her tone. It’s at this that Ingrid pulls away entirely, spinning around until her front is pressed into Mapi’s, their chests pressed together as she looks at the defender, their faces barely inches apart. It’s then that the Spaniard sees the jealousy, painted into the lines of her girlfriend's face. 

“I said. Did. She. Feel. Better. Than. Me?” Ingrid spits out, each individual word holding a note of malice, and Mapi’s eyes narrow as she presses further into Ingrid, their lips brushing together, not caring who saw them. 

“No.” Mapi answers plainly, because it’s an answer that doesn’t need to be undressed to be completely true. 

“Prove it,” Ingrid snaps in response, and one of Mapi’s eyebrows lifts in surprise at her tone, but she pulls back slightly before nodding, grabbing the Norwegian’s hand and intending to lead them toward the exit, when the midfielder changes their direction, headed toward the bathrooms instead. 

“Not there. Here. Right now,” Ingrid insists, and Mapi genuinely can’t believe that she’s hearing these words come out of her girlfriend's mouth, but she also doesn’t complain in the slightest. If anything, it’s more of a relief to know that the Norwegian still wants her this much, in this way. Not that Mapi doubted that very often, but occasionally when times like these last few weeks occurred, it was an inevitability. 

Ingrid and Mapi had been together for nearly two years now, and the Spaniard sometimes wondered if she would ever grow tired of this, if their sex life would ever become boring. It was what had scared her about a long term relationship, but she found that the more that she grew to love Ingrid, the more she grew to enjoy and find the fun with experimenting in their relationship. She felt safe to let go, and not like she was contained in the ways she thought a relationship would bring. 

Two years later, and there’s nobody else Mapi would ever fuck in a club bathroom, on the side of the road, in a bed, against the kitchen counter, anywhere, than whereever she was with Ingrid. 

Ingrid leads them back toward the bathrooms of the club with little fanfare. There are separate rooms, two for the men and two for the women. The midfielder drags the two of them to the last one, all but shoving Mapi in the door and stepping in after her, clicking the lock shut before she’s on the Spaniard, pressing her back into the wall as their mouths finally meet. 

The kiss is hot and desperate and needy, Ingrid’s mouth hard against Mapi’s, swallowing the light moan that the Spaniard lets out at the feeling of Ingrid’s body pressed so close to hers. The Norwegian leans back just far enough to splay one of her hands on the defender's abdomen, her lips moving down toward Mapi’s neck. 

The brunette can’t help the whine that slips past her lips when Ingrid nips at her neck, and she can feel the way that the dark haired woman smiles against her skin as she soothes it with her tongue. Her mouth is insistent and unwavering in its path, kissing anywhere and everywhere as a litany of tiny breathy noises slips past the defenders lips. She moves up Mapi’s neck rapidly, before pulling back so that her mouth is right next to the Spaniard's ear. 

“You know how much I love to hear how much you want me, but you’re going to get us caught María,” Ingrid murmurs before she returns to Mapi’s neck, her movements now languid and relaxed, a sharp contrast to the mildly frantic nature of her kisses before she stopped. 

Mapi squirms uncomfortably, the ache between her legs growing hard to ignore. She can’t remember the last time she was this turned on, the last time she wanted Ingrid this badly. The brunette had a bit of a reputation for being rather voracious when it came to sex, and today was no different. 

But the Norwegian is merciful, if only for the fact that she is equally as desperate, her hand descending rapidly south, her nimble fingers popping the button of Mapi’s pants before she pulls the leather down with a sharp tug. The midfielder managed to get the material to Mapi’s mid thigh, and that's really all the space she needs in honesty. 

Ingrid cups the Spaniard over her underwear, letting out a harsh breath at how wet she found the fabric under her. Her expression told a different story, and when Mapi managed to work her eyes open she found a frown written across Ingrid’s face, one that made her pause, just slightly. 

She’s about to ask Ingrid what’s wrong when without any warning whatsoever the midfielder shoves the brunette’s underwear to the side, sinking two fingers into the wet heat she finds between Mapi’s thighs. 

The defender muffles her sharp cry with a hand to her mouth, her eyes slamming shut as stars practically erupt before her closed eyelids. Between the combination of dancing, the fact that it’s been weeks, and the stretch of two fingers right from the get go, Mapi is already painfully close. 

Ingrid moves her fingers achingly slowly, and Mapi lets a little mewl past her fingers that has the Norwegian looking up at her sharply, clearly unimpressed. She clamps her hand over her mouth once more, her hips rutting down, chasing the light friction she’s being given. 

It doesn’t really matter though. She’s so turned on that if Ingrid asked her to come, she probably would. It’s not going to take much. 

Mapi knows it. 

Ingrid knows it. 

But the midfielder is still slightly desperate to drag this on despite the circumstances, so she continues with her bitterly slow pace as she looks Mapi in the eyes, her face tilted as she asks her the question. 

“Would her fingers have felt better? Is it her who you imagine when I’m inside of you?” Ingrid taunts, the anger clear in her tone. 

Mapi was hers, and hers alone. 

She didn’t share. 

“No, god no,” Mapi gasps out as Ingrid picks up her pace, faster and faster and faster until the Spaniard is gripping at her shoulders tightly, chasing the pleasure to the ends of the earth. 

“Who is it you want then?” Ingrid husks, and the sound of her voice combined with the relentless pace is the thing that sends Mapi over the edge out of nowhere, a loud moan spilling out of her mouth as the coil within her snaps. 

“You!” The defender moans out as her back arches into Ingrid, making a complete mess of her underwear as her body shakes and Ingrid grips her tightly. The Norwegian had to admit that she had been expecting the orgasm, but not for it to happen so quickly or quite so pornographically in nature, but she isn’t complaining. She simply holds her girlfriend as she comes down from her high, knowing what her next move is but also not wanting to be completely inconsiderate. 

It’s only when Mapi’s body fully relaxes back into the wall that Ingrid slips out of her, walking over to the paper towel holder and cleaning her fingers before she moves toward the door. 

“Car. Now.” Ingrid doesn’t even bother with full sentences, instead making her intention perfectly clear with two singular words. The Spaniard is quick to pull her pants up and button them, following the Norwegian out of the bathroom stall and to the car, where Ingrid slipped into the driver's seat. She had only had a few sips of her negroni, and didn’t even feel tipsy beyond the slight headiness of getting Maria off. 

Speaking of, the defender had sat down in the car and barely closed her door before Ingrid was pulling away from the curb. Once they had gotten onto the road, the midfielder slid her right hand over, placing it as far up as she possibly could on Mapi’s thigh. The dark haired woman shows no evidence of being affected, compared to the brunette, who whimpers slightly as she shifts in her seat, moving toward Ingrid imperceptibly. 

Despite the fact that she’s already had an orgasm, Mapi still feels desperate. She was hoping that coming would help to satiate her, but it seems to have only done the opposite. She needs Ingrid twice as much as she did at the club, and she’s fighting to sit still in her seat and not suggest they pull over for a repeat of the club, but on the side of the road. 

And Ingrid is absolutely no help. Mapi isn’t sure if her desperation is all that transparent or if Ingrid is egging her on, but halfway through the drive she begins to rub tiny circles into the skin of Mapi’s inner thigh. It’s over the leather of her pants, but it’s still enough for the Spaniard to bite her lip to keep from letting out a grunt of frustration. 

Mapi is so desperate in fact, that when Ingrid finally pulls the car up to their parking spot, she doesn’t even bother with allowing the Norwegian to get out of the car. She simply climbs over the center console, pressing down to shift Ingrid’s seat all the way back before she lands squarely in her lap. It’s a tight fit, but she honestly doesn’t give a flying fuck. 

The defender wastes absolutely no time, gripping Ingrid’s face in her hands as she smashes their lips together in a searing kiss. Ingrid’s hands fly up to hold the Spaniard’s side, keeping her body flush with the Norwegian in the cramped car.

But Mapi doesn’t care, she simply presses her lips to Ingrid’s again and again and again, teeth clashing and thirst unquenchable as she slips her tongue into the midfielders mouth. She can’t help the grunt that shoves itself out when Ingrid slides her hands lower, palming at Mapi’s ass over the leather of her pants. The defender grinds down into Ingrid, even with how cramped her legs are, chasing any, any kind of friction. 

Ingrid somehow manages to work one of her knees toward Mapi, so when the Spaniard grinds down again she is hit with an actual surface to grind against, and she tips her head back in an unabashed moan. 

“Come on María, come for me,” Ingrid encourages, not expecting for much to happen from it. They’ve hardly done anything, and it’s nothing but a little bit of dirty grinding. They haven’t even lost any of their clothes yet. 

But it only takes a few desperate movements from the brunette, directed in pace by Ingrid’s hands which are still on her ass, for Mapi’s head to fall back once more, her mouth opening in a silent cry as she crashes over the edge, Ingrid staring at her with wide eyes. It wasn’t a big orgasm, and it wasn’t really satisfying in the way that the defender desperately needed, but it was still an orgasm nonetheless. 

The Norwegian couldn’t help but be surprised. Between the orgasm in the club and now one here in the car, she was starting to understand perhaps why Mapi had done the things in the club that she had. It didn’t excuse them, but she understood it now, at least. 

And if she really was this desperate, then Ingrid was determined to give her exactly what she needed. Not without a little bit of teasing, however. 

Ingrid leans over to pop her car door open, taking a moment to look at the foggy windows of her car before Mapi was stepping off of her and out toward their apartment, Ingrid following her quickly. 

Mapi kept her head angled away from Ingrid, more than a little embarrassed about her now two orgasms. She knew she seemed desperate, but she really wished that she had more resolve than this. She wasn’t sure what Ingrid was thinking after that last orgasm, and her cheeks remained flush with embarrassment as they came to their front door. The Norwegian unlocked it for them before she held the door for her girlfriend, who still refused to meet her eyes. 

Mapi tried to move past the entryway, but Ingrid wouldn’t let her. The midfielder grasped the defender's wrist, forcing her to turn around to face her. 

“María?” Ingrid asked lightly, her tone a complete contrast to the entire night thus far. Now that the defender won’t even meet her eyeline, she needs to understand what is actually going on here. “What’s going on?” 

Mapi shrugs, pulling her arm back to herself before she offers a half assed answer. 

“I don’t know. It’s been awhile,” she commented off handedly, and Ingrid felt understanding begin to wash over her as she took Maria in. The flush of her cheeks, the way she was shifting from foot to foot, how she refused to meet the midfielder’s eyes after the orgasm in the car. 

“Are you a little needy, corazón?” Ingrid asked, her voice low and thick, and Mapi looked up to find that the same fire that burned deep within her was mirrored back at her in the Norwegian’s eyes. 

The shame she had felt walking back from the car melted away as she nodded, swallowing roughly. Ingrid had this uncanny ability to make her feel incredibly seen, even in instances like this, right now. 

“Yes. For you, and only you,” Mapi adds the last sentence at the last second, and just as she hoped that it would, Ingrid’s face twisted into a satisfied smirk as she moved toward the Spaniard. The midfielder decides in that moment to take a bit of a different approach than what she had originally planned on. Because as much as Mapi had missed Ingrid, the Norwegian had missed the Spaniard just as much. Getting herself off in an empty hotel room devoid of the defender was no match to the real thing standing here in front of her. To the muscled and tattooed form she knew was hiding under all of that clothing, the soft peaks accompanied by taut and muscled valleys of her tan, tattooed skin. 

So she decides to go about this in a way that will satisfy both of them, eventually . 

“There’s other ways to get my attention than to put your hands all over another woman, you know that María?” Ingrid muses, her tone unserious but her words far more goading than Mapi had expected, and the brunette rushes to explain herself. 

“I didn’t–” Mapi starts, only for Ingrid to press her back into the wall, her face inches from the defenders, once again. Her words are low and dripping with sex appeal, and if Mapi’s underwear weren’t already completely ruined it would be now. 

“If you need me to fuck you, you tell me. Because you’re mine, and I don’t share with anyone, not our teammates, not the needy women at the club who eyefuck you, nobody.” Ingrid presses two of her fingers into the entrance of Mapi’s mouth, the Spaniards jaw slackening to allow for her to take the middle and ring finger of the midfielder into her mouth. Ingrid doesn't need to tell her for Mapi to know that she is supposed to suck, and that’s exactly what she does, her eyes never leaving Ingrid’s as she rolls her tongue over and over again. 

Ingrid removes her fingers from Mapi’s mouth before she quickly steps out of her jeans, shucking off her pants and underwear before she slips her top off, and Mapi is rewarded with the sight of her bare chest. 

Mapi follows suit, tugging her leather pants down before she undoes the tie of her corset top, tearing it off her skin, not caring if she ripped the stitching. She reaches back to unclip her bra, discarding it on the ground with little care as she returns to look at Ingrid. 

But what she finds surprises her, because out of all the options she would have counted on, to look back and find her girlfriend touching herself was not one that Mapi was prepared for. Ingrid is pressed up against the opposite wall, her hand moving over her clit in small, tight circles as she breathes harshly, and it fills Mapi with a flare of jealousy, one that Ingrid immediately clocks, a smirk on her face before she opens her mouth to let out a breathy moan. 

“Oh what? You want to help get me off, not her?” Ingrid asks lightly, her hips canting down slightly as her fingers speed up, and Mapi practically growls at the implication, her hands tightening into a fist. But Ingrid isn’t done yet, instead continuing to provoke her girlfriend, obsessed with the way that Maria is looking at her, all protective and filled with want. 

“We could always call Alexia. I’m sure she would have no problem fucking me into next Tuesday if I asked,” Ingrid hums lightly, and the Spaniard’s lips pulled back in a snarl at the thought, suddenly feeling even more territorial. It’s that comment that finally snaps her restraint, and she charges across the hallway, shoving Ingrid’s fingers away from herself so that she can replace them with her own. The thought of Alexia having Ingrid like this, of anyone but her having Ingrid like this is enough to make her shudder with poorly concealed jealousy.  

The Spaniard coats her fingers in the copious wetness that was accumulating between Ingrid’s legs before she slipped a finger into the midfielder, who let out a ragged sigh at the feeling. Her head thumped back against the wall as Mapi attached her lips to the sensitive skin of Ingrid’s neck. She works her lips and tongue down the column of her throat, stopping to suck harshly at her pulse point as the Norwegian lets out another breathy groan, opening her eyes to find Mapi looking at her with blown pupils and hooded eyes. 

It’s all the encouragement needed for the dark haired woman to press herself further into Mapi, slipping her own hand in between their bodies to curl into the defender as well. 

Mapi moans, not having expected Ingrid to do it, but she squirms and presses closer to the Norwegian at the feeling as she doubles down, increasing her pace, desperate to get Ingrid over the edge. 

Desperate for Ingrid to only want her, and her alone. 

Ingrid curls her fingers within Mapi, and the brunette's pace stutters as she lets out a keening whine, and Ingrid smirks around a groan that she lets out, looking far too self satisfied. 

But Mapi’s face is still set in what can only be described as jealousy, and she increases her pace as Ingrid does as well. 

Ingrid is closer than Mapi, but she shakes her head, clamping down on the brunette's fingers, forcing her to slow her pace. 

“Together,” Ingrid insists, grits out really as she fights her own impending orgasm, and Mapi watches her for a second before she nods, focusing on her own pleasure for a moment as Ingrid’s fingers curl tighter into her. Mapi grips the Norwegian’s shoulder with her free hand, nearly sobbing in relief at the feeling of Ingrid so deeply inside of her, and just when she’s on the crest does she nod fervently. Ingrid relaxes herself, allowing for Mapi to pick up her pace once more. 

Their front hallway is filled with the sound of choked sobs and low moans as the two women fall over the precipice, Mapi first and then Ingrid right after her, holding tightly to one another as their bodies shake and work through their respective orgasm. 

Ingrid is the first of the two of them to fully come back to herself, but she allows for Mapi to remain tightly wound to her as the Spaniard shudders through her orgasm, letting out a sigh of relief as she lets out a final shake. 

The Norwegian is looking at her with quirked lips, and Mapi looks slightly hazy, having finally, finally having gotten some of the relief that she had been craving so acutely. 

Without words, the midfielder steps back into her space, pressing her lips to the corner of Mapi’s mouth for a moment before the Spaniard turns into her, kissing her properly. 

Ingrid grips Mapi’s hand, bringing it forward to press it to her stomach before she slid it up, over her chest. Mapi took the hint easily, kneading at Ingrid’s breasts as the Norwegian whimpered slightly, a smirk still on her lips. 

“And to think,” Ingrid began, her lips just barely ghosting over Mapi’s, they were so close together. 

“It could be Alexia doing this,” the midfielder mused, and it’s enough to make Mapi’s whole face darken as she pulls back sharply.

“No.” Mapi answers simply, trying to sound tough, but it comes out rather breathy and needy. 

“No? And why is that?” Ingrid asks, and Mapi is happy to supply the answer. 

“You’re mine,” Mapi answers simply, and Ingrid grins devilishly before she pushes the Spaniard back slightly, offering her a wink before she begins to head to the bedroom. 

Ingrid had the defender right where she wanted her, and she wasn’t about to let that go to waste. When Mapi slips in the door just a second after her, she’s greeted with the sight of Ingrid bent over, her perfect ass on display as she looks through their toy drawer. 

Mapi was honestly expecting Ingrid to grab something to use on her, given the possessive nature of the Norwegian earlier in the night, but what she forgot to factor in was that perhaps Ingrid was just as desperate for some relief as she was. 

So maybe Mapi really can’t be all that surprised when Ingrid tosses her the strap, before fishing out the toy she wants to use. It’s a green one, long and thin, and a personal favorite of the midfielder. The Norwegian watches with hungry eyes as Mapi attaches the toy to the strap before stepping into the harness, taking care to cinch it up all without her gaze ever leaving Ingrids. 

When Mapi is finally getting the last few straps adjusted, Ingrid points toward the bed wordlessly, and despite the eyebrow raise she receives, the Spaniard is quick to obey, laying down on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows to watch Ingrid. 

The dark haired woman walks toward the bed slowly, climbing on top of Mapi and settling on her lap, her core connecting with the toy that is laying dormant on the defender's stomach. 

Ingrid leans down, attaching her lips to Mapi’s chest, swirling her nipple around with her tongue and laving it with attention before she switches to her other breast. Mapi laid back on the bed at the sensation, her chest arching up into the Norwegian’s mouth as one of her hands came to tangle in Ingrid’s dark, thick hair. The brunette doesn’t direct her exactly, but when she pulls lightly on Ingrid’s hair she is rewarded with a moan that is pressed into her skin. 

Ingrid kisses up between the valley of her breasts, over her collarbone and up over her neck, nipping at her neck tattoo before she moves to suck earnestly at Mapi’s throat. It takes all of her energy for the Spaniard to not writhe under the Norwegian’s careful ministrations, and Ingrid can’t help but smirk into her neck by how taut and tense Mapi’s body has become. 

The midfielder finally moves until her nose is just to the outer edge of Mapi’s ear, her head turned in toward the brunette. ‘

“Have you ever considered María,” Ingrid drawls, her voice low and positively dripping with sex, “that I might need you just as much as you need me?” 

The dark haired woman provides no further elaboration before she is off of Mapi, reaching for the bottle of lube and squirting some into her hand, gripping the dildo and coating it appropriately, making sure to press it back into the harness and toward Mapi’s body when she moves downward. It’s not a two way strap by any means, but the Spaniard can feel the pressure against her navel, and her hips buck up of their own volition at the slightest bit of friction. 

With a smile, Ingrid wipes her hand on a clean towel they keep in their toy drawer before she slips back onto Mapi’s lap, her knees on either side of the Spaniard’s hips. She reaches down to grip the dildo, bringing it up so that she can sink onto it, very, very slowly. 

It’s not a thick dildo, but Ingrid is still tight and it shows. Mapi remains laying but she opens her eyes to watch the show, as Ingrid presses further and further down with each pass, giving herself time to adjust. 

When she finally does bottom out, she makes sure to move her hips in a circular motion, just like she knows that Mapi likes, just like she knows will drive the defender crazy. 

If Mapi can tease, so can Ingrid. 

And tease, she does.

The Norwegian is near pornographic in her display, moving up and down as her chest bounces, and she arches her back as a moan ripples out of her mouth. 

Her hands have come first to run through her hair, and when she looks down Mapi is looking at her in exactly the way the midfielder wants her to, like some sort of ethereal person. Ingrid, at least to herself, might be far from it, but she would never lie and say that Mapi looking at her this way didn’t turn her on. 

She can feel her wetness running down the inside of her thighs as she continues, picking up her pace as more groans and whines slip from her lips. She’s closer now, probably needs a little bit of stimulation on her clit to send her over the edge, but she wants to make it last a little bit longer, wants Mapi to look at her like this a little longer. 

When the defender reaches up to palm at her chest Ingrid is quick to stop her, grasping her wrist as her pace stutters, the midfielder sitting down and shifting her hips side to side in slow motions. 

“Uh-huh. Touching is only for Alexia, right? Just like you touched her?” Ingrid asks in a saccharinely sweet tone, and Mapi’s eyes widen in surprise as Ingrid lets go of her hand, reaching down to play with her own clit for a few seconds as she resumed her pace. It only took her a few more moments to crest over the edge, a broken cry leaving her lips as her body contracts, her chest pressing up as she slides the hand that had been on her clit up her body to palm at her own chest. 

Meanwhile, the Spaniard has been left absolutely fuming under Ingrid, and she doesn’t even allow the Norwegian to fully come down from her orgasm before she’s flipping the two of them, the dark haired woman landing squarely on her back with Mapi over her. 

The defender doesn’t even bother saying anything, she simply moves Ingrid’s legs to open her up before she begins to press into her, her eyes watching for any sense of true discomfort. 

They had a safe word, and they’ve used it before, but Mapi is always still conscious to check. She knows they push the boundaries of this sort of thing on occasion, but when she looks at Ingrid she finds nothing but acceptance looking back at her. 

The dark haired woman pants Mapi’s name as the brunette rolls her hips into the Norwegian’s over and over and over again, her pace quick and efficient. 

Ingrid is losing her grip on reality slightly, completely overcome with pleasure as she looks up at the defender. She’s still sensitive from her last orgasm, and the pleasure is nearly all consuming when Mapi gets this focused. The Spaniard is bracing herself on either side of Ingrid’s chest, her arms flexed as she presses down toward Ingrid again and again and again, and the Norwegian can’t find it within herself to be of any complaint. 

“You’re mine,” Mapi grunts out as her hips slap into Ingrid’s, and the Norwegian’s mouth opens in a deliciously unabashed moan as she nods insistently, too far gone to remember the little game they had been playing. 

“I’m yours María, all yours,” Ingrid gasps as Mapi slams into her, and the defender can’t help the groan she lets out at hearing Ingrid say that she was hers. Her hair is fanned out on the pillow, a dark contrast against the white bedsheets, and her cheeks are flushed as she bites her lip, her chest positively heaving, stuttering with pleasure. 

Mapi’s positive she’s never seen anything more gorgeous, and when Ingrid finally comes it’s in a silent cry, her abdominal muscles rippling as a guttural moan finally appears as she comes with a force. There are tears leaking out of her eyes as her body arches into the feeling, and Mapi is quick to pull out and work her middle finger and ring finger over Ingrid’s clit in tight circles, and just when Ingrid is sure that she can’t take anymore, the Spaniard slips her fingers into the midfielder. 

Ingrid’s mouth opens as her chest arches, but Mapi is relentless. 

The defender is completely insatiable, never wants to see anything but Ingrid come like this again and again. 

“María, María, I–” Ingrid tries, but hearing the Norwegian moan her name is doing nothing but making the Spaniard work harder, her two fingers curling into the midfielder as her thumb teases her clit over and over and over again. 

Ingrid comes without warning, a warm gush of liquid spilling over Mapi’s hand and out onto their bedsheets, as her body convulses, her lover's name slipping from her lips like a prayer as her third orgasm shudders through her. 

Mapi works her through it gently, far more smug with herself than she had been when she had come inside the house initially. The ache between her own thighs has grown entirely unbearable, but all she cares about is Ingrid as she settles next to the Norwegian, whose eyes are still screwed tightly shut, her chest working overtime to get air to her lungs. 

Aftershakes work their way through her body as Mapi places a hand delicately on her stomach, a soothing presence rather than an overly sexual one. It takes her a few minutes to come back to herself, but eventually the midfielders breath evened out, and she places her own hand over Mapi’s as she looks over at the Spaniard, who is propped up on one elbow looking at her. 

“Better?” Mapi asks softly, in reference to the thing Ingrid had last said before she had started fucking herself on the strap. Ingrid swallows thickly as she takes Mapi in, how thready and tight her body appears, the way her legs are crossed even as she lays in bed, all of the hallmark signs that her girlfriend needs to get off. 

Ingrid knew this when she got into a relationship with the Spaniard. Mapi’s sex drive was on another planet, and the Norwegian loved it about her. She could go for hours and hours, and was completely bottomless not only in her desire, but also in her ability to give. 

The Norwegian knew if she asked to stop that Mapi would easily agree, likely slipping off to the bathroom to get herself off once or twice before she returned to Ingrid, wrapping her arms around the Norwegian and letting her fall asleep on her chest. 

But Ingrid, despite being blissed out currently, is more than happy to continue this. So she shakes her head, one eyebrow raising as she raked her eyes over the defender's bare figure. 

“No,” Ingrid answered simply before she sat up, leaning over into the Spaniard’s space and pressing her down onto the bed with a hand on her sternum. 

“Can’t have you going to bed with the feeling of your hands on her now, can I?” Ingrid teases, but it lacks most of the bite of earlier. Mapi only smirks back at her as the Norwegian returns to her chest once more. She’s more thorough in her attention this time around, less desperate for herself and more attuned to Mapi’s body. She flattens her tongue against the defender's nipple as she brings a hand up to pinch at the opposing nipple, smiling into the brunette’s chest as she whines at the feeling. 

Ingrid kisses her way down Mapi’s abdomen, licking a line down her abs before she nips at the skin there playfully, enjoying the way that Mapi’s hips jump at the contact. 

The Norwegian has to take a few minutes when she finally meets her destination to pull at the cinches of the strap, undoing it before she carefully slides it down Mapi’s legs, the brunette lifting her hips to help the Norwegian get it off. 

Ingrid rids it of the green dildo before she sets it carefully to the side, well aware that she’ll be coming back for it shortly. But for now she turns back to her girlfriend, well aware of her current destination. 

Mapi can’t help but spread her legs wider as Ingrid settles between her legs, looking up at the Spaniard once more before she lowers herself right toward where the defender wanted her. 

“You sure you don’t want me to call Ale, ask her if she can send her little girlfriend back here to get you off instead of me?” Ingrid offers, so close to Mapi that she can feel the hot breath from her speaking, right where she needs the midfielder. 

“God, no Ingrid, I just want you,” Mapi promises, trying her hardest not to squirm as she nods her head. Ingrid seems to be satisfied with that answer, and she leans down, bracing her hands on either of Mapi’s thighs as she licks through the defender. 

The Spaniard lets out an ungodly noise as her hips jump into Ingrid’s mouth, and the Norwegian can’t help but moan at the taste of the defender, salty and wonderful and just as she remembers it, even after all this time. 

Ingrid moves up to flick Mapi’s clit, first side to side and then up and down with her tongue as the brunette’s hands bunch in the sheets, grunting at the feeling of Ingrid’s soft tongue against her. 

The Spaniard clenches her thighs around Ingrid’s head, pulling her in as she brings Mapi’s clit into her mouth earnestly, sucking hard as the defender bites back a scream. 

Mapi struggles to keep her hips pinned to the bed, and when she arches for the third time the Norwegian slides her hand up to press it over the base of the defender’s navel, keeping her hips trapped down to the bed sheets. 

Once she is assured that the defender won’t move, the midfielder dives back in, slipping her tongue into the wet heat between the defender's thigh, letting the slick coat her lips and chin as she pressed further and further into the brunette. 

Ingrid wasn’t trying to tease, she was far past that at this point, and she smiled when she felt the familiar tightening of Mapi’s abdomen, still working herself against the defender as she slipped two fingers into the Spaniard, curling them quickly and effectively. 

Mapi cried out, gasping Ingrid’s name as she came with the Norwegian’s finger buried deep within her, her tongue working her clit over in circles as she came down from her high. She sucked in air in a greedy fashion, only realizing once she opened her eyes that Ingrid wasn’t on the bed with her anymore, but rather standing next to her, currently getting herself adjusted to the strap. 

Mapi’s eyes widened in surprise before her pupils dilated, the thought of Ingrid fucking into her a more than welcome thought. The dark haired woman had attached Mapi’s favorite toy to the strap, the red one with ridges, and just the sight of it practically has the Spaniard drooling in want. 

“All fours,” Ingrid instructs, and the defender is quick to pop up and settle just as Ingrid had told her. One look at the wetness between the brunette’s thighs is enough for the midfielder to know that she probably doesn’t need any sort of lube, but she does it regardless, not wanting Mapi to be uncomfortable. 

Mapi has settled herself on the edge of the bed, and Ingrid walks right over to her and places her dominant hand on the small of the Spaniard’s back. She runs her hand over the tattoos she finds there, the cross, the lion, the two sphynx’s, the lotus flower at the base of her neck. 

She runs her hand down the defenders spine, trailing it with just one finger and smiling at the way that Mapi shivered under her before she palmed at the Spaniard’s ass appreciatively before she finally returned to exactly where Mapi wanted her. 

Ingrid eases the strap into Mapi slowly, allowing her time to adjust to it as she moves in and out of her shallowly. It didn’t take long for the Spaniard to adjust, arching her chest into the ground and throwing her head back as she pressed back into Ingrid. 

The Norwegian grips at Mapi’s hip for security, beginning to set a slow rhythm of pumping into the defender. But Mapi wants more, and faster, and she reaches around with one hand to grasp at the midfielders thigh, encouraging Ingrid to go faster. 

“Please, more,” Mapi practically begs, and Ingrid smirks at the desperation in her tone but she obliges all the same, beginning to move faster and faster. 

The brunette lets out a ragged sigh at the feeling, her head still thrown back as her hips press up. The Spaniard drops down onto her elbows, changing the angle and releasing a groan at the feeling as Ingrid continued, her pace quickening. She’s reaching the perfect spot, and it only continues with her next movement. 

The Norwegian reaches forward with one hand to toy with the defender's clit, knowing that Mapi was close, and knowing that this was going to be a good orgasm. The muscles of the brunette’s back were rippling as her chest contracted and spasmed, and her breathing wasn’t so much breathing as it was raspy moans. 

Mapi was tightening around the strap, making it hard for Ingrid to move even as she continued to pump in and out of the Spaniard, her hand working tirelessly over the defender's clit. 

Mapi can’t even stop the whines to warn Ingrid that she is going to come, not that she needed to. Ingrid could tell, and she chased it, pressing faster and harder into the Spaniard as the coil inside Mapi snapped, sending her crashing over the edge violently as her body spasms and contracts. 

There is stillness in the bed for a moment, the brunette suspended in pleasure before her entire body begins to shake with the force of her orgasm, Ingrid’s name falling from her mouth in a breathy moan, reverent as her entire body relaxes into the mattress, her hips still up in the air, Ingrid still completely inside of her. 

The dark haired woman leans forward to press a line of open mouthed kisses to the defenders spine softly, allowing her to come down from her orgasm slowly before she slipped out of her, stepping out of the strap and discarding it to the side before she made for the bathroom briskly. 

Mapi is still laying on the bed when Ingrid returns, brandishing a wet washcloth that she uses to clean first the defender, and then herself before she discards it back in the bathroom. By the time she manages to get back to bed the defender is settled against the pillows, her chest and face flushed but alert, and she gestures for Ingrid to join her, something the Norwegian happily does. 

Ingrid curls into Mapi’s side as she always does, tilting her head up to ghost her nose over the skin of the brunette’s throat before she presses a featherlight kiss to her jaw, the softness a juxtaposition to the frantic yet deliberate sex they had just finished having. 

But this was one of the things Mapi loved about Ingrid, her ability to be just as sweet as she was sexy, to do those kinds of things in the bed before they curled into one another, their adoration just as prominent as their lust was. It was the first time that Mapi has felt that kind of balance with someone, and now she craves it almost as much as the actual sex itself sometimes. 

“You know,” Ingrid murmurs softly, her voice barely above a whisper but still audible nonetheless. “You don’t need to hump on one of our teammates to get me to fuck you, you know that right?” 

Her tone is gentle, forgiving and understanding in the quiet stillness of the bedroom. When Mapi doesn’t say anything, she continues. 

“I missed you just as much as you did me, I promise. We don’t need to let it get this bad, I just need you to talk to me. I had no idea how you were feeling,” Ingrid admits, because the fact was that she was relatively unaware of exactly how Mapi had been feeling, and she hates that. Maria is her favorite person, and she always wants to know what she is feeling or what she is concerned about or needed. 

Mapi sighed softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of Ingrid’s hair before she wrapped her arm tighter around the Norwegian, more protective and secure. 

“I know, you are right. In the future I will be more honest and try to communicate with you more about what I need and when,” Mapi vows, and there is silence for a few moments before she smirks, letting out a huff of a laugh before she speaks once more. 

“It was pretty nice to rile you up and get you all jealous like that, though, that was hot,” Mapi admits, and realizes as soon as she’s said it that it’s a mistake. 

“Really María? Well…I guess two can play at that game!”  “Wait, no I didn’t – what?!”

[insomniac4000]

Escape-A ChrisMD fic

"Who's stupid idea was this?" Chris grumbled as he walked along with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. He then had eight pairs of eyes on him all furrowed.

"YOURS!!!" Arthur TV bellowed out. 

It started out innocently enough, the five of you sitting around in the living room as you often did, there might have been a couple of drinks consumed but nothing too major, you were mainly all sitting around and talking after failing to agree on something to watch. You had your legs draped over your boyfriend Chris's lap and was mostly just laughing at him and his friends being silly. 

"We don't do a lot, maybe we should go out do some adventure golf or something," Chris suggested, everyone moaned at the word golf. He had dragged everyone in that room to golf at some point and you all hated it. 

"Well I don't know paintball or an escape room or something!" He cried waving his arms around. You gently placed a hand on his arm to stop him from hitting you in the face accidentally. 

"Escape room could be fun," ArthurTV shrugged, he quite liked solving puzzles. 

And that was it, now here you all were three days later walking down the road at ten o clock in the morning on a Saturday, it was the only time they had available. Chris wasn't a morning person particularly he needed to have time to adjust before getting up for the day watching some Youtube or Tiktok with a cup of tea but he had woken up late this morning and didn't have time for his tea so was cranky. 

"I don't know why this is suddenly all my fault," Chris sulked, you rolled your eyes but grabbed his hand anyway and squeezed it causing him to smile at you. 

You got to the place bang on time, filled in the forms and listened to the actors spiel. The premise was of a manor house and a murder, however the detective investigating this had now gone missing. You entered the first room which looked to be a ransacked lounge, it was set in the nintety fifties and the décor reflected that. 

"What's our strategy here?" George asked looking round the room to see the two Arthur's already off trying to solve a puzzle on the table and Chris looking around gormlessly wishing he stopped for a cup of tea on the way. A collection of newspapers had caught your eye and you were rooting through them trying to find a pattern.

"We need a number!" Arthur Hill announced as him and his namesake looked around the room for any further clues.

"Hang on," you said with your finger up. "2783," you added with a smile, a slightly smug one if you did say so yourself. ArthurTV punched the numbers in and the three of you cheered when the puzzle opened revealing three keys.

"Where do they go?" Chris asked, taking some time to get into the game. 

"There under the TV," George pointed to the cabinet which had a key slot. The found the other two just as quickly.

"Huh that was easy," Chris mused as everyone piled into the next room when the door opened. The next part was a stable complete with horse puppets who neighed and made other horse sound effects.

"Well this is fucking weird," George commented as the rest of you looked around the room. 

"Horse girls are weird," Arthur Hill added and you nodded in response. 

"Why? What's wrong with animal lovers?" The other Arthur replied being a little bit offended as a lover of the animal kingdom. 

"Horse girls are a different breed. You will always come second to the horse," you explained. You had a friend in school who ended up in tens of thousands of pounds in debt due to a horse, you failed to understand it but each to their own. 

"Could this be something?" Chris had managed to switch on now, in part inspired by how quick everyone else managed to get out of the previous room and he did nothing to contribute. He was currently looking in a bag which was labelled apples. 

"Don't be stupid," Arthur TV scolded, Chris frowned and placed the bag down. 

"Fucking nerdy twat," Chris uttered under his breath. It was said in jest, like all of the banter the boys had inbetween them. 

Minutes passed and frustrations grew as it appeared you were getting nowhere. There was a game with horse reigns where you had to get them untangled and put the four sets of reigns from one side to the other so they weren't touching. The two Arthur's had decided to work on that as you took one look at it and noped straight out of there and Chris thought it was a bit too difficult and he wanted something he could solve so he didn't look like an idiot in front of you. While you and Chris scrambled throughout the rest of the room not having much luck, Chris growing ever frustrated by the second.

"For fucks sake," he moaned placing his head in his hands and he stomped his foot like a a child.

"YES!" Arthur TV shouted as they managed to solve the puzzle, a small hatch next to the ropes with a key inside. 

"Is there a door it opens?" Arthur Hill asked as he looked around. 

"Look on the wall for a clue," a voice rang out, it was the worker who was keeping an eye on the group. 

"We're so shit they need to help us," Chris muttered as he looked at the words on the wall behind him. "Red Rum, wasn't he a horse?"

"What's so special about him?" George asked also kicking himself at not being too helpful this time. 

"He won the national three times," you shrugged. 

"Then there must be three keys," ArthurTV surmised as everyone kept looking around for some more keys. Taking a punt Chris went into the bag of apples and pulled out a key straight away. 

"I knew it!!!" Chris shouted as he punched the air. You couldn't help but smile and gave his back a little rub in celebration, he looked so pleased with himself but you knew the gloating would come soon enough. 

"We would have done this room by now if I would have looked in here in the first place," Chris moaned. You were well used to his first character syndrome by now and you were very good at calming him down. Everyone else was also used to it and ignored the remark as they searched for the last key. When they finally got the final key and went through to the next room which was a library. Chris was still grumbling that no one was listening to him and everyone assumed he was thick because he liked football and it was the stereotype, it's one of the reasons he went on Mastermind.

In the library there was a map in the middle of the room, there multiple locations with lights on, ten in total and the rest of the room was filled with books. 

"Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," Chris said as he was reading the titles. As soon as he did that a light on the map came on and flashed green, it was the light which was in the states around where Vegas would be. 

"That must be it, we need to find the books which correspond to the map," ArthurTV summed up.

"There's also a letter A on the book," Chris added pointing to the post it note on the book. You then noticed the pen and pencil by the phone which was on a desk, the only other piece of furniture in the library. 

"There must be a password when we've found them all," you added as you started to look at the rest of the books before putting an arm around your boyfriend. "Look at you clever little thing," you smiled before giving him a peck on the cheek. He smiled wide and winked at you before turning his attention back to the shelves. 

"Come on love birds there will be plenty of time for that later!" George scolded as he found yet another book and said the title, The Little Paris Bookshop. 

They went through that room quite quickly before making it through to what was the final room unbeknownst to them. It was the kitchen and it looked like it had been ransacked. 

As time ticked on the group were growing ever frustrated at struggling to open the fridge, they had solved one puzzle already which told them that they needed to open the fridge as the key was in there. 

"What about ingredients or a recipe or something?" Chris asked as he was shuffling through the papers.

"I dunno," ArthurTV said as he banged his head against the fridge door. 

"Why do you all keep ignoring my ideas? I was right about the bloody bag and I smashed it with the books!" Chris shouted frustrated. 

"Because most of the time what comes out of your mouth is bollocks," George replied in jest. 

"There is too much testosterone in this room," you replied rolling you eyes. You could have gone to brunch with the girls but no, you had to join your boyfriend and his friends. "Babe, keep working on that, it's not like the rest of us have any other ideas."

Half an hour later you were all sitting in the pub, Chris with a smug smile on his face. 

"Ninety three seconds left, glad I found that cake recipe when I did," Chris gloated causing everyone else to roll their eyes. 

"Yes darling," you smiled letting him have his moment. 

[madelynhimegami]

Satan Guide

(to the anon that requested Maguro, he's next)

Satan's full title is "The Dark Prince Satan." Some apparently aren't aware that he's called the Dark Prince in Japanese as well, so I'm mentioning it.

Likewise, as funny as the "devil from Bible" jokes are, it's just his name.

You know how some people will use the term "dracula" for vampires? It's the same idea here but for demon lords (shoutouts to Gadget).

As for Satan himself, at his core he is dramatic and full of himself. He's also prone to boredom.

He's far and away the most powerful character in the franchise, hands down.

The above two points are closely linked: When you're the most powerful being in existence, it's too easy to just do what you want without consequence.

Hence the other key point of Satan's character, that he is a massive doofus.

He does stupid things on purpose while limiting his power because it creates conflict he's not immediately set to win. This allows for both drama and uncertainty.

That isn't to say he's just playing the fool and is just distracting everyone else. He really is a dumbass, he just also has an off switch for the silliness when the situation calls for it.

Whether Satan's hamming it up, or resembling a wet sock, or gushing over "Carbunny," or does something patently stupid, or behaving childishly, or displaying a fragile ego… that's not a front. That's raw, unfiltered Satan.

Satan's not really evil. He doesn't look for more power, or seek to rule the world, and isn't really into corrpting mortals into doing his bidding, let alone killing them. Guy just happens to be the Prince of Darkness.

Before continuing down this line of thought, let's take a moment to address the elephant in the room that is his relationship with Arle (and by extension Rulue, Schezo, and Carbuncle).

By the time that Madou 2 happened, Satan had become quite lonely, leading to his setting up a find-a-spouse dungeon with himself at the bottom.

It didn't work, since the first qualified person to reach him beat him up ("I shouldn't've skipped breakfast") and took his rabbit with her.

Over the next several games, Satan got the message that Arle was just flat-out not interested in marrying him.

Which was fine. The shenanigans that happened among him, Arle, Rulue, and Schezo led to the four of them becoming friends (for a given definition of "friend," in a few cases), so he's not lonely anymore.

That said, he's still committed to the bit of pursuing Arle without so much as telling her it even is a bit at this point.

Either Satan is unconvinced that his friendship dynamic with her works without him being obnoxious, or he just doesn't want to rock the boat for whatever reason.

Once, his request to marry Arle was accompanied by a Yes/No prompt. Choosing yes has Satan self-sabotage by pleading "Say it again!" until "No" is selected.

Another time, Arle had some memory problems, and actually believed Satan when he claimed that they were engaged. Satan's immediate response was "Uh, Arle? Are you feeling okay?" He then proceeded to drop the bit until Arle got her memory back.

All the same, his affection for Arle is genuine-- though whether it's still romantic, I couldn't tell you.

As for Rulue, he almost certainly appreciates her as a friend, but would prefer her to back off. Not that he can say so, let alone explain why, without breaking kayfabe.

Schezo, Satan is aware, doesn't particularly like him, but does trust him very deep down. That won't stop him from insulting and/or challenging Satan when they cross paths. Satan just plays along because that's also fun for him.

Carbuncle is adorable and Satan delights in showering him in attention when he gets the chance. Carbuncle probably thinks he has the most cringe parent in all the worlds.

Despite his tendency for chaos, Satan is generally against letting things get so out of control that people start getting seriously hurt, let alone become life-threatening.

In addition, he has nothing but respect for the freedom of others, and so will never try to coerce them, abduct them, or otherwise attempt to control them.

Of course, his penchance for shenanigans means that many will assume his involvement in the chaos of the day. They don't trust him to not be involved.

Really, all bets are off until he's confirmed or denied his involvement.

But back to the point. Satan doesn't go out of his way to cause (direct) harm to people, and he respects the free will of others.

So while he could solve most conflicts he's around for, he typically won't do so proactively, just because it would mean committing life-changing (or ending) violence, as well as deprive others involved of making a choice.

When presenting solutions, his method seems to be to first suggest the absolute least desireable one (ie, killing Squares, putting Sig into eternal sleep). Which is actually a useful strategy in giving less extreme solutions a better sense of scale (or so I heard?)

All bets are off if he has any reason to believe Arle and/or especially Carbuncle are in serious trouble.

As previously stated, Satan typically keeps his vast power in check. Manifesting his true abilities causes strain to the surroundings. The general area may start exploding and/or the fabric of reality itself may start to deteriorate.

While Satan generally sports a masculine presentation, he doesn't have a whole lot of regard for gender. He has a bikini for his own personal use, and once expressed desire to be a distressed damsel/princess that gets saved by a hero (read: Arle). And then there's Satan Saturn.

He is over 100,000 years old, he probably existed before humans even had cultural perceptions of gender.

If forced to label him, I'd say Satan is genderfluid.

Speaking of his age, while Satan physically resembles a 20-something-year-old adult (by his choice, as he can shapeshift), he gives off elderly vibes that a lot of people pick up on easily. He is referred to as an "old man" or some variant with surprising frequency.

He does not like this. So naturally, Ecolo has taken to calling him "gramps" on purpose.

[the-hinky-panda]

I say, "I heard, oh, that you've been out and about with some other girl

Here's more Dog Days are Over with our favorite Scotsman!

You’re wrapping a horse’s leg when Robert, your barn manager, stops by the stall. 

“How’s Samson doing?” 

“Getting better,” you answer as you smooth your hands over the self-adhesive wrap. “Swelling was down quite a bit this morning. He’s starting to put some weight back on it.” 

“Good signs.” 

You look up from your crouched positions and see the worry etched into Robert’s face. “So what’s up with that look?” 

“Sheriff Jarry is here, wanting to see you.” 

You stand up and knock the stray pieces of straw from your jeans. “What does she want?” 

“Didn’t say. She’s in your office.” 

“Okay.” Your stomach immediately drops. Filip is on a run down to San Bernardino to help out with some issues in the charter down there. That was all he told you about it. The two of you had clear boundaries when it came to your businesses: he didn’t talk club business, you didn’t talk about the ins and outs of your business. But if the Sheriff is stopping by to talk to you, your first fear is that Filip isn’t coming home. Your nerves get the better of you and Robert has to step in and close the latch on the stall door. 

“It’ll be okay,” he reassures you. 

You nod and head down the aisle to your office. When you step inside the room, the Sheriff is looking at the win pictures of all your Grand Prix competitions. She gives you a tight smile when you extend your hand to her. 

“Sheriff Jarry, I presume?” 

She says your name, your full name, when she shakes your hand. “Your wins are impressive. That’s a lot of money to pull in.” 

“Yeah, it is.” You move behind your desk and sit down. “Is there something I can do for you, Sheriff?” 

“I don’t normally come out this far so I just wanted to take a ride, introduce myself in person to you. I’m hearing a lot of good things about the farm here.” 

The wave of relief is so immense you see spots in your vision and you worry you’re going to pass out. Filip is okay. He’s safe. You release a shaky breath and immediately switch to your business persona. She’s here for a reason and she’s hesitant to tell you. But it’s not life or death serious which means this could be fun. 

“Thank you. Is there anything else? I have a lesson arriving in a few minutes.” 

She knows you’re playing the game now and her jaw tightens slightly. “Do you do much business with the MC?” 

You’re getting closer to the reason but still not quite there. “I don’t know what would qualify as a lot. Jax brings his two kids out here from time to time to ride ponies.” 

“I know the MC was talking of getting into more…legal businesses.” 

“Good for them.” 

Her cheek twitches. “I’ve seen you hanging around Chibs Telford lately and assumed that the MC may be switching their focus from guns to horses.” 

There it is. This visit has nothing to do with seeing the farm or getting information on the MC. It does have to do with meeting you because of the company you’re keeping. This is going to be fun. “I can assure you my relationship with Chibs is strictly personal.” 

“Yes, all of Charming has noticed that.” 

“Public affection isn’t against the law last time I checked.” 

Jarry gives you a tight lipped smile. “Just know what you’re getting into when it comes to a MC member. These little runs, for instance, are rarely about business and more about getting their dick wet.” 

Jealousy. That’s what this is about. You lean back in the desk chair. “Who’s to say I’m not taking the same advantage? You ever hear about open relationships?”  Or trust, you want to add. You weren’t naive, not by a long shot. You knew from eavesdropping that most runs were all about laying women and partying. You had asked Filip about it the first time he went on a run and he had assured you that his word was trustworthy. 

You had been draped across his chest, watching the digital clock on your nightstand click by the minutes until he had to leave for a run up to Seattle. His heart was thudding loudly in your ear as your fingertips traced the edge of the million dollar bill tattoo on his chest. 

“What’s on your mind, luv?” 

“Runs sound like a lot of fun. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Kind of wish I was going with you.” 

He laughs in a short huff. “I can promise you, you’re not gonna be missing much. Never cared for drugs and I got all the sex I need right here.” 

“I know what happens on the road stays on the road so-“ 

“So nothin’.” He turns so you’re nose to nose to each other, his finger twining between yours and holding your hand against his heart. “I told you, you’re the one for me and I mean it.” 

The sentiment is genuine, you can see it in his eyes, and you have to force back the welling of tears. “Who would have thought I would have found the one MC member who’s a one woman man?” 

“Here I am,” he smiles before pressing his lips to yours. 

It’s that lingering kiss that you keep in the forefront of your mind as you stare down Jarry, who’s got her hands on her belt. 

“I just thought you should be aware of how MCs work.” Jarry pauses briefly. “Given your background.” 

“Background?” The fuck is she talking about? 

“I just would have thought someone who had been cheated on before would appreciate the warning of it happening again.” 

Shock renders you speechless. This woman read your divorce settlement. The depths of her jealousy are much deeper than you anticipated. This isn’t a “check out the new girlfriend” visit. This is the first shot in a turf war. Jarry gives you a satisfied smile. 

“I’ll see myself out. You do have a lovely barn here.” 

You continue to sit in the silence of your office, trying to process everything that was said and implied. This could develop into a very serious issue, one that very well could endanger this new, fresh relationship you have with Filip. Well, you’re certainly not going down without taking a few shots yourself. You pick up your phone and punch in a phone number. The person on the other end answers after two rings. 

“I was just getting ready to call you. Abel’s been begging me to let him ride Taffy.” 

“He can come this afternoon,” you answer. “I was hoping you could come too. I need to talk to you about someone. Someone, actually.” 

“Okay,” comes the mildly suspicious answer. “Who?” 

“What do you know about Sheriff Jarry, Gemma?” 

[notenuffbees]

I have many responsibilities in my personal and professional life, so naturally I used my valuable time to create this rating of every single one of Dick Knubbler's outfits. I know next to nothing about fashion, so naturally I'm the most qualified person to make this list. Bold fashion choices and wrong opinions under the cut. Let me know what you think!

"Pre-Accident" Outfit. Appears in Dethwater. What an iconic look to start the series with. Songgu Kwon's concept art that's available online has Knubbler in a traditional suit, so I wonder when they made the switch to this style jacket. It's a shame he never wore this exact outfit ever again. Maybe it doesn't go with his robotic eyes? Do you think Dick had to get a whole new wardrobe after his eyes exploded since he stopped being blue eyed? And what do you think happened to his collection of different shaded glasses? 9/10

"Award Show " Outfit. Appears in Dethwater. It's a suit. Boring. And it's just the same color scheme as the first outfit? Extra points for the bowtie and the pocket square. I just realized while making this list that he's not wearing shades in this outfit. 6/10

"Prison" Outfit. Appears in Dethwater If there was any justice in the Metalocalypse universe, Knubbler would have spent the rest of the series in this outfit in a jail cell. Not much else to say about this one. I like the red-rimmed glasses. 3/10

"Disco" Outfit. Appears in Dethwater.

Hideous. The bell bottoms, the clashing colors, the star patterns, whatever the hell kind of dance moves he's trying to pull off. Absolutely iconic. I would rank this outfit higher if it didn't physically hurt my eyes to look at it. 6/10

"Magazine" Outfit. Appears in Dethwater.

It's the same as the "Pre-Accident" Outfit, just with a green turtleneck. For some reason I don't like this outfit nearly as much. Maybe because the green matches the eyes? But aren't you supposed to match colors in fashion? I don't know. Again, I'm probably the last person in the world that should be judging clothes.

5/10

"Court" Outfit. Appears in Dethkomedy. Interesting color choices. This is why Knubbler's outfits are so great. You've got a basic suit-and-tie that becomes a fashion win/disaster with the lilac coat, black shirt, and pink striped tie. The stripes on the tie make it a little too busy for me though. 7/10

"The Knubbler" Outfit. Appears in Dethkids, Dethrecord, Dethrelease/Black Fire Upon Us, Dethhealth, Doublebookedklok. Step away from your phone/computer for a second. Close your eyes. Take a few breaths. Then picture Dick Knubbler. What outfit is he wearing? I bet you pictured him in this. If you didn't, well then it's what Murderface pictured him wearing in his gay crisis fantasy. So yeah. There's a reason this outfit is the one they put him in over three seasons. Knubbler wore this style jacket before and since these episodes, but the plum really makes this version of the outfit shine. Absolutely perfect. No notes. 10/10

"Recording on Water" Outfit. Appears in Dethvengeance, the cancelled Metalocalypse video game. Again, I love how Knubbler spices up a classic suit and tie with wild color choices. My personal preference for warm colors has me wishing the colors were a bit bolder than forest green and purple. But I gotta give love to any outfit with a pocket square. 7/10

"White Dethmas" Outfit. Appears in Dethmas, Fertilityklok, and in issue 3 of the Dethklok comic book. This one's great. It takes a brave man to wear an all white outfit, and he pulls it off. My only issue is that it's kind of weird that he also wore it to Toki's birthday party which, according to the calendar in Fertilityklok, is late summer or early autumn. I assume they made this Dethmas outfit all white to go with the snow/winter/Christmas theme, but apparently Dick will just wear it whenever. 8/10

"Christmas Special Host" Outfit. Appears in Dethmas. Perfectly average. Just a tuxedo. The red bowtie/pocket square with the green vest is a nice Christmas-y touch. Loses points for being so boring otherwise. 6/10

"Nativity" Outfit. Appears in Dethmas. I don't know if I've ever been able to watch this clip all the way through without having to pause due to the secondhand embarrassment. Sometimes I think about how there exists a 30 second clip of this man screaming in agony as the blood vessels in his face swell and his eyeballs eventually explode, but this is the clip that makes me cringe myself inside out. I can barely look at this outfit long enough to rank it. The necklace is pretty cool though, even if I can't tell what the charm is supposed to be. It kind of looks like Facebones? Or the old DeviantArt mascot? I don't know. Let's just get the hell away from this picture. 2/10

"Dealing with a Murderface Tantrum" Outfit. Appears in Dethsiduals The first of two suit-without-a-tie outfits. The purple and black go well together, and the pocket square makes another excellent appearance, although it pairs with the dress shirt this time rather than the ascot. Heh. Ascot. That's a funny word. 7/10

"Season 4" Outfit. Appears in Writersklok, Goingdownklok, Breakupklok. I'm disappointed that he had so few outfits in season 4. That sours my opinion on this suit a little. But I love that there are three completely different colors with this outfit. Someone teach me how color coordination is done so I can understand why this outfit works.

And we've got another pocket square paired with the ascot! So I get to think about the word "ascot" again! 8/10

"Flawless Disguise" Outfit. Appears in Writersklok. I love the running joke of a tracksuit and a baseball cap being the ultimate disguise in the Metalocalypse universe. Leave it to Knubbler to turn a tracksuit outfit into a capital L Look. I like that his baseball cap has a blue star on it like the pink shirt from the "Disco" Outfit, and that the suit itself is lavender like the "Court" Outfit. 8/10

"Clergy" Outfit. Appears in Army of the Doomstar Another boring outfit compared to what he wears for most of the series. I wonder why they picked green for the color. Because that was the color of his robot pupils for most of the series? Because it's the same color as the nuclear seahorse from Dethwater? Because it makes him look more like Yoda? I'll give bonus points to this outfit since he was probably free-balling under that thing. Or should I take away points for that? Honestly my least favorite part of these robes is that Dick didn't get to die in a zazzier outfit. Hopefully in the Metalocalypse universe, ghosts can pick what outfit they wear when they haunt the shit out of the band. 6/10 And that's that! Please tell me how wrong my ratings are and where you would rate them instead. I need fashion lessons!

[cellarspider]

23/30 Characterization speedrun

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We return to a movie that exposits with all the grace of an inebriated hippo on rollerskates, Prometheus.

Y’know, I have a soft spot for the first movie adaptation of Silent Hill (2006). Yes, we're tangenting to talk about something else I like better, but I swear it's for a purpose.

It mostly sticks to the first game’s content, meaning it limits the number of themes it has to handle. It makes some alterations that affect its interpretation–it switches the gender of the protagonist, alters the religious elements, cuts out the bit where you basically fight Baphomet at the end of the game, but that always felt weird anyway. And, of course, there’s a required appearance by a certain tetrahedron lad, reanalyzed as a punitive figure turned outward on the world rather than inward toward the person that conjured him. I’ll allow it, partly because I saw it when I was a teenager and I thought he was badass.

But what it really nails camerawork, creature effects, and set design. So much so that a lot of the visuals of following games lifted from creative decisions made for the movie. The Silent Hill movie is more a thing of vibes than anything else, and the vibes are appropriately awful.

[Video description: Rose (Radha Mitchell) and Cybil (Laurie Holden) encounter a Lying Figure (Michael Cota), AKA Armless Man or Straightjacket. There’s only a tiny amount of CG here. It was pretty much all Cota’s unnerving shuffle and his willingness to be shoved into blinding, deafening, arm-tying monster-bondage with a breathing tube hidden around butt-height.. We salute you, Mr. Cota, possibly with our feet.]

But where the movie trips and falls is right near the end, where the vibes screech to a halt so that the movie can sit you down and explain the backstory that it already intimated throughout the rest of the runtime.

On a totally unrelated note, Janek has something to tell Shaw.

This barren moon, believe it or not, isn’t the Engineers’ homeworld. Y’don’t say.

You know what would’ve been a better way to set this up? Have somebody ask “hey, there’s nothing but rocks and ominous buildings here. What gives?”, but they literally never do. Not even the biologist, who does no biology in the movie. The geologist, who also doesn’t do any geology, doesn’t note, say, a lack of siltstone that’d indicate running water, no coal of any kind that’d indicate previous growth of plant matter, no signs of oil or natural gas deposits derived from ancient microbes. Lord knows the poor bastards weren’t swamped with work before the script ate them.

But no, there’s no questioning of this. Shaw dictates in her notes “Was there an outbreak here?”, after exploding the head. But that’s it. No, we leave it to Idris Elba explain, as seriously and as military guy-ily as he can. This is a weapons lab or depot, something went wrong here, Janek’s going to do a self-sacrifice if it seems like the weapon might get to Earth. He even says the weapons are in “those vases”, in case you didn’t notice them before.

Consider: Principle photography for Prometheus was done in 2011, from March 21 to June 10 (cite 1). On November 14, Filming began for Pacific Rim, in which Idris Elba gots to play a serious self-sacrificing military guy with the exact same mustache who has an actual character arc, AND was allowed to use his actual accent.

In Prometheus, Janek apparently had more characterization planned, but it was stripped entirely away until all you’re left is a christmas tree, a plot-mandated laxity in keeping track of passengers, and incomprehensible flirting with Vickers. On balance, that’s more than pretty much everyone else gets, but at the same time, what does that tell us? We are left with a man who’s going to pull a heroic sacrifice, essentially because he’s the only other character we know about.

In cut material, Janek was originally going to give a sympathy monologue to Vickers after she killed Holloway, about a traumatic event in his military career: he watched a bioweapons lab suffer a breach that ended with its destruction. That was cut. His motivation was cut. And more, too, you can see the ragged edges of the script. 

“Right, ‘all you do is fly the ship,’” quotes an exasperated Shaw. “That’s right,” says Janek, who told Vickers that in a cut scene.

Despite these pieces missing, I haven’t been drawing on them very often. Why? Because the movie was still full of baffling decisions, regardless of how they edited it down. The movie that’s shot never looks like what gets shown in theaters, but it is still a representative sample of the material, one that was prepared for us to watch.

While Janek’s entire motivation fell off him in the editing room, Vickers gets undermined by what they did keep. Turns out she’s not just nasty to her employees, she’s nasty to her boss as well, because he’s her dad. She’s presented as obsessed with making sure he dies, which, fair, we’ll soon confirm that his only begotten robo-son is pretty big on that too.

…Except this also means they have the same character motivation, which… That can work, but how well does it work as a twist? 

I am not convinced. Vickers has constantly been pulling power plays on David, who’s pushed back a little in return, but they don’t have to functionally be siblings to make this work. Nor does the weird, occasionally robotic behavior from Vickers have to mean “aha, you see, they are both Weyland’s children with daddy issues!”

She could just be a disposable asset of the Weyland Corporation! She’d have a more sympathetic arc that way, because unlike corpos of Aliens past, she doesn’t want to be there at all. She didn’t want them to talk to aliens, she didn’t express any of the usual flimsy “we can profit off of this uncontrollable killing machine” stuff we’ve come to expect. She seemed to just want to get the fuck out of there. And obviously, she’s gonna die, this movie is frequently aping Alien and Aliens, the corpo does not survive. That could be tragic!

But apparently she wanted to be here, taking five years out of her life and career to sit on ice and do literally nothing but make sure her already dying dad actually dies. Okay. 

It’s especially, structurally weird, because the very next scene has David explaining his motivation to Shaw.

“What happens when Weyland isn’t around to program you?”

“I suppose I’ll be free.”

“You want that?”

“”Want”? Not a concept I’m familiar with. That being said… doesn’t everyone want their parents dead?”

This is what happens when you leave a hyperintelligent newborn alone for two years with nobody but Peter O’Toole as a role model. 

This scene and the pre-caesarian one set up a weird dynamic between David and Shaw that didn’t seem sufficiently motivated by the rest of their interactions, in my opinion. It suggests that David has latched onto her in some way, which the next movie certainly confirms. But why? They’ve barely talked, ad most of it was pure exposition or telling David to do something. Is it because she hasn’t been as bad as the others? Because that’s going to change later. 

David’s hopes are pinned on the Engineer rejecting Weyland. This is a reasonable assumption. The way the scene plays out, however, is not entirely reasonable.

And that will have to wait for another day. Before we get to that, I want another ramble all to myself. About something I like.

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Alt-text rambles:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/paulbhartzog/558247427/in/photostream/ 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greeble 

https://youtu.be/cOrcwL5MHYg

Overflow Ramble 1

The kitchen counters don’t have any grippy surfaces on them, and no lip. The *stove* has no lip, which I have seen before, but it’s stupid. Most modern designs for stovetops meant for installation on ships have a high lip and/or grippers that hold cookware in place. There are multiple open shelves that have no lip. And there’s yet another piece of Decorative African Art just hung on the wall above a food prep counter, within the potential reach of steam or grease splatter. The chair Holloway sat in last time is revealed to be free-standing, as is the coffee table.

No. No free-standing furniture, unless it’s collapsible and used at rest. Put lips on every counter and table. Have lots of grip mats you can throw down anywhere. The design in here is more along the lines of airline tray tables, which are meant to be stowed during rough flight. There is no way to stow all this shit in a reasonable and timely manner. Airline furniture is also designed according to hostile forces, which, frankly, might be relevant here. This comfy, beige apartment space was designed by someone who did not give one fuck if a glass went winging off that 2m tall open shelf and gave you a concussion.

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[sea-of-dust]

Aigami x GN! Reader

There's no summary my demons won. Wrote this during April fools watch it come out 3 months later.

Upd: it's july.... it's also my birthday🔥

He'd be on edge when he first meets you. As soon as you took interest in him he's already thinking that you might know something about the Plana. When finding out you're just someone interested in him he'd continue on with his act, would judge you without saying a word, but still hungout with you.

He'd fall hard, realizing it after a while but to everyone else it's aggressively obvious, the way he stares at you while you two talk and sudden dropping of the act around you kinda made it obvious to everyone in that classroom. "Aigami, did you get anything he just said?" "I did, not that I'd give it to you" he continues scribbling down the notes. "I know you remmber" he smirks to himself narrowing his eyes "and if I didnt?" You glare at him "I'll ask Bakura" never fails to get him to help you

He would get a little jealous, your one of his friends totally not crushes, you shouldn't talk to Joey for more than two secounds and not expect a certain cube person to just slide in and add nothing to the conversation just staring into Joey's soul. "It's too hot in this mask" "drink this" "ah thanks y/n AHHH" he jumps back covering his face, the mascots stuffed arms blocking him from view. "I can take this anymore, please buy him eye contacts" "I think he'd still do that" you sweat a bit

You got the pleasure of being the first person he asked for almost anything. "What's this?" He shows you a small toy with "B'LOONIES" in colorful bubbled letters near the top. "These you kinda blow into a straw and it makes plastic bubbles" "I see" this would also extend to certain brands, attractions, heck even games. You still told him about them without judging him, assuming he was just heavily sheltered. You'd notice this when you date him but he does stare alot at your face while you try to figure something out. When you're just friends the stares full of innocence and curiosity, as if excited for the answer, when you get closer to him however he looks with more uncaring eyes, still curious however lacking the child level curiosity as if only giving it to you just to watch and hear you.

He'd ask to go to places after school. Some girls talk about a spot? He's taking you. He dosent want you to go home even if you spend 8 hours a day with him just school alone.

"Do I exist in your thoughts?" "You're in all of them" a quick reply, no hesitation espically when you unironcally showed him a picture of him looking unenthusiastic with a cat filter on in your wallet. "Why am I right next to your id?" "You exist in my thoughts" You got him to crack a smile revealing a small crumpled up photo of you he had kept in his pocket, all cheerful with a different he clearly found stupid. "Where do you keep that-" he scoffs "you might exist in my thoughts"

He's not used to physical affection but one hug left him wanting a few more. So he starts greeting you with them, which shouldn't be as terrifying as it is. "Y/n!" He nearly tackles you a bright smile on his face. "Can you return my aigami please I think someone switched mine out" "?" He giggles at your joke making you a bit nervous. "Are you ok?" "I'm fine" "you sure?" "." You bring him back in no time

If you'd organize a date, Sera would try to hype him up while he'd just be internally panicking. Fiddling with an outfit he found while Sera smiles and details random ideas she had, about hand holding, winning prizes at fairs, sacrificing all of your known possessions. He'd have to tell her to stop a few times just so he could focus on what to do without images of you saying or doing exactly what she said

You two could go on dates only for Joey and Tristan to sneak around and watch. "Don't look but" you try to hold in your giggle and mumble your words, leaning in for him to hear you "Joey's wearing a wig and he thinks he we don't know it's him" you cover your mouth with a napkin trying to mutter the laughter, it was such a cheap wig and he didn't even put it on correctly it has just sitting on his head, Tristan didn't even bother he just wore heart shades he probably stole from Tea. They got the bill for your food

With you around, he let's his guard down by nearly every bit of it, leading to unfiltered Aigami momments. For example you allowing him to be a passenger on your bike. "Are you sure this is safe?" "Yea Joey does it all the time with Tristan." He carefully steps on gripping your shoulders for dear life. "You're gonna suck the life from me" "should have equipped seat belts" he enjoys the fresh air of a bike ride to school, the soft wind while observing his surroundings...before being blasted to next year by a down hill ride. He's not doing that again.

[dei-lab-assistant]

Nothing Builds a Friendship Like a Crisis (part 4)

Co-written with multifandoms27

Summary: Mokuba has been kidnapped as the two of you performed his monthly inspection of Kaiba Land. Reginald O'Malley, the president of rival gaming company Knightly Rook, is responsible for the kidnapping, and has challenged Kaiba to a tag duel in order to win back Mokuba. To your surprise, Kaiba asked you to be his partner for the duel, since Yugi was out of town. As you head to the rooftop helipad, you hope you're not getting in over your head. Dub canon plus a version of DSOD. Female Reader. Set maybe two years post DSOD. (This chapter does not contain playing the card game...) Fun fact: I always write my Reader character with personality and specific description. Each reader character also has a specific place in the Yu-Gi-Oh world, and is basically an OC with set connections and feelings about the various canon characters and other reader characters. This is reader B, who is immune to the siren song of romance, cheap, eccentric, logical, and hands-on. Word count: 1,647 You can read part 1 here. You can read part 2 here. You can read part 3 here. You stood inside the elevator which had roof access, feeling the floor press against your feet as you and Kaiba shot upwards. The doors slid open to reveal a helipad. Stepping out onto the roof, you squinted in the blinding summer sunlight as heat radiated up from underfoot and down from above. After ditching your hat, abandoning your sunglasses, and replacing your t-shirt with a fitted black shirt and a short white vest, you had run after Kaiba, barely catching the elevator in time. Now, staring at your shadow, you smiled at your silhouette; it was angular, with your capris falling to your midcalf, and the vest cutting off halfway down your torso, with a high collar and flaring out shoulders. It was a good image, a strong outline, and it sort of reminded you of something… Team Rocket. You groaned. 

Kaiba strode past you towards the helicopter, his hair ruffling in the wind created by the rotors. He moved without hesitation. This was your last chance to back out, but your mind discarded the suggestion. When you jumped into a project, you didn’t look back. This was no different. As the artificial wind and engine noise increased, you followed Kaiba inside the helicopter, feeling the sudden lack of blustering air as you pulled the door shut behind you. It was surprisingly quiet inside.   

You almost planted your face against the window during takeoff. For a few minutes, the excitement of being in a helicopter drowned out everything else. Settling down on the bench opposite Kaiba, you tried to focus on your deck and prepare for the upcoming duel. “You look nervous.” Kaiba commented. “I am nervous. We’re about to duel for your brother. What if I’m not up to the task? What if we lose?” You regretted sharing your worries as soon as you said them.

“I don’t lose.”

“Oh, we both know that’s not true.”

Kaiba scowled at you. “I don’t lose to two-bit schemers like O’Malley.”

Fair point. Kaiba was an excellent duelist, one of the best in the world. “I might. I’m a decent duelist, but my deck is hardly top notch, and—”

“You won’t hold me back. I’ll win on my own if I need to.” Kaiba’s voice was ice. His eyes softened a smidge. “But you’re a competent duel partner.”

Kaiba believed in your ability? You gave a faint smile, he wouldn’t have asked you otherwise. “I try.”

“You better.”

After a few minutes of silence, Kaiba spoke up again. “Let me see your deck.”

Switching to the bench Kaiba was sitting on, you pulled your deck out of your belt box and spread the cards between you. Working at a game shop brought advantages; you had managed to get some decent cards, and were using one of the new ‘archetypes.’ When you first found out about the Kozmo cards, you knew you wanted to try and build a deck with them. But even with an employee discount, and Yugi’s Grandpa helping track down cards, you had barely managed to build the simplest form of the deck. 

“Hm.” Kaiba grabbed his silver briefcase from the floor and opened it. His laptop was strapped into the lid, and the base of the case held thousands of dollars worth of cards. Your eyes widened. “Borrow a few for your deck.” It sounded more like an order than an offer.

“I can’t start swapping my cards right before a duel! It could mess up my strategies.” It was stupid, but you didn’t want to feel like you owed him anything.

Kaiba planted his fingers on a few of your cards and slid them across the bench towards you, “I’m offering you a chance to replace your weak staples with stronger options. Take it.”

“Fine, but I’m giving them back after we win. I don’t need your charity.” You took the briefcase from Kaiba and perused the contents. This would require thought. After selecting a few cards like Ice Dragon’s Prison and Pot of Greed, you showed Kaiba the chosen cards and slipped them into your deck. He nodded approvingly.   

Kaiba pulled out his own deck, rifling through the cards idly until he found one of his favorites. 

“Can I look at one of your Blue-Eyes?” You were surprised at your own audacity, but if you wanted Kaiba to treat you like an equal, you would need to act like one.

“Sure.” Extending two fingers, he held the card out.                    

Up till now, you had only held the ripped Blue-Eyes at the game shop. This one was beautiful. You could imagine its roar. Feel its presence. Holding the card was an honor—you felt like Kaiba had handed you part of his soul. 

“Do you know what that card represents?” Kaiba asked.  

“You?”

Kaiba almost smiled. “You spend too much time with Yugi.”

You realized your mistake. “Your power.” It wasn’t a guess anymore, you knew you were right.

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards for a moment, before seriousness won out again. 

You knew the card text without needing to look at it, “This legendary dragon is a powerful engine of destruction. Virtually invincible, very few have faced this awesome creature and lived to tell the tale.” 

“Listen,” Kaiba stared at you intently, “We’re about to step into enemy territory. You can’t show weakness or fear, because our adversaries will pounce on any opening you provide.”

You nodded. “I’ll try, but I don’t feel overly confident right now.”

“Your feelings don’t matter.” Kaiba slammed his deck down on the bench between you. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” It was the truth.

“Then remember my power is behind you now, and act like it.”  

“Kaiba…” You saw no deception in his eyes, only trust, and determination. “Thank you.” You handed back his card, realizing he was letting you into his world because he wanted you at his side. Taking a deep breath, you asked, “How long until we arrive?”

“Less than an hour.”

You leaned back against the wall, which vibrated as the copter beelined for your destination. Closing your eyes, running over everything your deck could do, you tried to focus, until the events of the day caught up to you, and you dozed off. Some time later, your head jerked up as your eyes flew open. It was too quiet. The helicopter had landed on another roof, this one in rolling mountains, surrounded by forests. Standing near the front, Kaiba held a muttered conversation with the pilot. You stretched and rubbed your neck. “This is our destination?” Outside the helicopter, men in suits and sunglasses gathered—a security team. Closing your eyes, you rolled them to slightly reposition your contacts; it was almost time for action.

Kaiba strode to the door. “Remember what I told you.” 

You cracked your knuckles, nodding. “Let’s do this.” Nerves settled themselves; playing a game was easier than waiting for it to begin.

Throwing open the door, Kaiba jumped down. Inhaling deeply, you drew yourself up to your full height; you had always been comfortable with yourself—it was time to stop worrying about manners and act more like Kaiba. You grinned, casually stepping out the doorway and landing beside him. It was cooler here than in Domino City, the air filled with the buzz of cicadas and birdsong.

“What are you doing here?”

Hearing the quiet murmur, you turned to Bishop, who shifted slightly under your gaze. “Surprised to see me?”

“I went to considerable expense to keep you out of this mess, Ms. l/n.”

“Why’s that?” You asked, remembering Kaiba’s words about the high cost of the drugs in your slushy.

“I didn’t want to see a naive little girl get caught up in this game.”

“I’m four years older than Kaiba.” You weren’t angry, you had always looked younger than your age, and you certainly lacked experience in these high stakes games. “But I appreciate your concern.”

“Your boss is using you.” “Hnh.” Kaiba crossed his arms. “I like being useful. Besides,” you slid your hands into your pockets and leaned back against the helicopter, “I make my own choices, Bishop.”

“Suit yourself. But I wash my hands of your fate.”

Before you could reply, the nearby elevator entrance dinged. As the doors slid apart, Mr. O’Malley strolled out before they finished opening. He grinned. “Ah, Mr. Kaiba, I’m so glad you could join us!” The security men parted to allow their employer through. “And you’ve brought a woman with you. I’m impressed. Perhaps even the intolerable Seto Kaiba can attract a pretty face.”

“Don’t waste my time with your ludicrous assumptions, O’Malley.”

“Darling, the girl is obviously a gold digger.” From the elevator emerged a woman with bottle blond hair and flashy jewelry, her makeup and clothes trying desperately to hide her status as a middle aged woman in her forties. She wore a sleek black dress with brown fur accents perfectly matching O’Malley’s tie. 

“Allow me to introduce the missus.” Holding out a hand to his wife, who took it with a regal air, O’Malley presented her as though royalty. “My dear queen Sasha—bright as fireworks in a summer sky, ambitious as Caesar, and lovely as the Ring of Kerry.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed?”

“Now now, Mr. Kaiba, no need to be rude. I’m sure your own queen has many lovely qualities as well. While her devotion to the white king shows a certain lack of wisdom, I’m sure she possesses other charms.”

He was still using chess metaphors, you noted. 

“Get to the point, O’Malley, we’re here for Mokuba.” 

“Ah yes, your poor little brother. The lad’s been quite adamant you would come for him.”

“Where’s Mokuba?” Kaiba’s tone dropped lower, bristling with hostility. 

“I’m not a cruel man. I shan't keep such devoted brothers apart for long.” Turning gracefully, O’Malley looked back over his shoulder at them. “Please, follow me.”

[randomkposts]

How would a female Minato (from persona) be? Do you think she will be recieved well?

Sorry for the wait.

I had a lot of thoughts on self insert protagonists and self inserts  to work through first. It got long, but I hope you enjoy!

Most Persona protagonists, and Megaten protagonists in general, are harder to map out in personality, because of the self insert nature of them. You can infer things about their personality based on the options and dialogue choices given to you, and the comments other people make about them, but with the choice in the players hands, each variant is going to be different. 

You can play the game working to max all the social links, some, or even none, while also boosting your social stats and exploring Tartarus. You can beat the game while characterizing the protagonist as someone who does nothing with their their time but karaoke and exploring Tartarus, and is grouchily dragged to the occasional social event whereupon they act like an asshole. Regardless of how you play the game and spend their year, they are given an opportunity to save the world.  They still choose at the beginning of the game to use the evoker when in danger. 

No player can take that away from them.

They also still have their backstory. 

Their parents died in a fight between Aigis and Ryouji, and an aspect of death was sealed within them. From there they lived with relatives until they were sent to high school. How happy they were with their relatives is up to headcanon, but considering there is no sign of contact to or from them within the game, I will assume that the connection between them is one based on obligation not affection.

Additionally, with portable we do have a female protagonist for Persona 3, FemC. Kotone. Minako. Hamuko. Whichever name for her you prefer, she is the P3 female protagonist, and should not be ignored when considering this question. After all, while they have differences in their personalities, they share the same backstory. I would say, they handled their grief differently, and part of that may be from differences in gender and socialization. 

They have different personalities too. MC/Minito has a quieter nature, where FemC seems to be more comfortable in social situations. Of course, they both seem to do their best socializing during one on one conversations for social links, a part of which is the nature of a self insert, their not exactly going to be starting the latest rumor, and you the player are left to imagine what they would be talking about. 

Still, for them to work in a game like Persona, they can't be all left to the player like a Sim. No. They are a wildcard, someone who is able to switch their social mask to match the situation or person they are interacting with. Their Persona.

Let's backstep a bit to the older games where party members could all summon more than one Persona. Back then, characters had affinities for different types of Masks, based on what they were comfortable showing the world. They could use most types of masks with good affinity, a few with Best Affinity, and a few with Bad or Worst. What tarots they have best and bad affinities with tell you things about their personalities. In fact, I would say that their bad and worst affinities may be in reverse, which have a different meaning from upright readings. 

Back on point, Maki and Yukino share opposite affinities for their best and bad Arcana, with Maki being best at Priestess, and worst at Empress, and Yukino being best at Empress and worst at Priestess. They are also the only two characters in the first game with a good affinity for Death arcana, with everyone else Except Reiji being Bad at it. (Reiji is Best for Death Tarot in the games). They are also driving forces behind their respective game routes, and can never be in the same party.

Reiji, as the hardest character to recruit in game, is also on a journey of his own, unless you get the requirements that allow him to open to the possibility of having a journey as friends. In fact Reiji has different strength and worst affinities to every party member, with the exception of Fortune which every party member has a best affinity for, and Moon which the males in the party have the best affinity for. Must just be that kind of time in their lives for all of them. 90s highschool. 

Between tarots, birthday, initial persona, and blood type, we could look a lot into unsaid but present aspects of each characters personality.(If you want to learn what P3 protagonists blood type says about them, check out my post on Ketsuki-gata , they are bloodtype O.

In later games, they have simplified that by bringing the non player characters down to one arcana, and giving the protagonist nothing, expecting you to fill in the blanks. You are the fool on a journey, and thus filled with infinite potential, unlike everyone else who are more fixed in their presentation.  They too are on their journeys, and perhaps their arcana is a reflection of who they are to the protagonist, and where they are in their personal journey. 

Or maybe, alternatively, who the protagonist is to them. What mask does the Protagonist wear when interacting with them? Is the protagonist being the the face they need in their life to move to the next arcana in their journey, and that's why wearing the arcana mask they have gets more points in an interaction? Or are they being that face for the protagonist, the lesson they need. Perhaps it is both. 

After all, we do have differing characters in our social links between the male and female protagonists in P3. Not a whole cast change, but they come across different people in their journeys, in contrast to P4 protagonist who can get different people for their links based on choices of club.  And then there are party members Akihiko and Shinjiro, who have different Arcanas depending on the gender of the route you take. 

This change is interesting, as none of the other cast members shift in perception. In fact, they are the last characters to have multiple arcana affinities in the series to date. And the original P3 had all of the characters capable of using personas come before 13 (Death) in the tarot. 0 the fool (protag), 1 the magician (Junpai), all the way to 12 the hanged man (Chidori).

In a Male route for Persona 3, Akihiko is the Emperor, and in a female route he is the star. Shinjiro meanwhile represents the Hierophant for a male, and the Moon for a female.

To try to keep this bit short (I have plans to go into more details about them in the future), the Emperor is symbolic of leadership, power, authority, influance, the father card lol. The star is a card of healing. It is a renewal of spirit, calmness, serenity, a positive outlook for the future. Basically one of the most positive cards in the deck.

The Hierophant is a teacher. In contrast to the high priestess who is mystery, intuition, and the unconscious, the Hierophant is traditionally based in education, righteousness, orthodoxy, sacred, and morals. The moon is probably the one of most complicated card in the deck, and holds meanings related to deception, and hidden aspects of life.

This indicates that the protagonists view and interact differently with Akihiko and Shinji based on gender and beliefs or vice versa. Probably a mix of both. For her, or perhaps to her Akihiko and Shinjiro were the star and the moon, even though their tarot journey still otherwise in life has them as Emperor and Hierophant.

That offers interesting things to speculate about. Some other post, or perhaps later in this one, I will get back to it. Lets talk about the Fool card.

For keywords" an upright fool is about new beginnings, freedom, innocence, idealism, freedom, adventure, and spontaneity. Its reversed keywords are gullible, reckless, careless, distracted, naive, foolish, stale, and dull. Its the card of infinite potential, a blank slate. Upright, it is a card of optimism, a new journey full of opportunities. The fool walks forward untroubled by the possible dangers ahead. They are willing to take risks off of intuition, expand their horizons, and generally, take that leap of faith. "

The bulk of Persona 3 is aptly called the journey, and it is about the P3 protagonist learning the lessons of the Tarot. There are reasons some social links are locked behind the progression of some other social links, and that is about the protagonist learning the lessons from the other arcana before they are ready to learn the lessons of other arcana. And perhaps ready to give the lesson that particular social link needs too.

I don't think I've seen a fic soley about the different masks of the any of the protagonists. Being a wildcard, they are good with all affinities, but being everything sounds intense. 

"The reversed fool is about living in the moment, not planning for the future and disregarding the consequences of their actions. "

Which is what happens if you pick the bad endings. By giving up their memories in favor of ignorant happiness, you are choosing for them to live in the moment, giving up any potential of a future for their world to have a future, and whats more they give up everyone elses chance with that choice. 

The other post P3 endings carry the themes of reversed fool, but I think it is strongest shown in P3.

In contrast giving up their life to save the world, gives them The World arcana. 

"The world upright is about assured success, immigration, voyage, change of pace, flight. Reversed it is about Inertia, fixidity , stagnation, permanance. It is an ending to a cycle, a pause before the next journey begins with the fool. 

“

To encounter the world in your cards is to encounter great unity and wholeness. It symbolizes the moment when the inner and other worlds, self and other, become a single entity. It is about reaching enlightenment. Nirvana. There is a recognition that the individual self is profoundly linked with all other things, and we are all dancing and sway along the flow of life to one rhythm. Not only do you hear this rhythm, but you participate in it - following the dips and the rises, the joys and the sorrows. 

The meaning of the World card is fulfillment, achievement, and completion. This shows that all the efforts that you have been putting in place are starting to pay off. It reflects that you have completed a major milestone in your life and you have built the resilience to withstand challenges. The World may indicate completion of a long-term project, study or any other major event in your life. It may also mean the birth of a child, marriage, graduation or any other thing that you have accomplished.

The World card shows that you have a desire to give back to the community in various ways. You have a commitment to make the world a better place because you understand that everything is connected. “

Reversed, the world is “You are drawing near to something that marks the end of a journey or an era. You may have many accomplishments that have lined your path, but there is a strange emptiness that fills you when you look backwards upon it, as if you have all the pieces but they are not coming together. What is missing? Do you feel connected to what you're doing? Do you feel connected to others? What alienates you from feeling complete? From feeling whole?”

It's up to you the player to decide which aspect of The World you feel upon ending the game, but for what my opinion is worth, I am inclined to feel that the P3 protagonist is satisfied with their overall journey on the whole. 

The movie took the male protagonist on an interesting journey with that, starting with him being apathetic and blunt. He manifests his trauma over his parents death by shitting out the world, and having little interest in many things including a sense of self preservation. He mostly joined cause, what else is he going to be getting up to at midnight? He breaks out of his aloofness whenever his friends are in danger, as dammit he does not want to witness another tragic ending. He comes to care more about his life and bonds over the course of the movies which impacts his abilities to fight, as “holy shit guys! This is dangrous!” Over the course of the movies, his arc is about learning to live again, instead of just surviving the day to day. 

In game Protagonist is aloof, introverted, cool headed and talented. We know he uses proper grammar and tends to wander around for chats. He has good instincts, a preference for black comedy, and shares some catchphrases with Squall Leonheart. He likes video games, is at least somewhat sporty, and can play the violin, which implies that his caretakers were probably at least decently well off, as thats not a causal instrument to get into, but a pricy one. In game its easier to get social link rank ups by being enthusiastic, upbeat, kind, supportive and agreeable as you go out of your way to engage with them but as mentioned earlier, you can also go for the pessimistic, morbid, and lonely and barely engage at all. 

If we go by the Q incarnation he's blunt, apathetic, and straight to the point. He has a metabolism people would kill for, cool and quick under pressure situations, and somewhat aloof. He cares though. “

In contrast to MC, FemC is “bubbly, upbeat, chearful, and funny. She has a wider range of humor options including sarcasm, joking tones, and dead seriousness. She is outspoken, blunt, and literal when getting her point across. In contrast to MC who is reserved and concise, she is more outspoken, injecting into conversations where he would remain silent. She's also likelier to resort to violence when provoked, particularly in defense of her friends.

She's seen by her friends in SEES as tough and dependable, as a leader should be. She's also a masker in that while she always seems to be in good spirits, she hides her suffering and burdens. She's also sensitive to criticism. The team worries about her.

She lets her cheerful masks down around Ryouji, her dialogue tones shifting to a more subdued to depressed vibe when answering him.

Like MC she has an insane metabolism, and unlike him she seems more possessive of it, getting mad if swiped without asking.”

(Grabbed from wiki mostly, as they put it nicer then I do at late hours)

That all said, is FemC Minato if Minato was born a girl?

In a lot of ways, yes. Their shared circumstances make them more similar then not. She could be a different universes version of Minato who is female. People go for the direction of having them be siblings. But it is equally likely that she was simply in a different car, and the battle in 1999 went slightly differently. 

Are the differences between them purely gender socialization? 

I would say no. I could see female Minato being an introverted, aloof, and cool headed girl, just as I could see Katone (I guess), being a blunt, bubbly, extroverted boy who is masking his doubts. It probably would  not jive with everyone they meet, and might result in some diffhrent social links. You could speculate played a difference in how they delt with grief, and while that might have played a part in it, ultimately I think the big difference between them is that he is an introvert and she is an extrovert, and while that could be in part to expectations, it's more about social energy. 

Even as a girl, I could still see Minato getting socially exhausted fast and shutting down. Even as a guy I could see Katone socially thriving. 

Ultimately though, as a self insert, you shape how the protagonist interacts with the world, as they are meant to be a mirror you project into. And in P3 the characters gender is not super important. In P5 it would be a more loaded issue as the people of Tokyo would treat Joker differently as a girl with a criminal record, and the palace rulers in particular would have been grosser towards her as a woman. 

But Minato would probably be mostly the same as a girl, save maybe not becoming best buds with Junpei, as I think it would take him longer to respect her, nor does she slot as easily into rival, this quiet firm girl, he doesn't quite know what to do with her for awhile. 

Would she be as well received? Well, I can't say I'm an expert on what an audience wants, particularly a Japanese one, which is where the games target audience is, but I'm leaning towards no, or at least not at the games time of release. I can't think of any introverted, aloof, and coolheaded female protagonists off the top of my head, but tell me in the comments if you can think of any, readers! 

As a neat note, its febuary 29th. Not only is it a leap year, its the day P3 was realesed in The EU in 2008!

[littleladymab]

FebruarOC - Xochitl

OOOHHHHHH SUSHI MY BELOVED!!!!!! She is my character for our Werewolf game (which we're playing TOMORROW) it had been on hold for four solid years due to pandemic (we play (mostly) in person) and life/job stuff, but we finally got to start playing again on NYE! Nothing like sounding in the new year trying to remember a game you haven't played in four years ;;;; 

(It was fine I killed something in one hit) 

Xochitl is the 5'3" alpha of her pack and team dad (her beta, Rory, huge 6'something, is team mom). One of the first notes I made for her was that her fighting style is: (ง •̀_•́)ง !!! and a little bit of (*｀ω´)/――――― ●)´Дﾟ) I was nervous about picking up the role of alpha originally, but I made the choice after figuring that no one else would probably do it (and I was right lol) in the end, I'm really glad! I've had a lot of fun, and she's the right amount of impulsive (it is one of her flaws) to carry them forward, and I'm the right amount of "I can't stand awkward silences at the table" to keep conversations going. Whoops. 

She's from the Fiana tribe, though she's got a Hispanic name because of her father (Who was a Shadow Lord of Spaniard descent who left his tribe when he fell in love with Jael lmao), and she gets along most with her father who is also an Ahroun (meaning they're real good at fighting). Her mom had another child in a first... not marriage? I don't think they got married, but she had another child before she married Arturo and had Xochitl, but Xochitl never knew her sibling that well as they disappeared and presumed dead when she was still very young. 

And by presumed I mean they actually did die, but they're back now! Hah hah! And working for the Autumn King, which, you know, isn't a real thing, so totally normal and okay and nothing wrong here, amiright???? 

Well, We're going to find out tomorrow, because we're totally going to finally kill the autumn king and save Zeke's mom and ????? something Xochitl's sibling. 

the nickname Sushi comes from when the pack went to a bar and we met a group of Fae for the first time -- we were all being super paranoid about the Fae and you KNOW you're not supposed to give them your real name, except that Grace (the GM) said one of them was FC as Janelle Monae and I made some sort of involuntary sound and Grace asked "was that you or Xochitl?" and I went "(makes ionno sound)". But in her all her awkward grace, Xochitl introduces herself as 'Sushi'.

And then Ashanti (Janelle Monae) just won't stop rolling 10's when interacting with Xochitl and becomes instantly SMITTEN which now means that Xochitl is dating a really powerful fae lord of the winter court! And she's promised to bring back the head of the false king for her girlfriend! I'm so normal about them. 

AND! ONCE THEY GET BACK FROM AUTUMN! There's something in the sewers that has been encroaching upon Rat territory, and well it's not like Xochitl and Remy are a thing, but also, Xochitl has two hands and I wouldn't be mad if she and Remy flirt a little hehe BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY, She's been keeping in touch with Remy (who is also team tattoo) about the goings on, and at the moment the ratkin have it under control, but Xochitl is gonna help investigate and deal with it later. 

Now, generally, the pack is an investigation agency called City's Eyes! through a few different series of events during their investigations, everyone did get a gold lightning-scar tattoo on their body (hence the Team Tattoo) -- this marked them all as chosen by these lost totems, and so one of our big quests was to go and save all these lost totems! Xochitl switched from Clashing Boom Boom to Quetzalcoatl as a result, which is like, her learning some responsibility and really taking ownership of being a leader and not just going about it as pell-mell as she had been. 

She has been one of my favorite characters to play, and even with our 4 year gap, the one that I've played the longest (we've been playing since like 2018). It's so easy to slip back into her! And even tho she no longer has her chaos twin that was Theane, she now has another Ahroun in Tali who is also more Mature(TM) than Theane was and I think that'll help keep Xochitl on the right track! Especially because right now she's distressed because her estranged "I thought you were dead but now you're working for someone who is legitimately insane and you're going mad but occasionally you remember who I am to you and try to warn me" sibling is there and she REALLY wants this king's head to give to Ashanti. She only just met Tali but insofar feels like she can rely on her! And of course, she can always rely on Rory and Theo to help protect the others. 

Now, forgive me, I have a lot of playlists and a lot of pinboards for her, so I'll end with all of those! I've also uploaded her character sheet and her profile for free to patreon (which includes her gifts and weapons). Please know that when I roll to hit, I'm rolling a minimum of 9 dice, and then if I hit, WOAH BUDDY. What a satisfying sound!! 

Pinboards: 

Xochitl's Board 

Xochitl and Ashanti's Board 

"We went to a fancy party and all I got was second place in a tournament and also this fancy pinboard of outfit inspo"

Playlists: 

Xochitl's character playlist 

Xochitl's "Workout" playlist 

Rowan's playlist (Xochitl's sibling) 

City's Eyes playlist 

Xochitl and Ashanti playlist (ver1)

Xochitl and Ashanti playlist (bodyguard AU edition)

I told you: normal. 

Wish us luck storming the castle and killing the false king of autumn!!! 

[kakusu-shipping]

YOOOO NEW EMILES JUST DROPPED!! Okay okay, so what are the individual ships for your new Pokemon s/is??? And also what are their origins? Is it like a same backstory, different timelines kinda deal or completely different backstories??

Thankyou Devin for being excited for the New Mes I create like monthly kjgksjgk Always a joy.

All 3 of these S/Is are completly separate persons that I had to do some MAJOR fanagling of story to keep from Interacting because I agree with you, writing yourself interacting with yourself is. Weird. And hard. fdkgjfdkj

The main Story S/I doesn't have a major romantic ship, he's more about the Platonics with Arven, Penny, Nemona, and Team Star. Though I do have a crush on my Armarouge Charlos, so I imagine post story they eventually get together.

My Teacher's Pet S/I was originally a NSFW X Reader I'd drafted up for a School Staff polycule concept I had that... Just kind of developed into more of an S/I as I made myself fall in love with the teachers... I could never write NSFW fic anyway so it's better this way in my opinion.

The DLC S/I is self shipped with Kieran and eventually Drayton and I talk about his backstory Here (No DLC spoilers)

I actually made my Main Story Self Insert LAST year around this same time, that post can be found Here, and nothing major has really changed about him I don't think, but I like his story so I'll tell it again in further detail under the cut!

Emile is the grandson of Director Clavell, and as a child spent all his time either in the lighthouse lab watching his grandfather and Sada work, or scrounging around outside with his brother (not biologically) Arven for any item they could sell for change.

Emile's first Pokemon was a wandering Gimmighoul he had befriended on top of the lighthouse. He was determined to give his Pokemon a chest full of treasure he could be proud of, and put a lot of work into collecting all sorts of coins for his Gimmighoul. He even hand made him a chest to put it all in!

Eventually, Sada and Clavell's research took them into the Great Crater, which meant Emile and Arven weren't allowed to visit them as often. To keep the two out of trouble (following them into the crater unsupervised), the two were enrolled in Naranja Academy, and everything was fine.. for a while.

Emile was Arven's rock when the older realized his mom cared more about her research than him, when he noticed Clavell came out of the crater to visit Emile much more often than his mom did for him, when they went into the crater and it was only Clavell there to greet them, to escort them lower, to take a break from work to make sure the strong Pokemon in the crater didn't hurt them.

This made Emile a lot more protective over Arven. So when he got called into the Director's Office and scolded for how long his hair was by the new Student Council President, Emile didn't hesitate to retaliate.

At first, he was just petty. He grew his hair longer, dyed it bright pinks and oranges and blues, switching it up every day. He'd step on the back of Giacomo's shoes at he walked to class, or shoulder check him just hard enough to make him drop his books. He didn't hurt him physically, just defied him and pushed him around a bit.

Then other students got involved. Suddenly there was a whole group of guys around Emile with long deep purple hair and their uniform shirts unbuttoned. When he shoved Giacomo, someone else was there to shove him the other way, passing him around like a game of catch.

Anyone who stood up for Giacomo became a target, tripped in the halls, missing gym clothes, spilled lunches, and eventually.. stolen money.

That pompous president deserved it anyway, Emile had convinced himself as he filled his Gimmighoul chest with more coins than he ever could have gotten on his own. He'd convinced himself he was in the right, that that guy's rules were unfair. He didn't even notice when Arven stopped coming to school, or the looks his Gimmighoul gave him sat upon a throne of thievery

On the day of operation star, Emile's Gimmighoul left him, taking the first coin Emile had even given him, and vanishing overnight. Emile had no Pokemon to battle back against Team Star with. He was one of the first to retreat.

For a full year Emile didn't go back to school. He didn't talk to Arven. He didn't visit his grandfather. He just laid in his room with an empty Gimmighoul chest...

Until Clavell became the new Director.

He urged Emile to come back to school, even going so far as to get him a new Pokemon Partner, a noble loyal knight who wouldn't leave him. Charlos, the Charcadet.

Against his better judgement Emile returned to school with the plan to go as under the radar as possible, and stay out of the way of all the kids he's wronged.. Until Charlos dragged him into Operation Starfall.

And that's about it outside of canon events, which unfold about the same just with a little more resistance by the protagonist. It was hard to work with an S/I who wouldn't wanna play along with the story as is, so I gave him 3 Pokemon that'd drag him along the plot.

Charlos for Starfall Street, Koriadon for Path of Legends, and a Rotom Phone that REALLY loves to fight for Victory Road. He should probably have more teammates but I like these three.

[xoxothesubwayfugitive]

Lucius is often characterized in fic as the ultimate dominant with a ton of sexual experience, but I have trouble writing him that way (even though I love reading it) because I view him as so loyal to Narcissa. Even though we know they are slightly older than many other Marauders era parents, we still have to assume they were married quite young and probably were dating at Hogwarts, so I don't really see him as having had an opportunity to sow his wild oats before their marriage, and I don't see him or Narcissa as wanting to open their relationship or wanting to cheat on one another. There's just not room in my imagining of them for him to have acquired a significant BDSM background beyond run of the mill rough sex and a little bit of a controlling personality, so even when I'm writing him with my OC after Narcissa's death, he's quite hesitant to push her to her limits. Of course he knows what he's doing (😈) but ultimately he's afraid of causing harm and he probably doesn't know how to be fully immersed in a "scene", preferring instead to just be a caring partner who will sometimes branch into something more intense.

Which is why they need Severus, who has had nothing but time to learn about every sexual deviance in the book, to join them and be the "bad guy", something you can read about here and here. Sample below the cut

"I want…" She hesitated, and looked over to where Severus was waiting patiently, almost bored. She would have been afraid to make eye contact with anyone else at that point, but she knew he would be expecting it. That he wouldn't shy away when he had decided he wanted something. "I want Professor Snape to join us. To teach me things." Snape didn't flinch, or smile, but she chanced to break away from his eyes and look to his crotch, where she saw a bulge that made her involuntarily spread her legs.

Lucius lifted her up by her elbow at that. "Go stand in front of us."

Felicity was wearing a fairly modest spring outfit; a blouse with a small V-neck and ruffled collar, and a mid-length satin skirt in deep teal. She felt both prudish and half naked under their scrutiny.

"Lucius tells me you call him Daddy, Felicity," Severus began, adjusting himself to sit more upright as he did so. He observed her over the rim of his glass as she scrambled for a reply.

"It's not…it's just a name. We don't do the other stuff. It's just something I like to say." She was almost pleading.

"Relax. It's sweet," he replied. She couldn't believe she was hearing him call something sweet, and seemingly mean it. "So he can be Daddy, and I'm Professor."

"And what does that make me?" she asked.

"What are you usually?"

Felicity twisted her fingers together behind her back. "My name, usually. "Love". It's really not – it's not like a game or anything."

"Lucius never calls you a slut?"

Her breath hitched, and she chanced her first glance to her husband, who was smirking a bit, although she could tell it wasn't malicious.

"Yes, Professor. Sometimes." Felicity could feel her chest reddening.

"Is there anything else he calls you sometimes?" Snape sneered.

"He calls me a good girl."

"And you like that, don't you?" he taunted.

"Yes, Professor."

Lucius leaned forward in his seat and brushed his fingers along the sensitive skin of her wrist. "Tell him how wet it makes you, love," he urged gently. Felicity swallowed hard and then returned Snape's gaze again.

"I love being his good girl, Professor," she acquiesced. It was easier when Lucius asked it of her.

"You submit to him so nicely," Severus observed. Lucius laughed and Felicity turned to smile with him; it was a joke between them that she was usually bitterly stubborn, only able to fall into the role of docile wife when they were completely alone and they had both switched off their normal thoughts in favor of pure sex. Even then, it was challenging for him to push her when she resisted, and challenging for her not to resist.

[hazukiyouka]

Personal Impression on DMMD Flashback 2023

First of all, even though I could pass through the region block thingy, but I had to set the video quality on auto or else the buffering time would drive me mad. So the result was, sometimes I got a super clear images then suddenly could switched to blurry ones. Which is kinda annoying cause I couldn't focus on their faces. 🙃

Anyway, I'm not really good at writing in Tumblr, so probably I'll just straight out pointing my impressions. Yes, this is my personal take after watching Virus & Trip route live streaming. I'll try my best not to spoil everything. 😄

Nothing really changed at the first part of the story. It just brought back the memories. Except that it wasn't Seichan as Aoba. 🥲

I should say both Seichan and Nao had their hit-and-miss parts. And strangely I feel like they can complement each other. Like, there were some parts where I thought Seichan did it better, or vice versa.

Everyone who were back to their respective roles really upgraded their game. Since I was watching this route, I think Tominaga Yuya really brought out the "quiet madness" of Virus.

(A bit) SPOILER ALERT: this ViTri route covered their Re:connect bad end story. Yes, most of it.

The second part where the story branched was really DENSE!! It felt like they try to squeeze the entire ViTri bad end into a single scene. Well, of course we just couldn't ask for more "detailed scenes", are we? 😌

Even so, I think Nao did well in this. I want to praise him for his courage to go...... uhmm.... shirtless.... on stage.

The interpretative dance at "those scenes" was appealing to me. I mean, it felt delicate and kinda suppressing. I like Nao's expressions here, especially when his eyes started to went dead. Uumm, please excuse my do-S part... lol

The ending was just like the game where Aoba was resigned to his fate. After that, we got all casts dancing to EVIL MASCULINE song (in which we can see it roaming around Twitter).

Overall, I'm quite impressed with this new route and how they performed it. As for the casting, I still think that Nao will be more suitable in portraying Sly Blue. That boy is surely sharp. While Seichan was softer, but I felt that he was a little bit overdid in some parts.

And finallyyyy! Though I'm, myself, still quite biased to Seichan but so sorry that I won't tolerate any slanders toward Nao. He had worked so hard and did a great job in this. Thankfully, he seems pretty calm and stays positive. So let's be kind to him~ 💙

[bramblebush2]

Me and my friends are playing Danganronpa: Lapse >:]

We're at the start of chapter three and we're kinda in love rn.. We obviously do voice acting and since the cast is comprised of 12 from what we've seen it was easy to split amongst us with 4 per person :D

I'm Kanon, Missy, Art and Ashley :3 we have such stupid voices for them but they're the only ones I can associate them with ..

Kanon has an annoyed posch accent that I used for Sirius when playing Witchs Heart with them as well

Missy is.. very british

Art is just my normal voice but super energetic

Ashley has a cowboy accent because,, horse girl

We didn't bother searching up nationalities beforehand which was bothersome when we gave someone else a British accent who suddenly started speaking French 😭😭

Anyways danganronpa Lapse is peak..

Here's just random thoughts that contain some spoilers until ch3 under the cut

So so far we've played until the bad end from ch3 and... omg that caught us off guard.

We live a while away from each other, so we can't get together as much as we want. When we do hang out, we love playing visual novels and doing stupid voices over them. We've played Yttd, Witchs Heart, a bit of Ace Attorney, In Stars and Time and Raincode like this :D ( feel free to share some recommendations of visual novels with some larger main casts for us to play :3 )

So rambling aside God that bad end scared the shit out of us. My house is close to a train station so a bit before the train arrived the others had packed up and we were kinda addicted so we decided to stretch a little bit and play one more scene. Suddenly the fucking light switch off and the mc just fcking dies?? Jumpscare. Then it said Kanon lost and while walking to the station we could.not.stop yapping about that ending. What did Kanon lost mean? Was it her who killed the mc or someone else? (Don't answer this btw lmao)

Anyways aside from that, other thoughts. When we saw the chapter title for chapter 3 and the cg that accompanied it we immediately pointed out it depicted a marigold. A marigold being Kanon's flower. Super suspicious.... We're afraid she'll be either the victim or the murderer this chapter. It was the same with Pandora in the first chapter with the French title and stuff.

Before that we were speculating that maybe the creator might throw a curveball and have Echo kill someone while not in the right heads pace after Ashley's death. When the whole scene with Missy and the Dagger appeared we were convinced that they would. Bur they seem to have recovered?? Maybe I'll swallow my words later when we continue playing though..

We are convinced that Forte will be killed at some point and that Sei will kill someone. Not for any particular reason except that's just the vibes we got?

Damn we're missing Cyrus rn.. he and his stupid name (when we saw the name Cyrus Suryc we immediately said: evil, and we were right, kinda)

So when we play games we first go through the roster of characters and sort who voices who among ourselves. This unintentionally lead to some spoilers a lot of the time. Like Pandora's sister being listed among the character roster despite her not having appeared yet and us thinking Zero was just some participant when he's actually the monokuma of this game kinda.

Anyways so this is our character sorting. Just calling them by their online aliases:

Me-

Kanon

Ashley

Missy

Art

Mag-

Lyle

Zero

Pandora

Cyrus

Eve (not listed but she got an extra character since Zero isn't technically a participant as far as we know)

Ketchup (girl idk what else to call you

Forte

Echo

Sei

Pandora's sister who still hasn't appeared

If you have played the game, you've probably noticed thar our division is terrible 😭 2 of my characters have murdered 2 Mag's and Ketchups characters are all alive and well (tho we have no idea where Pandora's sister is)

Also damn we were in super denial about it being Art in ch1. He rly didn't seem like he would die this early. Again, based off of nothing but vibes from us lmao. We basically called Ashley right away when we found out she was alive. We haven't found the third victim yet, we first went with the Lyle and Kanon group which led to our unfortunate demise 😢 if the third victim is anyone other then Kanon then were certain she was the killer but if it's not we have no clue. We like to bet who is the killer before the chapter even starts so we all got our money on Echo this time but now that they're recovering we're not so sure anymore.. We'll see

I love yapping about this stuff