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harmoonix · 3 months

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💒 FUTURE SPOUSE ASTEROID OBSERVATIONS/NOTES💒

~ Asteroid Groom Observations 5129 ~

~Cause I love you for infinity~

ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ

Before Reading the posts: ❌❌❌❌

- Harmonious aspects:

trine 💞

conjunction ✨

sextile 💅🏼

quintile😻

Bi-quintile💒

Parallel 🔥

- Harsh/Challenging aspects:

square 🤭

conjunction (conjunction has the the energy of both harsh and harmonious) 😽

opposition 🙊

semi-square 🫦

quincunx (Inconjunct) 🧚🏼‍♀️

- Neutral Aspects:

semi - sextile 👼🏼

- Also don't forget to check your sidereal and vedic charts as well if you relate more with them!❤️❤️

Asteroid Code: 5129 ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ

Groom aspecting the inner planets + the ascendant 💒😍

I n f o: Groom asteroid works perfectly if you like men no matter the gender, is like the asteroid Juno (3) but instead of your marriage traits it will show your future husband traits and personality, love sign, attraction, lust etc..JUST AS A REMINDER: If you are not attracted or like men and you like women instead watch over the asteroid Briede code: (19029) IT WILL manifest in the same way as groom!! (The description of the following placements)

💒 Groom sextile/trine/conjunct/quintile or bi-quintile the Sun = Husband will have a shining personality, attractive, definitely put on a pedestal by other people and liked a lot

💒 Groom in square or opposition to Sun = The husband will still be in the light but they can tend to have a hurt ego and tends to have narcissism energy

(💒 Groom in Leo/Groom in the 5th house can have the same traits)

💒 Groom aspecting harmoniously the Moon = Definitely the most generous/soft/kind human being ever, they can be very connected with you emotionally and very gentle I don't know how to describe it perfectly is like you are touched by an angel

💒 Groom harshly aspecting the Moon can manifest as the native spouse being a bit "cold" or "harsh" at feelings, I think they have it a bit hard to express their feelings at first and need to feel safe or secured around their partners

💒( Groom in Cancer/4th house can have the same traits)

💒 Groom trine/sextile/conjunct/quintile or bi-quintile Mercury = The spouse will definitely 100% love to talk with you, talking with you about their day, what makes them happy, their hobbies and vice versa

💒 Groom square/opposition to Mercury = Your Husband can be the typo of person who may like to talk a lot, to share things with you to make you feel good but they may not be confident enough in their speech, they can also be shy at first but kind in their words

(💒Groom in Virgo/Gemini or the 3rd/6th house can share the same traits) 💒

💒 Groom trine/sextile/conjunct/quintile or bi-quintile Venus = Your spouse is gifted with a lot of love, a lot romantism, a lot of eroticism aswell. They can see the beauty in everything and everyone

💒 Groom sqaure/opposition Venus = Your spouse will definitely get clingy a lot, they may love or have a desire for physical touch. May feel better in your company, sometimes they can get a bit jealous and over protective.

(💒Groom in Taurus/Libra/2nd or 7th house may share the same traits)💒

💒 Groom trine/sextile/conjunct/quintile or bi - quintile Mars = Wow.. this feels like having some type of warrior as your spouse, they are very confident/strong/ambitious sometimes jealousy can hit them sometimes, very independent spouse,clingy with you but tough/rough with the others type (idk how to describe it perfectly 😭)

💒 Groom square/opposition Mars = The spouse will fight for you and will feel the need of you a lot, they can have a short temper, sometimes they're like in a rush of things and forget about everything. The spouse will definitely do the things their own way and sometimes they can be a bit stubborn!

(💒 Groom in Aries/1st house may share the same traits)💒

💒 Groom aspecting the ascendant (all aspects)= The spouse will definitely be like a hubby material, very clingy and very attracted to you, you can have a lot of things in common, share the same hobbies, passions, dreams. You can even be soulmates or twin flames. This person will get attached to you quickly and you can feel like you are meant for eachother

Groom aspecting the outer planets, chiron and Midheaven 😍💒

💒 Groom trine/sextile/conjunct/quintile/ bi - quintile Jupiter = The spouse can be the most optimistic person on earth. They're a pure joy and full of blessings and abundence, they can be focused on self-improvement and worth💒

💒 Groom square/opposite Jupiter = The spouse can be like a teacher to you. Your relationship may grow from fragile to strong in a fast way and lessons about accepting eachother 💒

(💒Groom in Sagittarius/Groom in the 9th house may share the same traits)💒

💒 Groom trine/sextile/conjunct/quintile/bi - quintile Saturn = The spouse can be very mature for their age, respected, succesful (maybe in their career), they can have some /leader/boss figure energy

💒 Groom square/opposition Saturn = The husband can be stubborn, they can deal with family trauma, they can be cold when you first met them and tends to have a hard time to open up

(💒Groom in Capricorn/10th house may share the same traits)💒

💒 Groom trine/sextile/conjunct/quintile/ bi - quintile Pluto = The spouse and the relationship overall will transform you both, like you evolve together, they (the spouse) can definitely be possesive and share some kind of obsession

💒 Groom square/opposition Pluto = The spouse can be obsessive, over - protective and jealous sometimes these traits can be highly toxic if they are not healed, they can have a lot of secrets, they can hide things etc...

(💒 Groom in Scorpio/8th house can share the same traits)💒

💒 Groom trine/sextile/conjunct/quintile/bi - quintile Neptune = The husband can be spiritual. Following certain beliefs. Maybe even religion, they can be spiritual too, the spouse and you can share a spiritual connection

💒 Groom square/opposite Neptune = The spouse can overthink sometimes, not being sure of their ideas but creative enough, highly spiritual but not aware of their intuition, not sure about their religion or belief and confused about the society

(💒 Groom in Pisces/12th house can share the same traits💒)

💒 Groom trine/sextile/conjunct/quintile/ bi - quintile Uranus = The husband will definitely be or feel different from the rest, something is unique and striking about them, they are very open minded and logical, electric and empathic

💒 Groom square/opposite Uranus = The husband will definitely have the need/urge to express themselves through things other may find weird or unusual, out of the crowd person yet very unique. Very fast in thinking!!

(💒 Groom in Aquarius/11th house can share the same traits) 💒

💒 Groom harmoniously aspecting the Midheaven can indicate a spouse that can help you during your path in your career/job/potential succes they can also indicate spouse getting a good job

💒 Groom harshly aspecting the Midheaven, this aspect can be a bit tricky, for example you can be known for dating someone at your job/career and that person could've help you to improve your job/The spouse can have a different job than you ans that can makes it difficult for you to find time for eachother

General Observations: 💝🌝

- Groom at 0° degrees can make the native spouse to be something new for them, like a breath of fresh air, their spouse will definitely bring them good things along the way

- Groom Retrogade (Rx) if you have this asteroid in retrograde it can indicate a lesson you need to learn together with your spouse, it can be karmic at some points or the spouse will teach you something

- Groom aspecting Juno/Having them in the same house the spouse can definitely dream a lot about marrying you or thinking you are the right one for them

- Groom aspecting asteroid Vesta (4), this can get a bit intimate, your spouse can be your first one to have sexual contact with or vice versa, you can be theirs (It's just an indicator it doesn't always happen)

- Groom in the 8th/9th/10th/11th houses the spouse can bring abundance/luck/new opportunities in your life

- Groom at 29° degrees will definitely manifest as a spouse being known by others like a spouse who got into the spotlight/having a big circle of people

- Just a personal observation from me to you guys I have my groom in my 1st house at 1° (Double Aries Energy). I didn't met my specific person yet but all the ex partner I had in the past was VERY dominant just like a bomb (💣)over me and I think it had most of an Aries energy/ Just in case someone also has the same placements (I also know some of you like when I share some of my placements because you feel seen/understood and I totally get it 💝)

- Groom in 6th house, your spouse just makes your every day better. They will be or are already your sunshine and your everything

- Groom in the 4th house can makes the perfect parent (not sure 100%) but the spouse is very in touch with the thought of creating a family

- Groom aspecting Lilith (h12) in case you guys have it, is a very sensual placement, the spouse can bring sensuality in your life (If you have some of these placements in your 5th house there can be a case for you or for your spouse to not want kids)

- Groom in Aquarius/11th house can met their spouses in online/social media (maybe even dating apps??)

- Groom aspecting asteroid Eros (433), the spouse is an hopeless romantic, probably will admire you a lot, tends to be erotic

- Those with Groom in the 2nd house or Taurus will have an spoiled spouse or an spouse who will spoil them (is not always about the money they can just buy little gifts for you)

- Groom in the 8th house/12th house Pisces/Scorpio, breaking bed scene from the series Twilight, that's all I can say

- Sometimes Groom aspecting Saturn can indicate a spouse who can be older than you or more mature/serious

- Groom in the 7th house makes the perfect partner, romantic, sexy, attractive, lovely

- Groom in Libra Degrees 7°, 19° the spouse definitely can have a good style/at clothing

- Groom in Aries Degrees 1°, 13°, 25° degrees the spouse can be very influenced by you or vice versa you influenced by them

- Groom in the 3rd house will definitely have the most amazing long lasting conversations with their spouses, definitely laughing a lot and making a lot of jokes/flirting too

- Groom in the 1st/4th/8th/10th/12th house the spouse definitely plays a big role in your life

- Groom aspecting Pluto will have a clingy/attached/possesive spouse but coming with a magnetism

- Groom at 9° 21° degrees the spouse will be very carefree and wildfree, they will seek for freedom and adventure and I see this as you 2 going to travel together

- Groom at 11°, 23° degrees can be extremely humanitarian, helping others, trying to do good things for people and brining peace

- Groom in the 5th house/Leo the spouse can sometimes act like a kid or be childish around you, and that's a sign they feel comfortable around you

- Groom aspecting Chiron suggest a healing point into the relationship! Your spouse could've been hurt a lot, or had some sort of trauma, you can help each other and heal in the same time

✨ Y'all...the post is finally done, but my fingers hurt from typing..I literally worked for this post all day and I tried to not rush it, because I knew a lot of people were asking for groom asteroid observations and is finally here some months later.... after the first post about the groom asteroid discovering ✨🧚🏼‍♀️

🔥 I honestly hope this post gave you all at least a bit of hint or an idea about your future specific person, how you'll know it will be them? First start with a lasting relationship (long one) definitely tied souls last for long and good 🔥

✨ Stay blessed you all ✨

H a r m o o n i x ❤️

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elwintersoldado · 2 years

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#no bc he said #i want to make you c*m but you’re too loud #bc we’re at his friends house #thanks for the challenge tho #s squared

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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 8 months

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Scheming - Carlos Sainz

You loved your job, and today was no exception. You were Carlos' press officer, and you were on the way back to the hotel with him and Charles after a day of filming some C squared challenges.

You were all tired and ready to head to bed early, ready for FP1 and 2 tomorrow. The car pulled up outside, and the three of you wandered into the lobby and you spotted your suitcases on a trolley going up into the elevator.

The three of you lined up at the check-in desk, and you told her your names and how long you'd be staying. "You're wanting three rooms, right?" the woman chirped, and you could tell by her face that something had gone wrong.

"Yes, one for each of us," you said, tapping your fingers on the cold marble of the counter.

"The room that we originally had you in, Miss Y/L/N, has been having construction done on it, as it flooded a day or two ago. We are really busy at the moment, so we only have two rooms left," she said, glancing between the three of you.

"That's alright, I guess we're sharing, Charles," Carlos said. There was no point in getting annoyed because that wouldn't solve anything. "OK, you are in 216 and 217," she said, handing you and Charles a key card to the room.

"Thank you," you smiled, turning and walking away to the vacant elevator. Behind you, Charles leant into Carlos and whispered, "I am about to do you a huge favour, mate,"

"What?" Carlos asked. Before Charles responded, he set off running to the elevator, nearly knocking you over in the process. "Charles!" Carlos yelled, turning a few heads in the lobby.

Charles just smirked and waved as the elevator doors closed and he ascended into the hotel. Carlos also set off, skipping up the stairs. "Carlos?" you said, confused out of your mind.

"Vamos, Y/N!" he collared back, carrying on taking 3 stairs at a time. You ran on, and arrived at your floor to see Carlos sprinting down the corridor as Charles closed the door to his room, his bags wheeling in behind.

"Charles, open the door!" Carlos shouted, wrapping his fist on the dark wood of the hotel room door. "Ti sto facendo un favore!" Charles shouted from inside with a high-pitched giggle. You understood a bit of Italian, but not enough to know what he fully said.

Something about a favour.

You slotted the keycard into the reader and walked into the room, groaning at the sight of only one bed off to the right. You hoped Charles would let Carlos in. Well, that was what you told yourself you were hoping.

Carlos wandered in after you, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Could you go and grab me a mint tea with honey from downstairs?" he said, throwing a few Euro notes at you and pacing the length of the room.

"Yeah, sure," you said, knowing he was phoning Charles to have a very strongly worded conversation with him. "Get yourself whatever you want as well," he told you as you closed the door behind you.

You took the elevator down to the lobby and took a little look around since you thought you'd give Carlos as much time as you could to talk to Charles. There was a fountain in the garden out the back and it was so soothing to look at.

After spending a bit of time gazing at the fountain, you walked back into the hotel and navigated over to the cafe. It had a very green aesthetic, plenty of plants dangling off the walls and on the tables. Your eyes scanned the menu to choose your drink, and you also bought a few cookies for you and Carlos to share when you got back.

Meanwhile, Carlos held his phone to his ear, every ring making him even more agitated. "Hello mate, how are you?" Charles cockily greeted when he picked up the phone.

"Charles, let me in the room please," he sighed, too tired to pick an argument with him.

"I'm doing you a favour, Carlos. Think of this as a bonding experience," Charles told him. The Monganesque knew the Spaniard was head over heels for you, and he knew you felt the same. It the was the way he looked at you, the way he talked about you.

When Carlos told Charles about how he felt, it wasn't a surprise since he already knew. "What if she's uncomfortable with this? Did you not think about that?"

"Carlos. Trust me. She's fine with it," Charles smirked, fully intending on getting room service for dinner so that Carlos wouldn't have a chance to get into the room. "I hate you," Carlos scoffed.

"Your welcome," Charles responded, putting the phone down and leaving Carlos to simmer before you got back.

Back down in the lobby, you had just collected Carlos' tea and your frappuccino, along with the cookies. You stood outside the door for a few minutes, trying to listen out for Carlos' voice. You were met with silence, so you knocked on the door as you had left the keycard inside the room.

Footsteps approached the door, before it swung open. "Here's your change," you said, holding the coins out to him. "Keep it," he shook his head, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Here's your tea, and I got us some cookies to share," you told him, handing him the plastic to-go cup and the paper bag that crinkled. "Thanks. Sorry about Charles, I don't know what's gotten into him," he said, not wanting to tell you the actual reason that Charles had locked you out of the room.

"Don't worry about it, this gives us more time to talk about the press conferences you've got to do for Silverstone next week," you told him, and he rolled his eyes.

"Yay, my favourite thing to talk about," he sarcastically said, earning giggles from you. "What do you want to do for dinner?" he asked, immediately averting the attention away from the media duties he'd have.

"Whatever you want, I'm not overly bothered. I'm quite tired, so staying in sounds good," you explained, ignoring the lack of a couch or anywhere else for you to sleep. It wasn't that you didn't want to share a bed with Carlos, but it would be extremely unprofessional.

"Here's the room service menu, get whatever you want," he said, leaning in closer to read the menu with you. "I'll have a carbonara, please,"

"A carbonara. Really?" he asked, cocking one of his eyebrows. "There are so many classic, Spanish dishes, and you are choosing a carbonara. You could have a gazpacho or tostas de tomate y jamón, and you pick a carbonara?"

"I'll have tostas de tomate y jamón then," you scoffed, trying to keep a straight face.

"You don't deserve the jamón. It should never be the second choice," he groveled, clutching at his heart. "Just get the food, Carlos," you told him, falling back onto the bed with a soft thud.

"The jamón deserves better," he mumbled, glancing over his shoulder as a huge smile spread across your face. Maybe you did deserve the jamón.

Once you'd finished your dinner, which purely consisted of Spanish dishes, Carlos traipsed back over to the room next door to try and get back in his room. You had unpacked your suitcase already, but Carlos' still sat in the entrance.

"Charles, come on. You've had your fun," Carlos knocked on the door to try and tempt Charles out. You were ready to wheel his suitcase through once Carlos had barged through the door. Charles opened the door a crack, his head peeping out of the opening.

"Carlos, you will be fine my friend," Charles smiled, and his enjoyment of this was making Carlos angry. Swiftly, Carlos tried to push the door open, but Charles was one step ahead.

He had the chain on the door, so there was no way he was getting in without breaking the door. Carlos tried to undo the chain by sticking his hand through the gap, but Charles closed the door before he could.

Coming back to your room, Carlos sat down on the bed. "Sorry, he's not budging," he smiled, the reality that you would be sharing a hotel room for the night was sinking in. You had become really good friends since you had been working together, but this was going to be the first time you were spending this much time in such a close proximity.

"Don't worry about it, I'll take the floor," you said, taking some of the pillows off of one side of the bed and setting them out to make a makeshift bed on the floor. "No, you won't. I will," Carlos said, snatching the pillows off of you and setting them out how he wanted them.

"Carlos, you have to drive tomorrow, the last thing you need is a sore back and stiff neck," you told him, snatching the pillows back off him. "Fine, if you're going to be stubborn," he started with a smirk, "We can share the bed,"

"Yeah, sure," you nodded as your heartbeat picked up in speed rapidly. You liked Carlos, that was for certain, but you worked with him. That was it. And now you were going to be sharing a bed with him.

Carlos, on the other hand, had been desperate to ask you this since Charles had locked him out a few hours ago. "I'm going to go and get changed," you said, grabbing your pyjamas out of the drawer and heading into the bathroom.

You picked the least-risque set that you had, even if most of them consisted of tank tops and short shorts. You washed your face and tied your hair back, then changing into your pyjamas. You walked back out to see Carlos in a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, and you tried not to let your eyes wander.

While you put your other clothes away, Carlos' eyes couldn't do anything but wander. They raked over your figure and he had to turn away before you noticed him staring. "I'm going to head to bed now, but you can watch TV and stuff still. Once I'm asleep, I'm out until morning," you told him, getting in the side that you had originally gotten the pillows from.

"I will too, tomorrow is going to be a long day," Carlos agreed, getting in next to you and switching the lamp off, leaving the room in complete darkness. A silence settled over you, and you pulled yourself into a tiny ball as far to the edge of the bed as possible. "Goodnight, Y/N," you heard through the darkness.

"Goodnight, Carlos," you quietly responded. A few minutes later, the room was lit up for a few seconds as Carlos received a text. You heard him shuffle around to read the message. Carlos found that it was from Charles.

'Goodnight Carlito ;)' it read, and Carlos just sighed and put the phone down so he couldn't disturb you anymore.

Carlos led awake for a while, but you had fallen asleep already. If someone had told him he would be staying in the same room as his press officer while Charles soundly slept by himself next door, he would have laughed at them.

Every now and then, you would move or turn slightly, and you eventually turned to face Carlos. Through the darkness, he could make out the outline of all of your features on your face. You looked so peaceful, so pure.

If he could have paused time and just watched you, he would have. He was settled, his eyes glued to your face as you shifted again. But this time, you slung an arm over him and nestled yourself into his side.

He froze. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to push you off because he didn't want to risk waking you up, but he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable when you woke up draped over him. After a solid twenty minutes of his mind racing, he decided to leave you there.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, he felt a weight on his chest. He opened his eyes again to see you nearly lying on top of him with your head snuggled into him. "Oh mierda," he muttered not knowing where to put his arms.

He knew where he wanted to put them, but he didn't know how far was too far. He worked with you, afterall. He allowed himself to loosely wrap them around you, before finally falling asleep.

When he woke up the next day, he found himself and you in the exact same position. But, your legs were now tangled together and you were snuggled even closer in to him. He knew if he moved, he would probably wake you up.

He still had around an hour until he actually needed to get up, but he wouldn't be going back to sleep, so he just decided to lay there. As he thought about the day and what set up he was thinking of running, he didn't notice that his fingers had tangled themselves in your hair and were softly playing with it.

The movement startled you, but you kept your eyes closed as you tried to remember who this could have been. You knew you had gone to sleep in the same bed as Carlos, but this surely wasn't him, right?

You finally opened your eyes and looked up to see Carlos staring straight ahead as his fingers resumed massaging your scalp. "Hi," you shortly said, his gaze swiftly averting down to you. Neither of you made any attempt to move away.

"Good morning," he smiled, looking down at you. Neither of you knew what to do, but neither of you minded. "Deberíamos compartir habitación de hotel más a menudo," he mumbled.

"No hablo Español," you said, not understanding a word of what he said.

"I know," he smiled, and your heart sank to think that this would be the first and last time you got to wake up in Carlos' arms. For a moment, you ignored that you worked with this guy and he could get you fired in an instant. For a moment, you savoured every second you had.

A/N - This is for the lovely @nous-aurons-toujours-paris-kid ! It is the other one that you requested, but I did the Mick one first. Thank you for your suggestions, your ideas are amazing and I adore writing them. Keep them coming ;). If anyone else has any suggestions, I'd be happy to hear them!

|masterlist|

#f1 #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 imagines #fluff #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagines #cs55 #carlos sainz fluff

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rollforfelicity · 1 year

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Why Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves Didn't Use D&D Combat Rules (And Why They Were Right Not To)

The D&D movie was really fun, and since at this point most of my friends play D&D (or at the very least other TTRPGs), almost everyone I talk to on a regular basis has also seen it and liked it. The consensus is that even though there's no "meta" that the characters are controlled by players sitting around a table, or jokes about the DM, the movie feels like D&D. The jokes feel like jokes people would make while playing. The constant pivoting from Plan A to Plan B to Plan C feels familiar to anyone who has spent an hour at a table deciding what to do, only to have a roll go sideways and screw things up. Before I get too far, I should say this post contains some mild spoilers for Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves.

What didn't feel like D&D were the fight scenes. In one scene, a Paladin quickly dispatches a group of enemies before any of the rest of the party even acts, showcasing that even though he's kind of a square, he's an incredible fighter. In another scene, the Barbarian grabs and wears a helmet in the middle of a fight, using it creatively to get the upper hand. During a fight against a gargoyle, the Bard blinds an enemy by throwing a blanket over their head, but gets pulled along with them when a loose rope wraps around his leg. These are all pretty big moments in the movie, and Rules as Written, would never happen at a D&D table, because D&D combat doesn't work like that.

Here's what I think is interesting. The vast majority of the rules of D&D revolve around combat. It's not all of the rules, but most class abilities, spells, items, and rules have a combat focus. So why does a movie that functions partially as advertisement for the game spend so little effort to replicate the bulk of the content of the base game?

In my opinion, it's because, Rules As Written (or RAW), combat in D&D is not, generally speaking, narratively satisfying. Let's look at a few reasons why.

D&D is a game where, RAW, things either happen, or they don't. If someone misses an attack, nothing happens. If someone misses a skill check, nothing happens. DMs can work with this, but in the base game, there isn't a lot of guidance for what to do when a player fails at something they're trying to do. This may seem trivial, but compare that to something like Powered By The Apocalypse, which is much more narratively focused. In those games, a full miss means the Game Master changes things up. The enemy gets the upper hand. A new danger surfaces. An NPC is put into peril. Not only does the player fail at what they're trying to do, but something else, bad for the Player Character (PC) but good for the story, happens. On a mixed success, the PC might get what they're after, but at a cost, or with a complication they weren't expecting.

This calls to mind the example of the Bard throwing a tarp over the gargoyle in the final fight of the D&D movie. That's a classic example of a mixed success. He succeeds at temporarily blinding the creature, but in the process, he gets caught up in the gargoyle's rope and is dragged along for a ride. This is a dynamic thing to happen in combat, but wouldn't happen in actual D&D. Instead, a PC would either succeed at what they're doing, and blind the creature, or fail and not blind them. You could argue that the Bard's action was the result of a Natural 1, but that also doesn't fit RAW, because the Bard does succeed as what he's trying to do, and with a Natural 1, he would have failed and been pulled along.

D&D doesn't really reward player creativity. Something like throwing a tarp over a creature wouldn't be likely to happen in a session at all, because in the actual game, it would take a full action to do that, and depending on the Difficulty Challenge (DC) the DM sets, there's a good chance of a wasted turn. Creative actions end up a huge gamble, and when you're playing a game where it could be 20+ minutes before you get to take another turn (more like an hour if you're playing with a Wizard, amirite), you're disincentivized from "wasting" your turn to do something less than optimal. You can describe what you're doing to add to the narrative, whether you succeed or fail, but that brings me to my next point.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about this question from Rise Up Comus since I read it a month ago. In D&D, a player can describe all kinds of flavor to what they're doing, and there's no change to the mechanics of the game. You could read this as saying "Oh, well that means you have the freedom to do what you want!" but if you look at game design through the lens of "what kind of play does this game encourage or discourage" the takeaway I have is that description just...doesn't matter to D&D. In my experience, that can lead to a few different unsatisfactory outcomes.

Both players and DM treat combat as purely rolling, and describing only what is required. A DM announces, "The enemy wizard casts fireball, roll dexterity save, take 25 damage. Turn passes to the Rogue." Sometimes players who describe what they're doing are seen as showboating or taking up too much time. Worst case scenario, the DM penalizes descriptive players.

Some players like describing what they do, others don't. This has no mechanical effect on the game. Players who aren't descriptive might be frustrated that an already slow process is slowed down even more. Descriptive players may become frustrated because there's no mechanical benefit to what they're describing, and spend time fruitlessly arguing with the DM that focusing on a weak point of the enemy should give them advantage. I think most tables fall into this category. It's not a bad game by any means, but not everyone is there for the same reason when it comes to combat.

Rule of Cool Table! Everyone describes whatever they want, the dice rolls don't really matter! Combat is generally pretty easy because fuck the rules, if it's cool for the dragon to die based on how the fighter described the attack, even if it's only the first round of combat, hell yeah let's do it! For players who like being more strategic and enjoy the confines of the rule structure because it makes things challenging, these tables can be frustrating. (If you're familiar with Dungeons & Daddies, this is essentially how they play D&D).

Because there's no guideline in the rules, people come to the table with different expectations. Some people want combat to feel like a strategy game, where following the rules in the most optimal way (or combining rules elements in an unexpected way) is mechanically rewarding (usually measured by damage output). Some people want to describe themselves doing cool stuff! Some people don't care about their characters looking cool, but want the story to be compelling. If everyone isn't on the same page, this can lead to players ending combat feeling unfulfilled, and when combat is the bulk of a rules set, it feels strange to me that there's no guidance for DMs or players as to how to incentivize the kind of combat your table is interested in.

This leads to a situation where combat in D&D is the part of D&D that takes the longest, that the majority of spells and abilities are focused on, but it is, narratively, the least satisfying part of the game, unless the table alters the base rules significantly.

If you're not familiar with other TTRPGs, you might be thinking "Okay, but that's why the DM is allowed to do whatever they want and make up new rules! My DM gives inspiration when we describe something cool, that solves this problem!" My critique isn't necessarily of individual tables. DMs and players come up with all kinds of mechanics that aren't in the rules. My critique is that D&D is a role-playing game that essentially has no incentives, and many disincentives, for role-playing during combat. For example, RAW, characters don't really have time to communicate during their turns, as each round takes about 6 seconds. There's no time for banter or negotiation between PCs and enemies. You can see this disconnect by the way people talk about D&D. How many times have you heard people say "I love D&D but I don't like combat?" How could this rift be rectified? Let's take a look at some other TTRPGs.

In 7th Sea, if you take the time to describe how your character is doing something, you get a bonus to your dice pool. In Thirsty Sword Lesbians, when you get a mixed success on a Fight roll, you and your opponent are given narrative prompts to build tension (like flirt with or provoke your opponent). In Kids on Bikes, you can fail or succeed rolls by different number ranks, which determines how significant the successes or failures are. In Wanderhome, you get a token when you "take a moment to bask in the grandeur of the world, and describe it to the table." In Good Society, each player gets a "monologue token" which they can spend to prompt another player to deliver their Main Character's internal monologue. I just played a bad-action-movie-themed game called Action 12 Cinema, where players can boost a roll if they call out the song that would be playing during this scene of the movie, and get an even FURTHER boost if anyone at the table sings it.

Each of those game mechanics gives you an instant understanding into the mood of the game, and the kind of stories its built for you to tell. Even if you've never heard of any of those games, I bet, based on the title and the move, that you could hazard a guess as to what playing the game is like. Dungeons & Dragons certainly has rules that add to the lore of the game, and prompt you to create characters that act a certain way. But when it comes to combat, players and DMs are left to their own devices. Some may see that as a strength of the game, but I see it as a source for a lot of disappointing play experiences.

And it seems as though, at the very least, the writers of Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves thought the combat rules were narratively unsatisfying enough that they eschewed using any of them.

#ttrpg design #ttrpg #indie ttrpgs #indie ttrpg #dungeons and dragons #d&d #d&d movie #please don't read this in bad faith #i just like thinking about game design

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3rdeyeblaque · 7 months

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On September 10th we venerate Elevated Ancestor, Voodoo Queen of Louisiana, & Saint, Marie Catherine Laveau on her 222nd birthday 🎉

[for our Hoodoos of the Vodou Pantheon]

Marie Catherine Laveau was a dedicated Hoodoo, healer, herbalist, & midwife who, "traveled the streets [of New Orleans] like she owned them", as the most infamous Voodoo Queen of New Orleans.

Marie C. Laveau I was born a "Free Mulatto" in today's French Quarter in what was then, New France); to a mother & grandmother who were both born into slavery & later freed via freedom papers. It is believed that she grew up in the St. Ann Street cottage of her maternal grandmother.

She married Jacques Santiago-Paris, a "Quadroon" "Free Man of Color", who fled as a refugee from Saint-Domingue, Haiti from the Haitian Revolution in the former French colony . After his passing, she became known as "The Widow Paris". She then worked as a hairdresser catering to White families & later entered a domestic partnership with a French nobleman his death. She excelled at obtaining inside information on her wealthy patrons by instilling fear in their servants whom she either paid or cured of mysterious ailments. Although she never abandoned her Catholic roots, she became increasingly interested in her mother’s African traditional beliefs. The Widow Paris learned her craft from a ‘Voodoo doctor’ known variously as Doctor John or John Bayou.

Marie C. Laveau I is said to have intiated into Voodoo career sometime in the 1820s. She's believed to be descended from a long line of Voodoo Priestesses, all bearing her same name. She was also a lifelong devout Catholic. It didn’t take long before Marie C. Laveau I dominated New Orleans Voodoo culture & society before claiming title of Queen. She was the 3rd Voodoo Queen of NOLA - after Queen Sanité Dédé & Queen Marie Salopé. During her decades tenure, she was the premier beacon of hope and service to customers seeking private consultations - to aid in matters such as family disputes, health, finances, etc, created/sold gris gris, perforemed exorcisms. While her daughter Marie II was known for her more theatrical displays of public events, Marie C. Laveau I was less flamboyant in her persona. She conducted her work in 3 primary locations throughout the city: her home on St. Ann Street, Congo Square, & at Lake Pontchartrain. Despite one account of a challenge to her authority in 1850, Marie C. Laveau I maintained her leadership & influence.

The Queen died peacefully in her sleep in her ole cottage home on St. Ann Street. Her funeral was conducted according to the rite of the Catholic Church & in the absence of any Voodoo rites. To her Voodoo followers, she's venerated as a Folk Saint. In² addition to her Priesthood in Voodoo and title of Queen, she is also remembered for her community activism; visiting prisoners, providing lessons to women of the community, & doing ritual work for those in need.

She is generally believed to have been buried in plot 347, the Glapion family crypt in Saint Louis Cemetery No. 1, New Orleans. As of March 1st, 2015, there is no longer public access to St. Louis Cemetery No. 1. Entry with a tour guide is required due to continued vandalism & tomb raiding.

We pour libations & give her💐 today as we celebrate her for her love for & service to the people, through poverty, misfortune, bondage, & beyond.

Offering suggestions: flowers + libations at her grave, catholic hymns, holy water, gold rings/bracelets, money

‼️Note: offering suggestions are just that & strictly for veneration purposes only. Never attempt to conjure up any spirit or entity without proper divination/Mediumship counsel.‼️

#hoodoo #hoodoos #atr #atrs #the hoodoo calendar #conjure #rootwork #rootworkers #ancestor veneration #Marie c Laveau #Voodoo #Voodoo Queens #new orleans #new orleans Voodoo #Vodou Pantheon #Haitian Voodou

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pursuitseternal · 5 months

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Introducing “Our Blood is Thicker:” Enemies to Lovers Astarion x Tav (OC female)

Astarion x Tav (female OC) | E | 4.8 K Chapter

Summary: He can’t remember anything, but she does. The betrothed she believed dead, the source of all her centuries of grief and heartache now in the middle of her path after the Nautiloid crash. He might look mostly the same as the one who stole her heart, but something is different about him. Dark. Changed. Something hidden. But her own centuries of becoming battle-hardened haven taught her wisdom and insight beyond her own elvish abilities. He is a monster she can tame, a challenge she will have to face. No matter the heartache.

CW: angst, heartbreak, enemies, sexual tension you can cut with a dagger, vampire trauma-induced memory loss, calculating manipulation (Astarion), Spoilers for the gameplay

A/N: Prompt fill, 3rd Person POV, female Tav OC, headcanon Astarion as Star elf ✨, our Little Star

Read on AO3 if you prefer

Chapter 1: Wondering

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“Shh shh shh shh,” that sweetened, mellifluous voice whispered in her ear so softly. Lips nearly pressing against her sensitive, pointed ear. Something about it reached into the dark recesses of her memory. Jarring almost more than the danger he posed.

It was a sharp contrast. So caressing in tone. Strange, compared to the way he used every bit of his wiry, lean, overwhelming strength to push that dagger towards her neck.

“Not another sound… not if you want to keep that… darling… neck of yours….”

Shivers, colder than ice, colder than death ran down her spine at his words. Recognition shot right through her. It was a voice that once haunted her thoughts, one she once craved. But that craving had turned sour, that longing had long ago twisted into spite.

That silver hair, those piercing eyes and dangerous smile.

Even the way his arm cradled around her back, bracing her into him as he tried to threaten and destroy her.

But she had been here before.

Destroyed by him once.

Over a hundred years of loathing, resentment, anger, it all came rushing up, pouring out from her. Her hands swift and strong, she grabbed his body where she could, smashing her head right into the bridge of his beautiful, aquiline nose.

His howl of pain as he rolled away made her heart sing.

Her companions watched, mouths open as they stood in a line, some in surprise, some in delight. Karlach’s laughter was especially reassuring to her ear. Making her go just a hint faster as she scrambled for her own elegant blade.

But it was a struggle to keep her stance, to keep up. Maybe that fucking parasite is making me slow, she cursed inwardly, or maybe he’s just become quicker. Faster. But equally mean and threatening as before.

A ghost from her past, just as much of a… threat… as he once was.

Already at his feet, he clutched his dagger in hand, lips pressed in suspicion and cold, calculating spite. “I saw you on the ship…” he hissed.

She squared her shoulders, spinning her own blade expertly in hand. “That doesn’t give you the right to touch me, Astarion Ancunín,” she hissed back.

She saw it, giving her a sublime dark and twisted joy. His shock and doubt the moment she gave his name. A flicker over his face as his concentration, his intense charm and swagger, shattered. He eased on his toes, weapon lowering. Looking for answers, maybe for peaceful conversation. But it was too late for her, swallowing down the bile that had risen to speak his name again.

No backing down now, she sneered. And besides, she wasn’t alone this time. Her party stood behind her, their anxiety palpable as they watched. Waiting for her to choose: attack or speak.

And for every scar on her heart that bastard made, she longed to attack, but her own, ancient elvish sensibilities prevented her.

She couldn’t just kill one of her own. Not when there were already so few Star Elves to begin with.

“I take it, we’ve met before,” he replied. Cold, so cold in his tone. And cautious, as if he weighed every word before he let it out from those sneering lips. Same old Astarion. “At least before you crawled around the Mindflayer’s ship doing gods know what…”

That was it. She snapped inwardly. It was hard to control it, her need to pummel his pale face. “Don’t remember?” She forced a charming smile, narrowing her sharp, silver eyes at him. “Of course not, over a century of chasing your own ambitions and leaving your people behind…” She swallowed the need to mention herself… how he left you behind, her mind hissed at her with all the venom she had tried to bury.

He said nothing, but she could see how his mind was racing, scanning her up and down and all over with those… crimson… eyes.

She paused. Where were those deep violet ones? The ones she would once lose herself in, deep like the night sky she had stared into, abandoning all reason, forgetting her own self in, during those long and lonely years, wishing she wasn’t alone in her bed at night….

Rapidly, she shook her head.

It pulled him back into the tension, the pale elf hardened his form again, back on the offense, a second dagger in his fist now. “Tell me what you know about these parasites, or I’ll decorate the ground with your innards, darling…”

That’s when something pulsed in your mind, the parasite swimming, throbbing as their minds smashed together.

She saw through foreign eyes… crouching in the darkness, the tang of old blood… locked behind walls away from the stars, the sky, forsaking the sun… her stomach burned with a hunger she had never known. And slowly her mind raced, trying to cling to the memories of faces and names and the feeling of grass under her feet and wind on her face.

She wished she had chosen death as the blood on her back began to dry, as the pain of his knife still cut your senses and deadened her mind. She tried to remember anything, but it all faded into the dark…

Her eyes shot open, the glaring sun a relief to her heart as she gasped. As if she had been suffocated by that dank dark prison herself.

Astarion glared at her, so intense and angry as those crimson pools narrowed. “They took you too, I saw it during… whatever that was,” he scowled at her. Confusion, mistrust, wrinkling his porcelain brow. “It seems we have a common goal, darling, even though I could feel your hatred for me clear as… day.”

“Another gift from the Ilithids, it seems,” she scoffed, “glad I didn’t have to waste my breath telling you.” Her lithe fingers resheathed her dagger, turning on her heel to face her new found companions. But they didn’t budge even as she approached with all the confidence of a seasoned commander.

“That's it?” The elf called, voice sharp as he followed in her steps. “You’re going to just… leave me? Even though I am stuck with the same fate as all of you?” He sounded desperate, an edge of true fear flickering in his mellifluous voice.

She scoffed, tossing her shining red hair over her shoulder with a glare. “I seem to remember you always preferred to go your own way,” she jeered over your shoulder, feeling the tips of her own pointed ears growing hot with rage.

“Look, if I remembered anything, I’m sure I would have centuries to apologize for, but as it is…” he cleared his throat. She turned fully at the noise of discomfort, reassured by the closeness of the others beside her. She watched as he put on a well-practiced smile, making his arms soften as he flexed them at his sides. “I… I don’t, I can’t remember much other than my name, and little of my past.” His eyes scanned your company: wizard, cleric, tiefling… begging and pleading with their wide wetness in every way that matched his supplicant tone. “Please, I know you’re trying to find an expert, a solution…” he placed a hand on his heart, smile softening, forcing sincerity, “I’d like to, too.”

The wizard shifted beside her, leaning closer so his voice reached her ear. “It would be.. most extreme to just… ignore someone thrown into our path and bound to the same fate,” Gale’s calm and soothing lilt seemed to only aggravate her.

“We know nothing about him,” she snapped between gritted teeth. Hissing, her mind corrected those furious words: you know nothing about him.

“Do you know anything about any of us?” Shadowheart added, eyes so soft and sparkling, tone so damnably calm too.

Her nostrils flared, her temper beating in her head. Made things difficult to think past all feelings that swirled in her stomach and befuddled her mind. But she forced herself to take a breath, closing her eyes as she turned to face that unsought phantom from her past. “Fine,” she gave a relenting hiss, “for the good of the group, I will allow you to come.”

His brow quirked. Too attractively, too seductively for her own good. “Thank you,” he crooned in reply, catching her fist where it balled at her side and pressing his lips on her fingers.

His mouth was cold, but so was the air, she shook the observations from her head. Trying to keep everything he did at a distance. Hard to do as he smirked down at her, as rakish and roguish as once plagued her dreams. “I always enjoy being allowed to come,” he purred, quietly enough for her ears alone.

“Don’t,” she rasped through her tightly clenching jaw. “Don’t make me regret this spike of altruism on your behalf…” Finally ripping her hand from his chilled hold upon her. “Not that you would know the word at any rate.”

He stiffened, caught off guard again as she mentioned his past… who he was. “For as much as you think I should know you, darling, I don’t…” he squared his frame, rigid and defensive. “And for as much as you think you may know me, of what I once was, I assure you…” he seemed to sneer bitterly, his teeth flashing in the sun, “…you do not.”

Provoking him was fun, she decided. Maybe, making him pay would be a pleasant distraction from the fear of these damned parasites. She made her lips smile, giving her fiery, burnished red hair a toss. Cool and collected. “Then it seems we will have much time to get to know one another, Astarion.”

There it was again, that outward show of being polite, his feral nature just simmering beneath. “Of course,” he bowed his head, closing in so close, she had to push past him.

But the moment she cleared ahead, he was right there again, and this time, she couldn’t fight the aggravated sigh in her throat as he fell in step behind her. His body so close, she could feel the brush of his sleeve—richly colored, decadentally embroidered—with every fucking step. That’s when his sultry voice leaned too close to her ear so as to fill it. “So, since you’re so cunning and sneaky and beautiful, I’m sure you know about these parasites…”

“Certainly,” she threw him her most annoyed and caustic look. “I know enough to tell you they’ll turn you into a Mindflayer,” she snapped her reply. Quick and to the point.

“A…” he stopped frozen in his tracks, shaking his head as he scoffed with bitter laughter. “Of course,” he sneered with disdain, “it’ll turn me into a monster. What did I expect?” he commented, quietly, under that icy breath, almost to himself.

She sniffed, her own irascible, twitching grimace on her smooth face, letting out all the barbs that had piled up as he looked at her, that aloof veneer just… pissing her off. “You were always a bit of a monster, Astarion,” she teased, malice in her words. “Shouldn’t be much of a change for you.”

That did it. That broke into his ice-cold defenses. He roared, hands clawing into her upper arms, his massive strength shoving her little, flexible frame against the closest tree. He’s so close. His breath chilling. His teeth bared in her face, but all she could see was the feral, unchecked wilderness in the shocking red of his eyes. “Look,” he growled, voice barely more than a rumble as he pinned her into that unyielding tree. “I don’t know what you remember, or who you remember. But I don’t know you… I don’t recall your name, your face, your annoying, rash, irritating presence…”

“Funny,” she kept her face relaxed, pleasantly smiling softly, strangely calm as all the bile began to draw from the dark recesses of her soul. At last, her mouth spewed the words that had tightened in her chest since she recognized him. “I can recall everything. An elf’s memory is their curse, you know. I remember the depth of colors in your violet eyes, I remember the way your giggle would turn every head to give you the attention you longed for, even as a youth.”

His pinning frame eased, but he kept them on her body. Still heavy and strong as he pressed over every inch.

She wished he wouldn’t.

But it only kept the poison flowing. “I remember the taste of your tongue in my mouth, the heat of your hands as you caressed me through my gowns… I remember the way your voice cracked with feeling when you gave me your word we would be wed, my betrothed for every age… every lifetime…”

Now it was her silky voice that cracked. And she watched the shadows draw over his pale face. The lines around his eyes crinkling as he winced, as if her words were sucking a venom from sealed wounds.

“I remember that same untamable need for power, for ambition, the same that made you leave your people under the stars, in the woods, to go to Baldur’s Gate for your studies. For you to find a way to take power from society, exploiting the law… becoming a Magistrate so you could discover true power and freedom…”

Those dark red eyes shut completely. His lips drawing slowly in a pained sneer. But now the words just couldn’t stop. Not now.

She inhaled, shakily and deeply. The pain almost overwhelmed her. “I recall every second of waiting during those years, waiting for your letters… for your return to me… to make me your bride but…”

He gave a rattling breath from his chest. “But I never did…” his hands swept down her arms, lingering for a moment before he released her completely. “I couldn’t return…”

She gave a derisive huff, a laugh of pure ire and disbelief. “I know. Well, I thought I did. I went looking for you, Astarion. I found your… grave.” She almost shouted the last word. The full extent of her pain, her betrayal coating her voice, coloring her vision in pure, red rage. “I sought after how you died. Murdered in the streets. Like the traitor you were to me.” Her breath was rough and ragged. “I let you go from that moment, Astarion. So forgive me if stumbling upon you very much… not dead… is a bit painful.”

“I assure you,” he spoke through his perfectly white, gritted teeth, “it might not be as painful as the truth.”

“Well,” she sniffed in scorn, “once you deign to share it, then I’ll stop assuming you faked your own death, just to get away from me. What a sense of humor the gods must have to throw you back in my path now.”

“The gods have nothing to do with it,” he twisted his head, and she could see every muscle in his neck clenching and throbbing. “You’ll learn the truth, I’m sure. Maybe it’ll even come to you in the night…”

Brows furrowed, making her face screw in contempt, too irritated to be confused. “Maybe,” she snipped, “might be faster than waiting on you to do anything.”

He grinned, brows canting, those eyes gazed at her with that same amused stare that once made her thighs wet with need. And dammit, if she didn’t start to feel it again. Especially as that smirk started to twist more rakishly. Her heart skipped a beat. The wind in his hair, tousling those same silver locks, the scent of his skin, citrus and spice, she hated the way it still tugged at her body.

“Fuck,” she cursed, jutting her chin up at him, trying to look composed and undeterred. And unaroused. “I just hope you’re as good of a fighter as you once were,” she taunted, eyes scanning the daggers at each side of his narrow waist. “Seems your body remembers that even if you don’t remember anything important.”

“I would dare to say, darling, I’m even more dangerous now than I ever was,” he preened. Proud. Insufferable. “If you ever felt yourself in danger around me before, perhaps you may wish to watch your back… and your neck.” His eyes raked down her body, that same ancient heat in his eyes even if he didn’t remember it from… from before.

That was enough. She huffed and stalked on up the trail, trying to put as much distance and as many other bodies between her and him.

That’s when she saw it… where the rest of her party had already gathered. Something about the rocks ahead, the massive door in the wall, something inside her wanted to see what’s inside… and without another thought, she shoved on the big, wood planks.

“Locked,” she proclaimed, looking at her sweet Wizard, giving him a soft, pleading look for any help he and his magic could offer.

“Well, I do suppose…” Gale smiled, “anything to help our fearless leader, even if it’s just the gentlemanly thing of holding a door open…”

“Done!” Astarion crowed, his lockpick in one hand, the other gesticulating dramatically as he bowed. The thick door did, in fact, groan on its hinges as it opened into the mountain. “Who needs magic when you have a fine tool to shove in tiny holes, hmm?”

His eyes fixated right on her. Gods, her mind raced at the way he looked at her as if she was bared to the sun. Is he remembering?

“Well, Astarion,” the cleric taunted as she drew closer, “no one is accusing you of gentlemanly behavior.”

“I should certainly hope not,” his eyes shifted that heated, flirtatious stare on Shadowheart. “Gentlemen aren’t known for having as much fun as I tend to… enjoy.”

“Ugh,” that groan came from her, through, totally unplanned. She pushed between them to enter into the dark. But what she tried to ignore, try to distract herself from, was how her stomach knotted, how her blood boiled at the image that was now burned in her mind. Of how he was just… smirking at her…the cleric… undressing with his eyes… throwing those honeyed barbs…. And all he has for you is just anger and blades and pain, her thoughts scratched at those old, heartsick wounds.

As she entered into the dark adventure ahead, she didn’t know what was worse. The enemies in her path, or the traitorous ghost that haunted her with envy within her heart.

With a sigh, she could only hope he was as brutal a fighter as he seemed to think he was. External enemies he could slay, but she doubted he would help, could help, that bitterness and jealousy that had taken root inside her.

___________________

Hells below, she moaned, she made it to the night. Alive and in one piece. And… as she surveyed her companions that fate had shoved into her path, it was thanks to all of them. Even… she groaned inwardly… Astarion. He was indeed vicious. Worse than she remembered. He loved the bloodshed. He thrived in the chaos of battle. He became one with the shadows to sneak up on the enemy.

It was…. Gods forbid… impressive.

She mindlessly sorted through the food that everyone had pilfered on the journey today, every companion busied now piecing together sleeping places. Some of the more ambitious, entitled, conceited companions had begun to construct tents.

Like Astarion.

A heavy sigh, she tried to ignore how he was bouncing on his toes, fairly giddy to make a little abode under the night sky. Rolling her eyes painfully far back in her skull, she settled for a comfy, if austere, bedroll that she settled by the fire.

She looked at her hands as she fluffed her pillow, shifting the thick blanket to cover the leather of its back. So dry, so scarred. Calluses on both her fingers from holding sword and dagger. Seeing Astarion… it made it hard not to remember the days before. The days when pricking her fingers with a needle and thread were the worst she could do… days when she touched the finest silks, softer than starlight, that shimmered just as brightly and just as…

“Shame you can’t fashion yourself a little retreat away for yourself… a little place for privacy, secrecy,” that irritating and silken voice snapped her from her sweet memories, thrusting her right back into the agony of his presence. The reminder of all she lost. And he towered over her, looming above where she crouched.

Turning a look of pure spite up at him, she glared from over her shoulder, unable to miss how his legs stood so close to her rear. Nearly touching her with his body.

“What need would I have of secrecy, Astarion?” She taunted as she stood, carefully putting more room between them as she did so.

“Given how little I do recall about you, I’m sure I have no idea,” he purred, crossing his arms.

Exasperation. It had been a long day, ending it with more of him wasn’t ideal. She needed to… put something to rest. Anything.

“Okay, I get it,” she huffed, crossing her arms too, jutting her chin up as she met his sultry stare of indifference, “I remember much more than you. For whatever reason, I don’t know. And I know after all this time, I doubt I deserve any form of explanation. But my memory is all I have….”

She swallowed, the words you were all I had burning a hole in her throat as she fought them back down.

“But what I do know is that… someday… I would like to know what happened,” she blinked her sharp silver eyes, turning away hurriedly to hide the harsh sting of tears that began to burn. “When you’re ready… if you even remember enough to share that.”

Breathless, she waited for some snarky reply. For some witty rejoinder. But it never came. She turned. He was just… standing there. The light of the setting sun seemed to glow around him, almost making those soft, silver curls on his head incandescent.

Gods, she knew how it was she fell in love with him so easily, so long ago. A lifetime ago. Shadows darkened his eyes, and she saw it then, how he had let his guard down for a split second. Nothing but purest pain on his face.

“Astarion,” she breathed, those long forgotten feelings creeping back up. Timeless affection, boundless attachment, undying devotion.

“I will tell you… but,” he swallowed, giving a heavy, saddened sigh. “Gods, I wish I remembered more, remembered… you.” He looked at her then, really and truly. No squinting or leering or smirking. “You seem so, nice… when you want to be. You sound like you really, truly cared for me.”

“I did,” came her reply. I do, her heart screamed through the cage of spite that she had built.

“I am… sorry,” he kept his eyes fixed on her, so wide and soft. “I… must have cared for you too, I… I can almost feel it too.”

Her lungs burn. No, no. She was past this, for almost two centuries, she had buried herself in serving her people, defending them from enemies, seeking victories on the battlefield. Alone. Prowess with the blade. Feats few of her race have ever attained. No marriage or love to soften her.

And yet…except for his eyes, this was her love… her… gods, she swallowed the words… her betrothed.

“It’s alright, Astarion,” she shrugged, shoving down all that saccharine sentiment, “even if you did feel the same way as you did once, there is still the pain of losing you for such a long time.” Her head hung down, her eyes looking down the front of her well-worn linen shirt, as if she couldn’t examine the creases in her sleeves hard enough.

Then she felt him drawing closer.

“I… didn't fake anything,” he whispered. Standing right before her. Not touching, but staring back in the fading light. “I didn’t fake my death.”

She let out a quiet scoff. “So what, then if you didn’t fake it, you really died?” She couldn’t help the slight mocking edge to her voice as he dragged up all that pain she fought to still keep locked up tight.

He gave a single, loud, bitter laugh in return. Then, his face instantly lost all that softness, becoming all slanted angles, clenching muscles, and spiteful glare. “I was captured,” he hissed, “kept as a slave to a… monster.”

“Astarion,” his name was a sob in her voice, her body unable to stop her hand from reaching out to rest on his arm as it clenched at his side.

“No, I don’t want pity,” he snapped his teeth in rage, “I don’t want your pity. What I want is revenge. Freedom. These tadpoles have obviously affected us, in more ways than I think anyone can simply observe. There is a power here.” He trembled under her featherlight touch, but he hadn’t shaken it off. “And I would like to use it to its benefit for me, for once.”

“Sounds like even with… everything you endured, you haven’t changed all that much,” she tried to smile. Despite his pain and rage on his beautiful face. Despite her heavy heart.

“You have no idea what you are speaking of,” his voice was exacting, enraged, and sharp.

Her head nodded, the soft red waves of her hair falling gently as she did. “No, no I don’t. You’re right.”

And instantly something shifted in his frame. His gaze felt… different on her face. Even though she didn’t look up. Not yet.

“And I would want those things for you too, even once upon a time,” she added, “Freedom. Revenge.” She trained her eyes on the ground between them, feeling his stare’s intensity more than seeing it.

And still, he allowed her hand to rest on his arm.

“When we… once were… together, I would never have said such a thing. But I have changed in these centuries too. Fought enough battles, looted enough corpses to lose the softness of my hand and the gentility of my voice.” She struggled to breathe again. Something around her heart releasing at last. “Maybe it’s best that you don’t remember me.” She gave the hard sinews of his arm a gentle squeeze. “Maybe we just get to know each other as we are now?”

“I kind of like the sound of that,” he hummed. Then he cast that well-practiced smile, the only warning before his other hand came to cover hers arresting it from his body in his soft fingers.

His touch was still so… cold.

“I do still wish I could remember more of you,” his voice dipped low, soft and sweet and tickling in her ear as he seemed to draw closer. “Maybe you can think of some things to… trigger my memory?”

“I could certainly try,” she managed to reply, and as he began to crowd her.

“I’d be open to some ideas of yours, darling,” his hand raised her to his lips, placing a polite kiss on her twitching fingertips. “I also have some… suggestions that you might find… intriguing.” His eyes flashed as she looked into his face, as she felt his breath on her hand where he kept it pressed close to his mouth. “Especially since you say we were betrothed…”

Nope. She gave him a disapproving frown, a bitter chuckle. “If you can’t remember if we have coupled yet, then I am not about to tell you either way, Astarion,” she smirked at him. “If we are getting to know one another again, it seems only fair you should earn such a privilege again as well.”

He shrugged those strapping, broad shoulders. “Can’t blame a man for trying,” he purred. “Not with how… delectable… you smell.”

Her breath burned in her lungs, his hand turning hers slowly, running a thumb over that sensitive skin inside her wrist just once. Pressing it against his nose. Smelling her flesh. Even more painstakingly slowly, his lips caressed it, trailing a few more over those tingling nerves he was igniting on fire now. Then he released her just as quickly as he had stolen her hand to press to his lips.

Similar, but so, so much more daring. Devious. Desirous. Gods, kissing her fingers was one thing, but this. Oh, she felt molten inside, barely noticing just how cold he still was to the touch. Finally he released her. “You should rest, my dear. Tell the others, I will take the first watch to show you all I’m on my best behavior.”

She watched him turn and take two steps towards his tent.

Then he stoped, casting a smirk over his shoulder. Catching her in the glint of his crimson eye. “Sweet dreams… Cordehlia.”

Hells… her name. Her gut stabbed in on itself. Her legs gave out slightly, as she hoped he wouldn't notice.

No one had said it… her name… not within his hearing. How… did he…?

As he crept his way to the treeline, Cordehlia watched him as he stalked away. Wondering just how much he might remember.

Wondering at how much he had changed…

Wondering… why was he so cold, and why were his eyes so red…

💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞

Want more? Check out my Masterlist 🩸✨

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 21 days

Text

A/N ::: I haven't written anything for like, a week now? I mean, nothing substantial. I started this 4 or 5 days ago and dropped it until this morning where I finished the last 3-5 pages. Anyway. I never write "Asshole Draken" because I really just don't see him pullin' that shit. But we all have bad days. And I guess this was one of his. But don't worry, it turns out so, so good (I think).

C/W ::: Asshole Draken x F.Reader, saying mean shit to each other, without saying too much, he gets a teeny itty bitty bit physical with her but that's all. He doesn't hit her so don't be completely deterred by this if that's what you were thinking. Uh, M->F and F->M Oral. Slight face-fucking, name calling (but it's ... ok? Idfk. Shut up.) I proofed this once cuz I got a sick kid that wants me to play roblox with her so I gotta go do that. If I missed anything shoot me a message and I'll check it out. I hope you guys like this!!

WC ::: 3,314 *roughly 8 pages on Google Docs* Sorry not sorry it's so fucking long.

He sat in the corner of the garage, working in near total silence on his bike.

You came over today because he invited you. You thought it was going to be fun, sitting in there with him while he fiddled away with the machine. Boy, were you wrong.

He was quiet for the most part. But when he did speak, he had nothing nice to say to you. He was really short for someone who was so much fucking taller than you.

You looked over at him, watching as he pulled the old engine out of the bike. He had a rag in his mouth and grease on his face. His hair was messy and his eyes were focused on the task at hand. You admired that determination. Still, you couldn't figure out what the hell his problem was.

You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms over your chest. A question sat on the tip of your tongue, threatening to pass the closed threshold of your lips and enter the shared space. God you wanted to talk to him. Maybe you could help him find out what was wrong with the bike. You knew a thing or two about mechanics. Sure, not as much as he did. But a second set of eyes and hands rarely did more damage.

But then, the question died on your tongue. Because you knew why he didn't want your help. You're not even sure he wanted you there. You stood and headed toward the door to the house. Then and only then, did he finally speak up.

"The fuck you goin'." He said quietly.

You turned around and glared at him. "What?"

He set down his tools and pulled the rag out of his mouth. "Said, where you going? You're supposed to be helping me. You said you’d come over today so you could fucking help me with this goddamn thing."

"Helping you? Helping ...? Ken, you won't so much as even look at me. You haven't smiled at me, you barely said hi when I got here. And you're pissed at me?"

Ken stood up and walked over to you, towering over you as he wiped the grease off his hands. "I asked you for help and you said yes. I didn't ask you to just sit there and look pretty. Speakin' of, what the hell you wearing today, anyway? Is this supposed to be cute or somethin'?"

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, I am just here to look pretty, Ken. I'm not here to do anything else. I'm not here to actually do anything."

Ken took a step back and scoffed. "Are you serious right now? Are you really just gonna act like this? You don't wanna be here. I can see that. You can leave, g'head. Get out."

You stepped away from him and squared your shoulders. "Fffffine." You challenged. "Your wish is my command, my King." Turned away from him now, you muttered under your breath what a dick he was being and how you didn't know for sure if he wanted your help today with this. If you had known, you wouldn't have dressed the way you did.

"Sorry? Did'n hear ya jus’ now. What was that?" He said it louder than he needed to.

You spun around and met his gaze with your own. "I said, you're being a dick."

"Well, if the shoe fits, babe. And you're being a bitch. So, let's just wear these shoes, eh?" He shot back. “Let’s wear these shoes and jus’ walk away from each other.”

You were both silent for a moment. The air between you thick with tension. You could feel the anger bubbling up inside of you. Who the hell was he to speak to you like that? You came here to see him and he was treating you like shit.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to hit him. But you didn't.

Instead, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the garage, slamming the door behind you. He yelled at you to come back but you ignored him. You were done. Done with his shitty attitude and his shitty behavior.

Grabbing your jacket and your purse from the couch, you threw them both on and headed for the front door. You could hear his footsteps coming from the laundry room into the kitchen and sooner than you expected, they were right behind you.

"Jus’ gonna leave, huh?" He growled. "That's it? You're gonna walk out of here and leave me to finish this stupid fuckin' thing on my own?"

"You don't want my help, Ken! You don't even want me here right now! You've made that painfully obvious. So ... yeah. Yeah. I'm going to go. And you can call Mikey and have him suck you off while you two idiots do whatever it is that you do when you're toget---"

He grabbed you by the jaw and brought his face down to yours. "You … don't fuckin' talk to me like that. You understand? You're the only one who sucks this cock. An' right now I feel like you should be doin' a lot more of that than mouthin' off to me the way ya are. Gettin' on my las' fuckin' nerve righ' now, princess."

You looked up at him, shoving his hand away from you. "Ken." You said softly.

He pulled his hand away from your face and took a step back. "Mm? ... Ya got somethin' to say? There's a surprise."

You shook your head and bit your bottom lip. "I'm ... I didn't mean to ..."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you're ... what? You're sorry now? You always know the right things to say to me at the right times, don't ya? Yeah, yeah ya do."

You nodded. "Yeah. I guess."

He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "So, what? You're gonna come back ...? You gonna help me with this goddamn thing like I wanted ya to? You think I want you here now after ya actin’ like such a shit?"

"Oh my fucking god, Ken. Make up your mind, would you? This conversation is like watching someone on a swing that's out of control. I don't know which way to look and I'm getting nauseous. Just fuckin’ …tell me what you want." You rolled your eyes so hard at him it felt like you pulled a muscle in your socket.

"Tch. There go ya world famous eye rolls again. You look like ya do when 'm fuckin' ya real good. You're good at those." He smirked. "You're so goddamn dramatic. Always making a scene. Just come back here and help me with this thing. I'll even let you hold my big, heavy tools, k, princess?"

You stood there, arms crossed over your chest. You were ready to throw hands with him if he said anything else. But he didn't.

Instead, he walked over to you and wrapped an arm around your waist. He kissed the top of your head down to your neck and whispered an apology. You could feel his breath on your skin and his body pressed against yours. You couldn't believe he was acting like what happened didn’t just happen between the two of you.

"What the hell was that, Ken? You're such a ... a ... an asshole!"

He chuckled softly and kissed you on the lips. "I'm sorry, baby. You're right. I am an asshole. But you make me crazy, ya know? Ya little hissy fits irritate the shit out of me sometimes 'n I just explode."

You shook your head. "I don't want to be the one who makes you explode, Ken. Not like that, anyway." You giggled. "That's not why I came over today. I came here to help you. But I didn't even get the chance to. You didn’t give me the chance to. You were in a bad mood when I got here."

"We’ll get back in there and you can hold my tools like you always do. And I'll show ya what to do. Deal?" He looked down at you with a soft smile.

You smiled back. "Deal."

"Think you needa learn a little lesson about how you need to not take that bitchy ass little tone with me, hah? Follow me, now."

You watched Ken walk away and disappear around the corner into his bedroom for a second before what he was implying was registering in your brain.

"Oh. OH, shit." You caught up to him and found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his coveralls pulled down to his waist, he was leaning back on his hands. A vicious smirk set on his lips.

"Yeah, 'Oh shit.' Come here, brat." He reached back and took his hair out of its braid and tossed the tie onto the bed.

You walked over and stood between his legs. His hands were on your hips, gently caressing the silky fabric of your dress. You were already wet for him and he knew it. It was written all over your face. The way your hips swayed when he touched you.

"'M sorry I said what I said about what you're wearing today. You look really fuckin' sexy. It's distracting. I think you should take it off f'me." He gestured his hands downward, "C'mon. Get outta it."

You smiled and slid the straps off your shoulders one at a time. Then you slipped the dress down to your ankles, exposing your tits and pussy to him.

“No panties today, hm? You really had no idea I wan’ned your help with the bike?” His eyes were glued to your body. He stared at the roundness of your belly, rubbing it with the palms of his hands, sliding them around to the fattest part of your ass. He squeezed it gently and pulled you toward him, placing kisses on your stomach, moving down to your pussy.

His stubble tickled your skin as he kissed you. You sighed as he slipped his hands between your thighs and spread your legs apart a little more.

"What's this?" He dipped his fingers into your pussy and pulled them out, pressing them against his thumb again and again, holding them up to your face to show you how wet you were - like you were completely unaware of it at this point.

"You know what that is, dummy." You threw your head back, forcing your chest out a little bit more.

He laughed. "Yeah, I know what that is. What I don't know is why. Why ya so goddamn wet when you were just so fuckin' angry with me a minute ago. You like it when I yell at ya?" He was teasing, you knew he was. But his expression was anything but playful.

You shrugged. "It's not like I want you to be mean to me, Ken. But, I do … I kinda like the way you get when you're mad. It's ... hot."

Ken rolled his eyes. "Of course, course ya like it ... little freak like that. Just like when I fuck you hard and call you names." He licked his fingers and grabbed up your ass with a loud smack, making you yell out and jump closer to him.

You nodded. "I can't help it. I like it. And now? Well, now I know you like it too. You wanna fuck me like that, don't you? Fuck me hard and make me scream? Tell me what a perfect little slut I am for you? Tell me what a horny little bitch in heat I am? Fuck, Ken." You lowered yourself down and climbed onto his lap, straddling him. You could feel his hard cock strain against his clothes and he winced as you ground against it.

"Can't help it. You look at me an’I get wet sometimes. Can't fucking stop it. It's like my body is under your control." You whispered. "You know what I like."

He looked up at you with a wicked grin on his face. "Yeah, I know what you like. You like to be told what to do. You like to be bossed around. You like when I put you in your place, princess. An' I'm gonna do that. Righ’ now."

He stood, hoisting you up with him and turned around. Facing the bed, he lowered you down onto it. "Fuckin' slut. Startin' a fight with me just to get this cock. Tch. You asked for it, sweetheart. Fuckin' asked for it today ... 'n you're gonna get it." He shoved his coveralls down the rest of the way, leaving his boxers on and climbed down between your knees, kissing your thighs softly.

He rubbed your pussy with his fingers, ghosting them around your clit, teasing you, making you buck your hips up into his hand. He held your legs down with his other hand and sneered. "Did I tell you to fuckin' move like that?"

You raised your head off the pillow and looked at him, "N-no. Didn't."

"Sorry? N-no? N-no WHAT?" He mocked.

"NO SIR, you didn't tell me to move like that. 'M sorry." You smiled.

"Good girl ... learnin' fast. I like that. Good fuckin' girl. Keep it up, keep learning, keep behaving for me." He leaned down and kissed your pussy softly, moaning quietly into you.

"Hngh, fuck, Ken. Wanna move, please lemme move!"

"Mm-mm. No. Did'n tell ya to, did I? Hold the fuck still, princess." He smiled that smile at you and you could feel your cunt clench up immediately.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, Ken." You whined. "I w-, I want it, fuck, please."

He sat up and shook his head. "Nah, nah. Not yet. You're gonna have to wait for it. Be patient."

You groaned and slammed your head back down onto the pillow. "Ken, please. I can't wait. Please, please, please ... fuck you. Holy shit."

He laughed harder than you thought he should have. "F- ... fuck me? You come over here and get all uppity and have the audacity to say that to me. Goddamn it. I don't understand why you keep making me teach you these lessons, baby girl. It's like you need to be taught the same shit over 'n over 'n over again."

You couldn't speak. You could barely breathe. You were so worked up and so ready for him to fuck you relentlessly. But he wouldn't. Not yet. You had to wait. And that was driving you crazy.

"Fuck, Ken. PLEASE. Please fuck me, fuck me. I wanna ... ngh ... you ... so fucking bad. Please, fuck. Ken. PLEASE." You begged.

He chuckled and stood up, motioning for you to take his boxers and pull them down. "Fine, fine. Since you asked so nicely." Take 'em off." You sat up and pushed his boxers down with both of your hands and kissed your way down his abdomen until they were all the way off and his cock slapped against your chin.

You took it into your mouth and sucked on it, swirling your tongue around the tip and then taking as much of it down your throat as you could.

"Fuck, fuck ... that's it, that's it ... suck that cock, suck thatttt cockkkk baby." Ken growled. He pulled your hair back and held it tight in his fist, moving your head up and down on his cock. You moaned and choked, your eyes watering as he fucked your face.

"Mmmm, fuck, you like that, don't you? Like when I fuck this pretty little face of yours. Fuck, it's so fuckin' perfect. Fuck, baby. Look at me, look at me." He lifted your chin and forced you to make eye contact with him. He groaned as you whimpered.

He let go of your hair and backed away from you, standing at the edge of the bed. "Get over here."

You crawled over to him and sat up on your knees in front of him, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.

"Suck that cock s'more, baby. I want to see that make-up fucking ruined on that sweet face of yours."

You took him back into your mouth and sucked him harder, faster. You moaned and whimpered as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock.

"Good girl, g-hah fuck-good fucking girl. Righ' there righ' there righ' there FUCK ... fuck yes."

He held your hair back and thrust into your mouth, making you gag a little on it. You looked up at him, tears streaming down your face. His eyes were closed and he was panting heavily. He was close. You knew he was close. You felt his cock begin to twitch against your tongue as you doubled-down on your efforts.

He pulled out of your mouth and turned you around, bending you over the edge of the bed. He rubbed the head of his cock up and down your pussy, teasing you, making you moan and cry out for him.

"Ken, Ken ... ple- goddamn it! Ken, pleeeaaase." You whined.

"Mm-hm mm-hm, beg for it, bitch."

You both stopped and stared at each other when he said that.

It kind of surprised you. The both of you.

He furrowed his brows and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He couldn't think of anything to say after that.

You had never been more turned on than at the moment.

You jumped up and quickly positioned yourself over his cock, sitting down just enough that you were sure he could feel you as much as you could feel him. Both of you pulsing over the touch of the other.

"Ken, Ken ..." you whined against his lips.

He kissed you and pushed your head back with his hand, forcing you to look up at him. "Mmm, fuck, baby. What do you want? Tell me what you want, slut."

You moaned at that and sunk yourself down onto his cock, taking him all in at once. "Wan' this, fuck ... wan' you s'bad."

"Yeah, yeah ... you fuckin' do. You want me to fuck you so hard you can't fuckin' move anymore. That's what you want, right? That's what you want, sweetheart."

It was not a question. He flipped you over and onto your back and he began fucking you at a brutal pace. "Fuckin' wanna get wrecked by this dick. Gonna get so fucked out you can't do anything but drool. Fuckin' slut. Fuck ... fuck yes."

You could barely speak. You couldn't form a coherent thought. All you could do was moan and whimper and whine.

He fucked you so hard and so fast, you weren't sure how he was able to keep going. He leaned down and kissed you, his tongue in your mouth, his cock in your pussy. It was bliss.

You screamed out and he bit your bottom lip, growling at you, "Fuck! Fuckin' love it when you scream like that, baby. Keep doin' it, keep cryin' 'bout how good I fuckin' feel n’side of you."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and held onto him for dear life as he fucked you into oblivion. He was relentless and unforgiving. You could feel him tense up and you knew he was about to cum.

He groaned loudly and thrust into you a few more times. You could feel his cum rush into your deepest places. He collapsed on top of you and you both gasped for air.

"Holy shit, Ken. Jesus fuck." you said through deep breaths.

"Right." He chuckled. "Gonna have to be an asshole more often."

You reached down and pinched his ass between your thumb and index finger.

"Hey! The hell ...?" He kissed the tip of your nose. "Did'n mean it. I know better 'n that."

"Yeah, don't forget who this pussy is attached to, princess." You laughed and shoved him off of you so you could help him finish the work on the bike before the day was over.

@kazutora-kurokawa @ryuuc00chie @katkusuo @darkstarlight82 @viburnt @southside-otaku @arlerts-angel

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tmntxthings · 1 year

Note

would you ever consider making a donnie version of the fanfic oneshot you made with leo? :)

∑一Literature At Its Finest*･。

author’s note: long time no see ( ´▽｀) idk if this has been noticeable but i’ve been slowing down with posting overall, im struggling with motivation to write esp with the semester starting up, maybe i’ll get back into it once things have settled down c: with that being said I hope you enjoy dear anon

warnings: fluff, short drabble, donnie pov, unedited

〈 leo’s 〉

—————————————————————————

Donatello Hamato was many things, an inventor, a scientist, and obviously a genius. So he would say it’s in his nature to be curious about the unknown. Now whether that unknown be of the scientific nature… or perhaps whatever it was that had your eyes glued to your screen for approximately one hour and twenty seven minutes..? Was there really a difference between the two? Donnie didn’t think so. Neither did his growing curiosity.

He had gotten halfhearted responses from you, like “yeahhh” and/or “cool Dee,” any time he tried to broach one of his latest and greatest projects. Usually you gave him your undivided attention and Donnie loved to just soak up your beautiful gaze. Sometimes he’d lose track if he glanced up into your eyes for too long, to which you would kindly tell him where he had left off.

So what was so important (on that stupid iphone 11 that could totally be upgraded by Othello Von Ryan himself if you ever let him) that you would dare ignore him for over an hour! In. His. Presence. He cleared his throat once more,

“Dearest? Are you listening?”

You didn’t glance up but you hummed in a tone that said, yes. Donnie narrowed his eyes. You were so absorbed you couldn’t even part those gorgeous orbs of yours off of your phone for a second? Just a tiny glance his way? He huffed, and pushed out of your chair. His usual spot when he came over was at your desk. You never really used it so Donnie had a few of his things there, it was like his own work place outside of his lab. He frequented this desk whenever you couldn’t make it to the lair.

He ventured to your bed, where you lay on your back, phone in front of your face unaware of your surroundings or your boyfriend.

“Then what did I just say?” Donnie challenged and you murmured something along the lines of “listening?” The purple turtle was quick to rephrase, “No, no! Earlier Y/n, my project!” He whined, getting a little desperate now for even just a crumb of your attention. Donatello watched with baited breath as you were as still as a statue. Eyes growing wider as you looked at your screen. A tiny smile forming on your face. Completely ignoring him. And that was Donnie’s breaking point.

One of his robo hands quickly unsheathed from his battle shell (yes he wore it everywhere) and snatched your phone right from under your nose. Funnily enough your hand was frozen in a state of holding the square device as you blinked and shock overcame your expression. And finally, finally, those eyes of yours met his. “Donnie!” You lurched forward almost falling out of your bed to reclaim your phone. “Yes darling?” Donnie feigned innocence as his robotic hand moved out of your reach. He smirked as he watched you steady yourself. You breathed in a quick breath.

“I was reading!” You said as if that explained everything and made grabby hands for him to return your technological property. “Must be pretty enthralling writing for you to ignore me, your handsome boyfriend!” Donnie sniffed and his metal hand moved to allow him to peer at your screen. It was like all hell broke loose, you screeched “No no no you can’t read it!!!”

Now as a full fledged nerd, he knew these were the telltale signs of someone reading something embarrassing.. and he deduced it was fan fiction. He may or may not have had his own similar experiences… Atomic Lass was his weakness. One that Leo loved to make fun of him for. “Well now I’m intrigued!” He saw you were using one of the main sites for such literature, ao3. His smirk only grew wider, “Doth mine eyes deceiveth me? Darling what are you reading hmmmm?” He continued to tease as his eyes roamed for more information. All the while ducking and dodging your mad grabs for your phone.

“Donald!!” You gave him your warning tone. But he didn’t care. You had ignored him for too long and if this is what it took to get your attention, by Newton he would do it! Plus, truly he wouldn’t shame you for your tastes in reading, it wasn’t like he was a pure soul when it came to reader x atomic lass..! “Let’s see,” Donnie cleared his throat dramatically and you audibly gasped thinking the worst: he was about to read aloud.

“I’ve waited all my life to find someone like you,” Donnie caught onto the scene and the emotion immediately growing more romantic (and dramatic). “You are the only one for me, in this life and all the rest! His hands unclenched from fists as he gently cupped your face-“

Donnie almost got a face full of pillow if a second robo arm hadn’t shot out to bat it away. He stole a glance up from your phone finding your face heated in a pretty blush, which only goaded Donnie to continue. “He only hesitated for a moment, looking into your eyes to find love and joy overflowing, he kissed you so heatedly, drawing out a—“

“DONATELLO!!!!!!!” You howled and finally snatched your phone away from his green grasp. Quickly closing your phone and the screen darkened. Donnie raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “That won’t stop a tech genius like moi” he said hand covering his chest. “Donnie!!” You exasperated, eyes pleading for him to stop the embarrassment. He threw in the metaphorical towel, robo arms hiding back in his shell as he sat down next to you on your bed. “Dearest you must know I read such things too,” he placated you, even though his cheeks felt warm admitting it out loud.

“So you must know how I feel!” You said insinuating that reading such private things aloud were a no-go. He sighed, “even amongst us?” You wavered and that was all it took. Donnie eagerly reached forward, wanting to prove to you that you needn’t be embarrassed.

“You are the only one for me,” he quoted from the dialogue he had just read earlier. His hands caressing your cheeks gently as he leaned forward. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to touch/kiss/hug as was the customs of dating, but it may have been odd for Donnie to be the one to initiate. So you were in a sort of frozen state as his lips murmured, “in this universe, and all those after it. I am yours,” he put his own little spin on it and sealed such romantics with a soft kiss.

You were moving after that, he was rewarded with a shy smile and your lips chasing after his. Making the heated kiss from the story come to life. “Okay maybe I won’t be so embarrassed..” you admitted after the both of you pulled away. It was quiet for a moment and then you continued, “Now what was that about your project?” A twinkle in your eye told him that maybe you had been paying more attention to him than he originally thought!

“Welllll, since my darling one is oh-so curious!” Donnie winked, making you smile brighter. The two of you moved to lay back against your pillows and he restarted his speech from the beginning. Getting all excited and making lots of hand gestures, with his real and robo hands! You were attentive once more, on your side and eyes never leaving him. He maybe blanked a couple of times, truly he lost himself within your gaze. But that was okay, you knew exactly where he left off!

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leclercskiesahead · 1 year

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Carlos taking off his clothes

#charles leclerc #carlos sainz jr #charlos #c2 #c square #scuderia ferrari #Jeddah 2023 #if there was ever evidence needed that these two would actually f*** for a c2 challenge

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dreamywriter143 · 1 year

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Nga Yawne Lu Oer

Title: Nga Yawne Lu Oer

Genre: Fluff, Slow-Burn, Unrequited love, Love-Triangle/Square?, Angst, SFW, NSFW (like one chapter later on, MDNI), Romance.

Status: Ongoing

Warnings: Depictions of battles, blood/weapons, NSFW (later on) and it’s NOT incest. (That will also be revealed, much later on) Also, all the characters are AGED-UP (Neteyam and Ao’nung are the eldest being 18 etc…..)

Parings: Neteyam X Reader, Lo’ak X Reader, Ao’nung X Reader

Summary: Y/N, the twin sister of Tsireya and eldest daughter of Ronal and Tonowari is faced with new challenges and obstacles as the Sully’s arrive to Awa'atlu. Y/N cant help but be amazed by the new Na’vi, who intrigue her as well as raise a sense of connection within them. What will she do when lives are in danger? When the RDA attack? Or more Importantly, when her heart is torn between the two brothers who steal her breathe away upon first contact?

Word count: 2.9k

*****A/N: Before you start, I'd like to point out that Roxto IS NOT part of the group that aids Ao'nung when they harass Kiri. Roxto only teases them once throughout the entire movie. And that was at the first meeting. He's such a sweet boy!! 🥺******

Chapter Ten: Freak

________________________________

After Y/N and Kiri had given Tuk her bracelet, which she was as ecstatic about, they decided to relax on the shore. Kiri floated in the shallows, looking into the sand below her as Y/N sat beside her, taking in the sun.

She felt refreshed. A comfortable as welcomed silence falls between them, enjoying each other's company. Y/N loved the way the sun warmed her up all the way down to her toes. The scratches over her body seemed to have started to heal. She decided on making a ointment when she goes home for her calluses later.

Y/N ears twitch at the sound of footsteps approaching her, she opens her eyes glancing towards the sound. Her eyes widen noticing Ao'nung walking towards them, three of his friends behind him snickering. Roxto was nowhere to be seen. Y/N quickly looks away turning towards Kiri to nudge her.

"What is she doing?" One of the friend says teasingly. Y/N successfully nudges Kiri but she is so immersed in her world, she doesn't budge.

"I don't know"

"She's just looking at the sand" another points out, snickering. Feeling her annoyance reach her limit, Y/N stands up, after noticing Kiri starting to respond to her nudges.

Y/N looks at Ao'nung, who effectively avoids her warning stare, looking past her at his target.

Kiri.

She gets up wiping her eyes, seeing the four boys and Y/N. Y/N tried to cover them from Kiri's view sensing hostility radiate from the group,

"Huh?-" she questions looking between them. "-what did you say?" She asks still confused. Y/N feels grateful she didn't hear their laughter. She also didn't want to stick around long enough for them to say anything else hurtful. She turns to Kiri grabbing her hand, ready to get out of there. She takes a step forward intending on getting out of there without facing her brother.

Ao'nung steps in, blocking Y/N from doing so. He looks at Kiri, glad she asked him a question, a evil smirk plays around his lips, ignoring the pleading eyes Y/N sent his way.

"Are you some kind of...freak?" Ao'nung asks, his eyes solely on Kiri. Y/N felt her heart drop as her brothers words. She felt Kiri tense under her hold, she had to get out of there. Before more damage could be inflicted.

The smaller friend jumps into view.

"He asked if you were a freak!" He mocks making Kiri flinch slightly. Y/N tightens her hold on Kiri's hand. She turns to Ao'nung deciding she had no option but to intervene. Walking out silently was out of the picture at this point. After weeks of avoiding him, she steps in front of Kiri effectively blocking their view of her.

"She isn't, now back off Ao'nung" Y/N hisses warningly. Her ears flatten at her own harsh words. Ao'nung looks into Y/N eyes, nothing but disgust written in his features. He had to ignore the pang in his chest after it's been so long since his sister even spoke to him. And she looked furious.

"Oh? So you can speak?!" He ask titling his head back to let out a mocking laugh.

"Back off, let us leave. I don't want to start anything" Y/N says sternly, trying to get by Ao'nung, but with every step she takes, he mirrors it, blocking her exit, making her stop each time.

"Oh C'mon now. You don't speak to me for weeks and the only time you do, it's to defend this freak?!" He growls venom dripping from his words. Y/N flinched at his tone. He also sounded hurt.

Kiri looks up, anger written all over her face. "I'm not a freak!" She says making the guys snicker. Ao'nung turns to her, stepping past Y/N in front of Kiri.

"Are you sure? I mean, you're not even true Na'vi. Look at these hands? I mean look at them!" He says trying to grab Kiri's free hand. Y/N hisses pushing Kiri further behind her. Noticing how Ao'nung was trying to grab Kiri's tail, she tries to swat his hand away. In doing so Ao'nung grabs Y/N's hand. Holding it tightly, making the H/C Na'vi flinch at how tight the hold was. Ao'nung glares at her, his hand not letting hers go.

"Hey!" A voice yells, calling all attention to him. Ao'nung let go of Y/N's hand as Lo'ak approaches the group. A smile plays across his lips.

"Back off fish lips" he says standing up to Ao'nung, sizing him up. Y/N takes the distraction as in opportunity to get Kiri out of their circling group. She walks back to the group wanting to pull Lo'ak out of there as well.

"look, another four fingered freak" Ao'nung mocks staring Lo'ak down.

"Look at his little baby tail." Another mocks going to grab his tail. Lo'ak whips his tail hissing in warning. Y/N intervenes swatting his hands away. "Don't touch him!" She says threateningly. She tried to stand near Lo'ak but the other guys kept her at bay, blocking her.

Watching Y/N defend Lo'ak ignited something within Ao'nung. He shoves Lo'ak further into the circle as the others try grabbing at his tail, as one of the friends held Y/N back. He held her against him, his hold making the girl wince in pain. She tried to move but it was proving to be quite hard,

"Leave us alone!" Kiri demands seeing Y/N struggle to get her hand free from the taller male Na'vi that held her away from Lo'ak.

"He's not normal"

"Look at his tail? It's very cute!

" Aw baby tail" they chant circling around him, poking and pulling at his sides.

Watching Lo'ak try to hold them back, Y/N shoves the male against her harshly. "Ftang Nga!! (Stop it!!) Please!" She demands, but it comes out as a plea.

The boy she had shoved gets annoyed with her antics and pushs Y/N away from him. A little too hard, causing her to lose her balance and fall face first into the sand. Her chin receiving the brunt of the impact.

Ao'nung stops his teasing, his eyes widening when Y/N grunts in pain. She wipes the sand of her face, seeing traches of blood. Her eyes widen as she feels the numbing pain on her chin.

Ao'nung opens his mouth to scold his friend but is shoved back, aggressively, as Neteyam stands before him. With so much commotion no one had noticed when Neteyam came storming his way towards the group from the sea. He points his finger into Ao'nung's chest threateningly as the three boys stand behind Ao'nung. Watching carefully.

"You heard what she said, leave them alone" he seethes. His eyes glance towards Y/N who stumbles a little standing up. A clear cut on her chin where she had the most impact. it was bleeding profusely, the sand holding traces of her blood. He felt his muscles clench at the sight.

'How dare they lay a hand on her'

"Aw big brother coming to-" Ao'nung holds his hand up silencing his friend. Neteyam holds his glare, every fibre in his being wanted to attack, put them in their place. For what the said to Kiri, for how they were treating Lo'ak. For most importantly, for laying a finger on Y/N. Who was protecting his family.

"Back off......Now" Neteyam adds, his eyes landing on the lackies that stood behind Ao'nung. Ao'nung takes a step back, he takes a quick glance towards Y/N seeing her wince when her hand gingerly touched her chin. The scratch looked deep.

"Smart choice" Neteyam growls, anger surging through him. He turns around, walking to Y/N. When he's in front of her she looks up. Neteyam felt his tense shoulders soften as her doe like eyes looked up into his. His fingers brush against her chin, assessing the damage. It was deep, crimson pouring out of the cut. He looks to make sure there is no more damage before turning to Kiri. Seeing the sadness in her face only fueled his rage.

"And from know on I need you to respect my sister. And learn basic decency not to lay your hands on a female." Neteyam adds looking at the male who had shoved Y/N into the sand. He was looking for an excuse to beat his face into the ground. But as the oldest Sully, he had to be cool. Maintain peace.

The male Navi hisses threateningly.

"Let's go" Neteyam urges, pulling Lo'ak with him towards Kiri. He turns to Y/N who shakes her head.

"Go on without me. I'll see you soon" she whispers turning to Ao'nung. Neteyam and Lo'ak look conflicted. They didn't want to leave without her, so they stayed put. Watching Y/N leave their side.

Y/N approaches her brother and his friends. A scowl prominent. "What were you thinking! Ao'nung, this is low! Even for you!" She says, solely focused on her brother. Ao'nung tries to respond back but his friends respond for him.

"You're a traitor Y/N. How dare you look down on us when you are getting all friendly with them! They are freaks. The whole family. And now, so are you. You disgust me" he seethes spitting on the sand in disgust. Y/N looked at the Na'vi. She felt her eyes sting at his words as Ao'nung let him freely.

"Lo'ak" Neteyam calls warningly.

"I got this bro"

Y/N turns to see Lo'ak come towards them. He locks eyes with Y/N, he catches the build up of tears in her eyes she refused to let fall. He gently moves Y/N to the side so he's facing the boys. Mainly the boy who had insulted him, his family and mainly Y/N.

"I know this hand is funny, look, I'm a freak. Alien-" he says mockingly showing his hands. Twirling it around for a better view. The boys seem amused, even Ao'nung as he watched from the sidelines.

"-But it can do something really cool. Watch, first I tie it really tight-" he says putting his attention on his hand that he was demonstrating. "-okay. Then-" Lo'ak lands two quick punches on the male Na'vi sending him flying to the ground. His nose bleed profusely as he looked up in shock.

"It's called a punch bitch, don't ever touch Y/N or my sister again!" He growls. The boys hiss before lunging after Lo'ak. Y/N being the closest tries to calm them down, trying to stop them from hitting one another.

"Stop!! Stop it!!" She screams trying to find a way to rip them apart from one another. From the corner of her eyes she sees Neteyam stride over.

Y/N let's out a sigh seeing him walk over to them. She seems relived thinking the older boy would break them apart but to her surprise he punches one of the boys down before landing a kick in the stomach of Ao'nung.

"Hold on!! "

"Stop it"

"That's so stupid" Kiri yells walking to stand beside Y/N. Knowing how much trouble they'll be in for this Y/N sighs out annoyed. She had to stop this or her father will have her head as well as Ao'nung's.

"Ow my tail"

"My ear, let go!"

"He's got my ear!!! "

"Guys!!! Seriously! Stop it!"

Rolling her eyes, Y/N takes a step forward intending on stopping the group. But she stumbles. She feels a familiar heat take over, her vision slightly blurring. She stills, trying to calm down her heart rate.

"Y/N?" Kiri asks concerned. Y/N tries to catch her footing but the black splotches in her vision prevent her from doing so. Her eyes roll back as she is sucked into a void. Her body falling onto the sand motionless.

"Y/N!!!"

Kiri's piercing scream seemed to stop the boys mid-punch. Ao'nung and Neteyam are quick to move towards the unconscious Y/N, as Lo'ak is still under two of the boys.

"Y/N!" Neteyam and Ao'nung call hysterically, reaching her body which Kiri held close to her.

Kiri looked terrified making eye contact with Neteyam who is the first to reach them. He pulls the unconscious girl into his arms, feeling her body completely go limp, ignoring everyone around him. His trembling hands try to shake her awake, mummering slient prayers to Ewya.

"Is she breathing!!?" Ao'nung gasps leaning over Neteyam to get a better look. His heart raced. He knew this was a vision, he hated the thought of waiting it out but her lack of movement was new. And scary. He couldn't seem to catch her breathing.

Neteyam checks her over, it looked like she had stopped breathing as her lips began to turn a darker shade of purple. She felt cold to the touch, his heart dropped to his stomach.

"Fuck" he growls under his breath repositioning her body as he squeezes her nose, tilting her head up as he gently places his lips over hers, breathing air in. He ignored the rapid beating of his heart as he felt her soft cold lips get enclosed by his.

Lo'ak manages to get free running towards them seeing Neteyam breathe life back into the girl. After the third try Y/N gasps jolting up. Her eyes widen as she tries to understand where she was. Neteyam pulls her close to his body, cradling her. Trying to calm her down after seeing the panic in her eyes.

"Shhh, it's ok. Shhh" he says as Y/N holds his hand for support.

"Neteyam..." she whispers back holding back tears. Her thoughts seem to get scrambled as she tried to piece together what she had seen. She felt like she was drowning.

Seeing his sister in distress and in Neteyam's arms Ao'nung pushes Kiri aside. "Y/N" Aonung calls making her turn to him. When they lock eyes Ao'nung gets the confirmation he needs. It was a vision. And Y/N looked terrified from what she saw.

"Give her to me" Ao'nung demands taking Neteyam off guard. Unconsciously his grip tightens as he stares the Metkayinan boy down. Just as he's about to retort back he gets caught off when Jake runs in. His eyes furious. From hearing the commotion as he was near by, he ran. His disappointment reaching a new height seeing his children in a scuffle with the chiefs son.

"What the hell is going on here!!" He demands seeing all the boys bruised and battered up. His eyes dance from Na'vi to Na'vi landing on Y/N who slowly sits up still in Neteyam's arms.

Feeling anger surge throughout him he looks to his sons. "With me, NOW!" He demands as Kiri quickly goes after Jake. Lo'ak reluctantly follows knowing he had no room for argument.

Neteyam looks down at Y/N seeing as she was able to catch her breath. Before he can ask if she's ok, Ao'nung snatches the girl from under him. Ao'nung gestures to Jake who was waiting, Neteyam glares the boy down before getting up.

He begins to follow his family, looking back to see Y/N being held bridal style by Ao'nung. His heart ached. He desperately wanted to see if she was alright, see her smile at him and reassure him she was ok.

Ao'nung began to walk the other way.

Y/N peeks over at Neteyam, her eyes still filled with fear.

~~~~~~~~

"What was the one thing I asked? The one thing?" Jake growls pulling the boys inside the hut. Neteyam and Lo'ak lock eyes before answering in unison.

"Stay out of trouble"

"Stay out of trouble! That's right"

"It was my fault" Neteyam begins taking a step forwards. He tries to stand in between his father and his brother who looked guilty. Jake holds up his hand in warning.

"I don't think so, you've got to stop taking the heat for this knucklehead" Jake replies his eyes on his younger son. Neteyam begrudgingly licks his lips glancing at his brother.

"Look dad, Ao'nung was picking on Kiri. Called her a freak" Lo'ak exclaims throwing his hands up. Jake stops mid sentence taking in what his son had told him. He felt conflicted.

"And they were pushing Y/N around for defending Kiri! They...T-They hurt her!" Lo'ak says his voice cracking at the thought. When Y/N hand landed on the ground scraping her chin. Lo'ak felt so helpless.

Jake freezes up. Why would Ao'nung, her own brother allow such thing?

"Is that when she passed out?" Jake asks, referring to when he saw Y/N struggling to stay conscious in Neteyam's arms.

Neteyam tenses up shaking his head. He wipes his bloodly lip before replying. "No. She...passed out afterwards" he says his head deep in thought. This was exactly what Kiri told him about. Except this time, she wasn't breathing. It couldn't have been a heat stroke. It had to be something else.

Jake let's out a deep sigh turning to Lo'ak. "Go apologize to Ao'nung"

"What?!" Neteyam sighs at his brother surprise. Unconsciously licking his lips, which stung like crazy.

"He's the chief's son, you understand? I don't care how you do it, just go make peace. Just go" he says dismissing Lo'ak. He grumbles before leaving the Marui.

Shaking his head, Neteyam begins to follow his brother when his father stops him.

"Hey, so what the other guys look like?" He asks as he didn't quite catch their state since he was blinded by rage at the moment. Neteyam smirks slightly.

"Worse"

"That's good"

"A lot worse" Neteyam adds making Jake chuckle. Before he can leave Jake stops him again.

"I want you to apologize to Ronal. For her daughter getting involved" he says making Neteyam nod automatically. It was an order, he would oblige. "Yes sir" he replies making Jake crack a small smile.

"Get outta here"

________________________________

I LOVED this scene in the movie, my boy Neteyam being all fierce.

-Author

Tag List:

@blushsage @avatar4life @lilgurlbeoncrack @anxietydrogz @yeosxxx

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tcwmatchmakingau · 8 months

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Take a Chance (Part 1)

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Rating: General (but MDNI)

Summary: Crosshair finally caves and sets up an appointment with Right to Love. He doesn’t expect much out of it, but what he gets is softer and brighter than even he could ask for.

Warnings: Crosshair angst (because that’s a warning I guess); peep my matchmaker OC Tal, love them dearly; brotherly teasing

A/N: @wolffegirlsunite submitted a prompt about Crosshair at carnivals and I just kinda…ran with it. In this AU, the Citadel never happened, so Echo is not with the Batch.

WC: 3.2k

Crosshair had mastered the art of patience a long time ago. He had to; it was a requirement of his specialization as a sniper. Sitting for long, boring hours in a secured hideout, there had been times on missions where he didn’t move for hours, at minimum. One learned how to be patient when all one had was time to pass. He thrived in those situations. After all, it was what he was made for.

What he hadn’t yet mastered was the art of civilian life. He’d rather perch in the branches of some scraggly pine on some far-off Mid-Rim world, teeth chattering in his bucket from the cold, than sit here in this waiting room. Despite the facade this damned service had so clearly cultivated to be comforting, he felt on edge, nerves screaming at him. Soft music chimed pleasantly from the speakers hanging from the ceiling corners. Vanilla, warm and inviting, cloyed in his nose. Adorning the walls, right, cheerful posters touted sickeningly saccharine slogans. We’ll help you find your path! and At Right to Love, we’ll make sure your love is right for you!

His upper lip curled in the barest hint of a scowl. Karking hell, why had he let Wrecker talk him into this?

With a slight shake of his head, Crosshair refocused on the datapad resting in his lap. He was supposed to fill out this questionnaire to let the matchmakers do their job, but all he could think about was the vulnerability of it all. He had to just…give away personal information? Just like that? Kriff, even his brothers had given up getting him to talk about his feelings before he was ready.

Leading him to another worry, one he’d never admit out loud, and certainly wasn’t about to admit to himself. Was he ready for this?

His first impulse was, yes of course. He’s Crosshair, member of one of the most elite squadrons of clone troopers in the entire existence of the Grand Army of the Republic. Clone Force 99 didn’t back down from challenges, and had a 100% mission success rate.

Or at least, they did. When the GAR still existed. When the war still raged and when clones’ lives were valued less than dirt.

He’d answered exactly three of the twenty-five questions so far. The fourth question, “How would you best describe your personality?” presented options that felt so…restrictive. Was he a) shy and reserved, b) expressive and open, c) humorous but private, d) uncomplicated and easy-going, or e) other?

Crosshair had been labeled as “other” his entire life. Frustration simmered in his chest, hot and annoying.

Just as he was about to stand, chuck the datapad back at the receptionist, and storm out, the receptionist in question cleared her throat.

“You don’t have to answer every single question, darlin’,” she said, smacking her gum. “That’s just to help us get started.”

He felt the knot of anxiety in his chest loosen in spite of himself. “Anyone ever turn in a blank form?”

Her dark eyes met his, narrowed behind square spectacles, before she shook her head with a reluctant grin. “There’s a first time for everythin’. We’re all about firsts here.”

“Yeah.” He huffed, looking back down at the datapad. The rest of the questions were similarly vague and aggravating as the personality one, but by the time he reached the last one, he was surprised to find that he’d filled in nearly half of the responses.

Sweeping his gaze across the waiting room once more, he couldn’t help but pick out the imperfections, the way that that one paint stroke lifted some of the first coat underneath there by the corner, or the way that the ceiling tile above him only appeared symmetrical but every third one was slightly shorter, or the way that the receptionist’s eyeliner had one, tiny, nearly imperceptible gap where it had snagged over her skin. He found that the skin around his nail beds was dry and cracked, red and angry—a nervous habit he’d picked up shortly after the war ended.

Quit stalling, he snarled to himself.

The receptionist gave him a fleeting smile as he crossed the room to deposit the datapad on her desk. He wished she wouldn’t.

“One of our case workers will be with you shortly, dear,” she said.

He returned to his seat, silent, apprehensive.

He didn’t have to wait long; at least the receptionist was right about that. Not even fifteen minutes later, a short, kindly individual with a buzzcut and piercings pushed open the faux-wooden door leading to the back. Crosshair appraised their appearance quickly, an old habit. Black eyeliner on their bottom waterline, round, unframed glasses, a black T-shirt with some indie band Cross had never heard of: he hated to admit it, but the sight of someone dressed so casually put him at ease. Whatever he’d been expecting, it certainly wasn’t this.

“Crosshair?” they asked, as if there was anyone else in this damned waiting room.

Still, Crosshair rose, toothpick clenched between his teeth. Quiet as a wraith, he followed who he assumed would be his case worker down a labyrinth of hallways. Behind a few of the closed doors, the familiar tones of regs’ voices drifted to him, counterpointed by the unfamiliar strains of other case workers.

At last, his adorned case worker pushed open a door and gestured for Crosshair to enter first.

Slinking past, Crosshair took in every detail at once. Above the corner desk were at least a dozen framed holoscans, most of them featuring his mystery case worker and two others, a beaming brunette woman and a laid-back, dark-skinned man. Crystals of various colors, cuts, and properties sat scattered across the side table nearest the futon; a tapestry arched across the ceiling. One lone plant, a healthy looking thing with glossy castleton green leaves, breathed life into the room from one corner.

“I’m Tal,” the case worker said as they closed the door behind them. “Make yourself comfy. Or don’t. Everything here is under your control.”

Crosshair shot a glance at Tal, head tilting just slightly, so minutely that Tal probably missed it. He hesitated for just a moment before sinking into the futon, the silky black fabric cushioning him as he tucked his feet up.

“Tea?” Tal asked.

Poison, came the immediate, instinctive thought.

“No, thanks,” he said.

Tal shrugged. “Suit yourself.” As they poured steaming water into a waiting mug, they glanced at him. “So, Crosshair, here’s how this works. I’ll ask you a few questions, you can ask me some, and after our meeting, I’ll get to work matching you to some of our clients, yeah?”

“Fine.” Cross shifted the toothpick between his teeth, the poky bit softened and no longer quite so poky. He’d need to grab a fresh one soon.

For a moment, Cross simply watched as Tal scooped honey into their tea mug, spoon clinking softly as they stirred the drink. The faint scent of…was that chamomile? drifted to him, and he nearly wished he’d accepted the offer.

Nearly.

“Let’s start with the basics.” Tal set the mug down on a cork coaster. “Why are you here?”

Crosshair quirked an eyebrow, leveling his best unimpressed stare at Tal—who, to his surprise, matched Crosshair’s energy.

“That’s starting with the basics?”

Tal shrugged. “Would you rather I coerce answers on these blank questions?” They waggled a datapad in one hand.

Sucking on his teeth, all Crosshair could do was shake his head.

“Great, because I’m sure you hate having teeth pulled as much as I hate pulling them,” Tal said. “What brings you in?”

“My brother,” Crosshair said flatly. Not technically a lie.

“And is that Tech, Hunter, or Wrecker?”

He clamped down on the toothpick, the fragile wood snapping. “Wrecker.”

Tal typed on the datapad for a moment. “Got it. So, no other reason, nothing more self-motivated?”

“No.”

With a hum, Tal typed some more on the ’pad before setting it to the side. They took a tentative sip of their tea, a smile of satisfaction curling over their lips.

“Tell me if I get any of this wrong, m’kay?” Tal said. “The war ends last year. You and your brothers get to live a normal life, and you each try dating. Maybe it works for them, maybe it doesn’t, but it certainly doesn’t work for you. None of the people you go out with can get past the fact that you’re a sniper, or a science experiment, or just an ass. So you stop going out.

“But your brothers don’t. In fact, one by one, they make their way here, to this very office in fact, find themselves partners, and settle into the cushy civilian life you just can’t wrap your head around. You’re happy for them, because they’re your brothers. But you’re also annoyed by them, because they have what you just can’t seem to find.”

Crosshair bristled at the nonchalance with which this individual, this…observer, read him for filth. Removing the now-shattered toothpick from his mouth, Crosshair forced himself to go through the ritual of discarding the broken one, selecting a fresh one from the pouch at his belt, and slipping the dry wood into the pocket of his cheek.

He avoided Tal’s gaze the entire time. In their calculating gaze, Crosshair saw himself reflected.

“You got part of it wrong,” he eventually said. “I never tried in the first place.”

And it was true. He’d been…arrogant, more than usual, refusing to even entertain the idea of finding a fulfilling relationship outside of his vode. He’d seen the way people looked at him on the streets, even here in the capital, where no one should stand out. He couldn’t stomach the thought of having to put himself on parade just to find happiness.

“Well,” Tal said, “I can’t be right all of the time.”

A wry smile twisted Crosshair’s mouth. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad experience after all.

By the time that Crosshair left the RTL building, his stomach crawled with ants. He couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or excitement or some combination of both, but he couldn’t remember feeling so hopeful in a long, long time. Tal had given him their comm frequency and promised to answer any questions if Cross thought of them; and swore that as soon as they found him a match, they’d let him know. In return, Crosshair had given his word that he would think of an answer to the last question Tal had posed before their time was up. “What kind of date do you want to go on?”

Given that he’d never been on any, and certainly didn’t ingest media that portrayed such things, he hadn’t been able to give an answer. He hadn’t even wanted to lie, instead defaulting to his training, the instilled need to have the entire picture before making a decision. Kark, this meant he had to do research.

Climbing the stairs to the apartment he shared with his brothers, he took the time to school his expression into its usual blank mask. The last thing he needed was for any of them to catch a whiff of where he’d been. He hadn’t even told Wrecker he would go to the matchmaking service; he’d just…left in the middle of the morning after they had all gone their separate ways.

He lingered in the hall just long enough to determine who was already home. Judging by the raucous laughter, snide remarks, and grumbling complaints, it seemed all three of them were.

Great.

The door slid open and whooshed shut behind him as he stepped over the threshold. From the living room, Wrecker’s head peeked around the corner, a broad grin on his scarred face.

"Was wonderin’ where you went,” he called.

Cross ambled to the living room, pushed Wrecker back out of the way with one thin hand on his brother’s face. Laughing, Wrecker over-sold the push and landed squarely on his ass on the tile floor.

Plopping into the beige, worn-out recliner, Cross sighed, running a hand through his short silver hair. He’d need a haircut soon.

“Out,” he finally answered.

Hunter fixed him with a look, eyebrows scrunched. “‘Out’?”

Crosshair nodded once. Kriff, he should have just gone to his room, avoided this whole mess, but he knew his brothers; once they got on the trail of something, they couldn’t let it go.

Wrecker lightly kicked the recliner—thought a light kick from him meant that the chair still slid a few inches across the floor with an uncomfortable screech. Hunter winced from his spot on the couch.

“Did you go you-know-where?” Wrecker asked, voice in a stage-whisper, as if Hunter and Tech weren’t right kriffin’ there.

Cross rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I believe Wrecker is referring to the matchmaking service known as Right to Love, which has helped clones find life partners,” Tech interjected with a glance up from his datapad. “A service to which you have been incredibly averse.”

“Hey, I thought I was convincing!” Wrecker’s voice dripped with indignation. “Wasn’t I, Cross?”

Crosshair cut a glance at his older brother. “No.”

“Aww, Cross, you’re no fun,” Wrecker whined. He stood and lumbered to the kitchen.

Crosshair met Hunter’s gaze. Knowing his brother could probably smell the karking vanilla candle and chamomile tea on his clothes, he had tried walking through exhaust vents to douse the scent. But the way that Hunter’s eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring, set Crosshair’s heart sinking.

“Well,” Hunter said with a knowing look, “wherever you went, hope you had a good time.”

The rest of the evening passed quietly, the four of them settling into their usual routines. Dinner ate, holoseries watched, old stories swapped, the clock ticked by with an aching slowness. Even as his brothers recounted the latest triple-date ideas they’d had, he couldn’t help but fixate on the building anticipation in his limbs, a jittery, twitchy feeling that had him on edge. All he wanted to do was shut himself in his room and research.

As soon as the clock showed 10 PM he bid his brothers goodnight and forced himself to walk normally to his room. The second the door slid shut, he rushed to his desk and booted up his datapad, one of Tech’s old ones.

While the device blipped to life, he lowered himself into his desk chair and gazed at his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window, cast in ghostly blue from the ’pad homescreen. Eyes wide with apprehension, Crosshair almost didn’t recognize himself. He forced himself to look beyond the mirror image and focus on the scintillating lights of the ecumenopolis. Skyscrapers reached for the stars, lights dotting every floor in a mockery of the galaxy that laid beyond the polluted skies. Speeders whirred past, traffic lanes cruising steadily. Somewhere out there, came the unbidden thought, somewhere out there was the person for him.

He snapped the datapad shut.

Someone being right for him meant he was right for somebody, and that thought alone was too much to bear.

He went to bed trying to ignore the heated worm of jealousy burrowing into his spine at the sounds of his brothers’ laughter.

The next morning, he awoke to the insistent blip-blip-blip of his comlink. Peering with bleary eyes at the tiny screen, it took his sleep-addled brain a moment to parse together why an unsaved frequency was contacting him this early. A glance to the time revealed that it was, in fact, mid-morning. Still. Early for him.

A few possible matches, the message read. Would you like to come in and chat about them, have me send you their profiles, or just pick for you?

His eyes shot open, suddenly wide awake, as the message sunk in. Sitting upright in bed, he hesitated over his reply, thumbs dancing aimlessly over the keypad. This was sooner than he expected. The fact that there was more than one match made his stomach lurch—there was no way that was right.

A few? was what he ended up writing back.

Correct, came the reply. Then three bouncing dots appeared, Tal typing another message. There’s no rush. You’re in control here.

The reminder did little to calm Crosshair’s racing thoughts. Looking over at his reflection in the window, he grimaced at himself. He’d gone to sleep with his clothes on, his short hair spiked up on one side of his head from the awkward sleeping position he’d been in, and blanket marks criss-crossed his face. He at least needed a solid fifteen minutes to look put together, and then hopefully he would feel awake enough to compose a reasonable reply.

And so, fifteen minutes later, he perched on the edge of the living room recliner, comlink in hand as he stared down at the blinking cursor. He’d been given choices. So few people gave him choices, at least before the war ended. He decided he liked having options.

So absorbed in wracking his brain for a coherent response, he completely missed the tell-tale sounds of Wrecker sneaking up behind him until it was too late. His brother snatched the comlink out of his grasp. Cross reached for his brother, but Wrecker was faster than he looked and darted to the other side of the couch, nimble as a Nexu.

“Wrecker!” Crosshair growled. “Give. It. Back.”

Wrecker’s belly laugh echoed off the walls. “You’ve been actin’ weird since you got home. I wanna see why.” He glanced down at the comlink, lips moving as he silently read the messages to himself, then his mismatched eyes widened.

“You did go you-know-where!”

Crosshair sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If I say that I did, can I have my comlink back?”

“Maybe.”

“Kark, fine. Yes, I went. Now, give it back.” This time, as Cross strode forward to nick the comlink back, Wrecker let him, a ear-splitting grin breaking over his face.

Cross squinted, unease seeping into his veins at the mirthful glint in his brother’s eyes. “What did you do?”

He whipped the comlink up to his face and glared at the screen. There, in his latest sent messages: Pick for me!

Chuckling, but already backing away, Wrecker flashed him one final smirk before tearing down the hallway to his room. Crosshair sighed, shoulders deflating. Kark it all to hell, now he’d never hear the end of it.

The comlink bli-bli-b-b-blipped in his grasp as several messages came through at once. Groaning, he collapsed into the couch, head in his hands, determined to ignore the damned device, but as the notifications continued, he ground his teeth and peeked.

A torrent of messages from the group chat with his vode.

Crosshair’s going on a date!!!

I could have told you that. -Tech

Proud of you, vod’ika.

Does this mean we can go on QUADRUPLE dates!?!?!?!?

Calm down, Wrecker, let the man actually meet the person he’s being set up with before you start planning.

We’re gonna have so much fun!!!!

I can see why Crosshair chose not to reveal this to us. -Tech

And at the bottom of the notifications, one lone message from Tal: Great. I’ll send you information about your match as soon as it’s confirmed. Thank you for trusting me with this, Crosshair.

#tcw matchmaking au #clone matchmaking au #The Bad Batch #prompt response

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venusiancharisma · 1 month

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Ancestral Karmas Con't

Our natal charts hold valuable information about the karmic patterns and challenges we may have inherited from our ancestors. By understanding these astrological indicators, we can work towards releasing and transforming ancestral karma. Let's explore the various factors that can help identify ancestral karma and how to find guidance for healing in our natal charts.

I. Planets and points associated with ancestral karma

A. South Node (Ketu)

1. Represents past life experiences, ingrained habits, and karmic patterns

2. Indicates areas of life where we may feel stuck or comfortable

B. Saturn

1. Represents karmic lessons, limitations, and responsibilities

2. Highlights areas where we need to develop discipline and overcome obstacles

C. Chiron

1. Represents deep-seated wounds and opportunities for healing

2. Indicates areas where we may carry ancestral pain or trauma

D. 12th House

1. Represents the unconscious mind, hidden influences, and past life experiences

2. Indicates areas where we may carry ancestral baggage or secrets

II. Signs and aspects that may indicate ancestral karma

A. Water signs (Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces)

1. Represent emotional patterns, family dynamics, and intuitive connections

2. Indicate areas where we may carry ancestral emotional baggage

B. Cardinal signs (Aries, Cancer, Libra, Capricorn)

1. Represent initiating energy, family roles, and relationship patterns 2. Indicate areas where we may carry ancestral patterns of behavior or responsibility

C. Aspects to the South Node, Saturn, or Chiron

1. Conjunctions, squares, and oppositions to these points may intensify karmic challenges

2. Trines and sextiles to these points may provide opportunities for healing and growth

III. Finding guidance for releasing ancestral karma in the natal chart A. North Node (Rahu)

1. Represents our path of growth, new experiences, and karmic liberation

2. Indicates areas of life where we can focus on personal development and healing

B. Aspects to the North Node

1. Planets in conjunction, trine, or sextile to the North Node can support our growth

2. Planets in square or opposition to the North Node may challenge us to overcome karmic obstacles

C. Houses and signs occupied by the North Node, Saturn, and Chiron

1. The house and sign placement of these points can provide specific guidance for healing

2. Engaging with the energies and themes of these houses and signs can support karmic release

IV. Additional tips for releasing ancestral karma

A. Engage in practices that support emotional healing and self-reflection

1. Therapy, counseling, or support groups

2. Journaling, meditation, or energy healing modalities

B. Connect with ancestors and family history

1. Research family stories, documents, and photographs

2. Engage in ancestral healing rituals or ceremonies

C. Practice forgiveness and letting go

1. Forgive yourself and your ancestors for past mistakes or traumas

2. Release attachment to ancestral patterns that no longer serve you

In astrology, certain degrees in the zodiac are believed to hold special significance and can indicate ancestral karma in a natal chart. These degrees are often referred to as "critical degrees" or "karmic degrees." Here are some of the most notable degrees that may indicate ancestral karma:

0° of any sign:

Known as the "Aries Point" or "World Axis"

Indicates a powerful starting point or initiation

May represent ancestral karma related to leadership, pioneering, or self-identity

4° of any sign:

Associated with the idea of "rooting" or "grounding"

May indicate ancestral karma related to family, security, or emotional foundations

8°-10° of any sign:

Known as the "Aries Decanate"

May indicate ancestral karma related to initiative, action, or self-assertion

13°-15° of any sign:

Known as the "Libra Decanate"

May indicate ancestral karma related to relationships, partnerships, or social harmony

17° of any sign:

Associated with the idea of "release" or "letting go"

May indicate ancestral karma related to surrender, forgiveness, or spiritual growth

19°-21° of any sign:

Known as the "Gemini Decanate"

May indicate ancestral karma related to communication, learning, or adaptability

26°-28° of any sign:

Known as the "Pisces Decanate"

May indicate ancestral karma related to spirituality, compassion, or self-sacrifice

29° of any sign:

Known as the "Anaretic Degree" or "Karmic Degree"

Indicates a point of completion, culmination, or intense karma

May represent ancestral karma that needs to be resolved or released

It's important to note that the interpretation of these degrees can vary depending on the specific sign and house they fall in, as well as the planets or points that occupy them. Additionally, other factors in the natal chart, such as aspects and planetary configurations, can also provide insight into ancestral karma.

To gain a comprehensive understanding of ancestral karma in a natal chart, it's essential to consider the overall chart pattern, the placement of the lunar nodes, and any significant aspects or configurations involving Saturn, Chiron, and the 12th house. I offer personal astrology readings for any topic imaginable - $49.00 is my full price until Summer.

Remember that while these degrees can indicate ancestral karma, they are not the sole determinants. A skilled astrologer can help synthesize the various elements of a natal chart to provide a more personalized and nuanced interpretation of an individual's karmic inheritance and potential for healing.

#astrology aspects #astrology #zodiac #natal chart #sagittarius #love #astro notes #libra #astro observations #capricorn #virgo #astro community #astrology signs #astro placements

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chiropteracupola · 3 months

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now that I have finished watching All The Sharpe That There Is, we have made a Tier List of our Very Strong Opinions. behold.

further (condensed) commentary from yours truly and usual partner-in-crime @sailorpants under the readmore:

S: Eagle, Company, Battle

Eagle: 'the plot of this one makes sense,' 'it really does show (well!) that this was the first book,' 'one of the ones we rewatch,' 'a good episode of television!'

Company: 'Pete Postlethwaite is a great actor -- Hakeswill made me want to throw up,' 'the lads and also the horrors,' 'genuine emotions were elicited,' 'well-established team dynamic at this point'

Battle: 'bad men! good men! beautifulest ladies!,' 'if Perkins must die then at least he gets a really cool death and to be bridal-carried by Harper and mourned by everybody,' 'the fucked-up love square,' 'plot hangs together well,' 'this episode has the most women of any Sharpe episode: four,' 'I have watched this episode three times', 'these rewatches were with lust (for the beautifulest ladies)'

A: Enemy

Enemy: 'decently written,' 'all the lads are there,' 'type of enemy Hakeswill becomes isn't as compelling and the inconsistency brings down both his episodes,' 'egregious women-tossing,' 'it is cool that there are other women; however Sharpe would not do That,' 'French people allowed to be interesting as a treat,' 'Sharpe and Teresa SOULMATES quote [screams]'

B: Rifles, Honour, Sword, Siege, Waterloo

Rifles: 'bit of a rough start,' 'the first half is good and then it gets Weird... phobias of sorts are In There', 'TERESA!'

Honour: 'extremely cool fights in this one,' 'Ramona!!,' 'some of the best Chosen Men banter in the whole series,' 'fake-Sharpe's-death plotline is quite well done,' 'unfortunate nonsense'

Sword: 'epic Harris moments cannot earn this episode a better ranking,' 'good casting and the background characters are cool,' 'the Lass deserved much better than this episode gave her'

Siege: 'oh, the chemical warfare episode,' 'they've learned to workshop their plans since Honour,' 'made me believe that Sharpe and Jane's relationship could have worked out, 'plot hangs together well (rare in a Sharpe episode)'

Waterloo: 'the scale of it doesn't quite sit right,' 'pretty good episode,' 'Paul Bettany is uncanny and I don't like whatever it is is going on with him,' 'getting the gang back together for one last Lads Adventure!'

C: Regiment, Mission, Revenge, Justice, Challenge

Regiment: 'more time with the Chosen Men could have saved this,' 'Company was a better 'the army sucks' episode,' 'the wet soupy episode'

Mission: 'it takes me two minutes to remember what happens in this one whenever I think about it,' 'again epic Harris moments cannot save this episode,' 'quite a high SCUM score,' '[impact font] MARK STRONG'

Revenge: 'ehhhhhh,' 'Lucille's nail-gun is the only thing that is cool and fun,' 'weird vibes about it,' 'Ducos' Bond-villain stuff is needless escalation,' 'Frederickson's ending is fun'

Justice: 'he's a cop in this one,' 'don't like Hagman's mustache,' 'Jane plotline no good, '[from sailorpants] when I actually watch this one I'm gonna have THOUGHTS'

Challenge: 'would rank this higher but I do have receipts on the fact that I was having a Bad Time throughout,' 'Toby Stephens makes this worth watching,' 'almost everything else about it is bad,' 'high points in every SCUM category,' 'four whole named plot-relevant speaking-role-having women! haven't had that many since Battle!,' 'TOBY STEPHENS CUNTSERVACIOUS LITTLE OUTFITS'

D: Gold, Peril

Gold: 'we don't need to discuss why we are ranking it like this'

Peril: 'the secret good Peril that lives in my head is so cool but unfortunately it is not real,' 'they are trying to have Themes and it is not working,' 'casting director is now finding conventionally attractive men instead of weirdguys with interesting faces,' 'Daniel Deever should have his own entire show but unfortunately this is a show about Richard Sharpe (I would write about him so much if I felt that I could do him justice but therein lies the Research Pit)' 'most important point is that he has a locket with Antonia's picture but the rest I could take or leave and I will probably leave it'

#em is posting about sharpe #sharpe #<- we are feeling confident and silly so shall maintag this #for a bit of translation on our commentary the SCUM score is borrowed from the podcast kill james bond #stands for 'Smarm; Cultural insensitivity; Unprovoked violence; Misogyny' and it is a helpful tool when watching sharpe and yelling at it #(mostly for yelling at it)#kill james bond is a very good podcast which we highly recommend that you listen to #this post is kill richard sharpe which we hope will be a component of said podcast one day. but until then we have. This post I guess.

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cowboyhorsegirl · 9 months

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Not My First Rodeo (An 1872 SteveTony Fic Reclist🤠💫)

This reclist is a fill for the @stevetonygames bingo square "Consequence" and the Resolutions Challenge for Team Future :)

a slow ticking wilderness by @starvels (2.4k, M)

Three weeks ago, Tony burned his hands in his forge. Since then, he's been unable to use them, useless and listless. Relying on the kindness of strangers ain't exactly his expertise. Luckily, Sheriff Steve Rogers has good hands and a heart hale enough to keep offering bits of help and hope to Tony, no matter that he ain't all that good at accepting them.

RATING: Five out of five heart-happy cowboys, 🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠

What if I told you this was literally the first (The First!!!) 1872 fic I ever read, which may have been a mistake on my part because it simply set the bar too high, devastatingly high, stratospherically high! This fic feels like wrapping yourself up in a warm blanket fresh out of the dryer while you sit by a beautiful, roaring fire and drink a delicious cup of spiced hot cocoa. Please fulfill all your wildest h/c dreams and desires in the embrace of this lovely window into established relationship 1872 stevetony.

To Break the Bridle by @deervsheadlights (25k, M)

If anyone had told Tony a year ago that he would be herding cattle up on some god-forsaken mountain, in deep winter and out of his own free will, he would've laughed in their face. Were they to show him the blond and blue-eyed reason for his sudden lapse of judgement, however, he might've just understood.

RATING: Two cowboys who are frequently secretly very fond of each other + a new appreciation for the pavlovian potential of duck fat, 🤠🤠🦆

Everyone gather round and say thank you deervsheadlights!! Thank you deer for writing the 1872 Brokeback Mountain AU that we have all been begging for since the moment 1872 comics hit the shelves! This fic was another early 1872 find for me and I simply cannot recommend it enough: the slow burn, the hurt comfort, the romance-this fic does it all masterfully.

but come ye back by @s-hylor (1.2k, T)

When the night is cold and the sky is open, Tony goes to talk to the past Sheriff of Timely.

RATING: one broken cowpoke's heart, but the hurt is tempered by the knowledge that the love perseveres on, 💔

If you have yet to heal from the hurt of 1872 Issue 2, then this is the fic for you. This fic is the best deconstruction of emotion following the Sheriff's death that I have read yet, savage in both it's sadness and it catharsis, and I cannot recommend this highly enough.

A Handsome Stranger Called Death by @isozyme & @sheshopelesse (3.5k, M)

Steve Rogers was an optimist, and he had no sense for the limits of one man with a six-shooter and a strong will, but he was canny enough to know that he wasn’t getting any good done as pig food.

RATING: 10/10 shakes of a rattler's tail 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

Close your eyes and imagine a story that combines Western gothic and desert mysticism and monsterfucking and domestic bliss and now open your eyes bc that fic exists and you're looking at it! The prose is gorgeous, the mythology is arresting, and the characterization is stunning. Plus! This fic comes complete with its own podfic, ready for your joint reading & listening pleasures.

Somebody's Darling by @laireshi (12.9k, T)

Steve wasn't always a sheriff, and Tony didn't always spend his days halfway down a bottle. They met long before Timely.

RATING: the best 1872 rom-com of all time, if rom-com was short for Romantic-Commentary on the Inherent Despondency of War

This fic!!!!!! Is wonderful and delivers a years-long sweeping arc of a wartime romance before dropping you off at the front door of 1872 canon. It's such a heartfelt exploration of love blooming amidst the chaos and tragedy of war, of the way two people keep getting drawn back to each other again and again, of second chances and third chances and fourth, all culminating in a freedom both precarious and precious to be found in the West.

The Strangers You Call Friends by Mireille (1.4k, T)

Stark frustrates Sheriff Rogers, but that doesn't mean he wants to see the man drink himself to death. Timely needs a blacksmith, after all.

RATING: two out of two prettiest blue eyes this side of the Mississippi, at least according to the cowboy locked in the Sheriff's cell for tonight 👀

An incredible pre-canon character study from the POV of Timely's favorite Sheriff. I feel as though this fic is so true to canon characterization and setting that it could honestly constitute the first page of an 1872 novelization. You really sink into Steve's mindset and his perspective on not just Tony's perennial drunkenness, but on his duties to the town as a whole.

Say My Name by citsiurtlanu (2.6k, G)

Steve reminds Tony that there's more to him than the war his weapons were used in.

RATING: a whole cowtown who has been irrevocably changed for the better by the love of two men, 🤠💞🫡🤠💞🫡🤠💞🫡🤠💞🫡

A beautiful canon-compliant fic that pulls at the thread of romance hidden in the rough, vibrant fabric of 1872. There's so much tenderness in this story, it aches in the best way :')

Paradise Blue in 1872 by @cowboyhorsegirl (oh hey that's me!) (500w, T)

Steve imagines this is what it feels like to commit blasphemy, looking at Tony Stark.

RATING: Sheriff Rogers' extremely Catholic-coded erection 🤨🤨

It's about!! the wretched devotion of love, the purgatory of the West, the discovery of a new God in the listless eyes of the saloon's resident patron! A bite-sized character & relationship study that slots itself very neatly within the first 5 pages of 1872 Issue 1 that I hope you read & enjoy :)

whistling dixie by @starvels (1.4k, M)

“Well,” Steve says, voice rough. He takes in another of those sharp breaths and when he exhales, Tony feels it like the forge, billowing heat out into his chest. “Mayhap you best keep that dry, Stark.” He sounds like molten metal, like the best slather of butter over a butt of bread, sounds fair peckish for something more than trail gruel and he’s looking at Tony like Tony’s the place he’s gonna get it. Yes, Tony thinks. It is. Take it. Take me.

RATING: one cowboy (me) who is so, so hungry for stew now 🤠🍲

A masterclass in the 'Food as a Metaphor for Love' ao3 tag, I recommend to all who are hungry for a bit of domestic Western romance or a hearty desert stew. At least one of these appetites will be satisfied by the end of the story, I guarantee!

Blacksmith's Hands by @everybodyilovedies (3.3k, E)

Based in Marvel's 1872 Western Universe, where Tony is a blacksmith and Steve is the town Sheriff. Blacksmith Tony hears Sheriff Steve's birth date is coming up, and decides to give him the present he deserves.

RATING: the number one best birthday present Sheriff Rogers has ever received 🤠🎁

The sweetest, tenderest and yet slightly rough around the edges 1872 PWP you will ever see. I adore Steve and Tony's banter in this fic, the dialogue at the beginning feels like it could have been ripped right out of the comic book panels. And!! There is simply nothing more delightful than the simple intimacy of going from "Stark" and "Sheriff" to "Tony" and "Steve" <3

Unseen, Unheard by @oluka (1k, M)

Tony and Steve have a furtive encounter. Tony wishes they could have more.

RATING: a Sheriff rougher to ride and wilder to tame than a stallion🐎

I could scream forever!!! about the parallels in this story between Tony's alcoholism and his addiction to Steve! The tug-of-war push and pull of their facsimile of a relationship, the hurt that Steve's internal shame over wanting a man inflicts on both him and Tony, the habitual way that Tony debases himself to play up the drunken act and protect him and Steve from any prying eyes. This fic does a truly masterful job of imagining what intimate encounters between Steve and Tony may have looked like within the real confines of the American West.

Going Blacksmithing by @bladeofthenebula27 (1.5k, T)

Blacksmithing only brings in so much money in a small town like Timely, so Tony has to make a little extra money through less respectable means. The Sheriff doesn't approve.

RATING: the prettiest cowpoke you ever did see 🥰🤠

Genderfuck!Tony with a side of possessive Steve all in the year of 1872, what more could one possibly want? There's absolutely nothing more that I love across the multiverse than SteveTony getting to explore their femininity, and this fic brings that dynamic to 1872 absolutely perfectly! :D

BONUS!!!

1872 Meta/Propaganda by @ghosthan

RATING: one out of one new, lifelong 1872 fan (me! 🤠)

An INCREDIBLE primer on the 1872-niverse, including panel screenshots as well as comparisons to 616 characterizations and backstories! I can personally say that this 1872 propaganda is extremely effective (after all, it convinced me to read!!), and gives you juuuust enough information on 1872 to acquaint you with the setting, the characters, and the dynamics at play without simply spoiling the series. In my opinion, this is a highly underrated resource for anyone interested in trying 1872 out, but unsure what to expect.

#fic!#meta #1872 #1872 my beloved #stevetony #my employer's opinions #pinned #evrecs

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nico-esoterica · 2 months

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⭐ How The Next 20 Years Will Affect You Based On Your Outer Planets (1984-2007)

Previous Post: Pluto in Aqua Survival Guide For Millennials & Gen Z (+a bit of alpha)

Notes: Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto can represent conditioned sociopolitical attitudes which inform (or inhibit) the native or that they form on their own/challenge during transits. They can also denote new social influence and leverage (or tools to aid in inhibiting oneself). They create catalysts for shifts in social identity and mindset.

If the system benefits from us underestimating ourselves, we must invest in shameless self belief.

�� Pluto in Scorpio Generation (1984-1996) • — Team A — Saturn in Scorpio / Uranus-Neptune in Sag-Cap / 1984-1985: Making your ideas more accessible, learning how to talk to people, and being more tapped in won’t compromise your integrity—Your need for discretion/privacy will be an asset but think bigger and scale up. A Uranus-Neptune-Pluto sextile presents sudden blessings and opportunities if you’re planning ten steps ahead and grounding your ideas in what’s going to be used everyday decades from now opposed to what’s simply useful but is easily discarded/forgotten. Also, you can be shrewd and popular at the same time. Also, with all of the air supporting the world at large, reaching out to people and forming communities and tribes to last won’t kill you if you’re discerning, I promise. Saturn in Sagittarius / Uranus-Neptune in Sag-Cap / 1986-1988: In a new era where authenticity is king, Sagittarius’ devotion to truth-at-any-cost will help you because you’ll attract an audience and opportunities because the lifestyle you live and perspective you bring is going to make people question if what they consume, partake in, or sell is transparent and honest. Pay attention to the details during Uranus in Gemini to avoid looking foolish because that Aries Neptune trine will amplify and broaden your reach but may obscure the ‘truth’ you seek. Embrace all the blessings but be careful as well. But honestly? Nothing can touch you if you can withstand fickle changes in public opinion because unlike you, they’re afraid of what they’ll find with the truth. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

— Team B — Saturn in Capricorn / Uranus-Neptune in Cap / 1988-1991: You’ve been planning for a future that’s drastically changed—good! Instead of fretting, let Neptune in Aries help you pivot to find your new sense of purpose (you’ll struggle and cry for a bit, I know) so the Pluto in Aqua sextile to whatever house you have after Capricorn can push you to find new goals and aspirations that’ll require your corporate-tier level self-management talents. As long as you quell your anxiety about things being ‘new,’ you’ll avoid being in the big lost group of people who’ll feel disillusioned because following what’s always worked will become obsolete. It’s also good (and healthy) to start accepting any suppressed hobbies or interests you’ve always had because you’ll find a loving community for them now. Go forth and prosper. Saturn in Aquarius / Uranus-Neptune in Cap / 1991-1993: Contrary to what you’ve probably been told—It’s more than OK to do things your own way. You’ve been waiting for it, mostly by surviving, and all three of the major upcoming outer transits are going to help you reclaim that individuality you’ve always had but might’ve been intimidated by outside forces (or yourself!) to suppress. But you’ll be supported by the Uranus-Neptune sextile in Gemini and Aries because it’ll force you to stand on business about where in life you’re willing to venture out on your own into and how defiantly you’re going to prove that anything is possible if you say it is—but the Neptune square to your outers warns that you must stay consistent in that belief or you’ll be fighting ghosts of old paradigms which no longer exist. Are they with us in the room right now? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • Pluto in Sagittarius Generation (1995-2008) • — Team C — Saturn in Pisces / Uranus-Neptune in Cap-Aqua / 1993-1996: You don’t need to sacrifice your well-being for others anymore and it’s safe for you to channel that into something that serves you. You’re in the hot zone of those benefiting the most from Pluto aspecting their outers and it’ll be easier for you to transition to a lifestyle, job market, or even belief system that feels more holistic instead of oppressive. But–and there is a but– I advise you to work on regulating your nervous system (google it) to prevent yourself from catastrophizing when things become uncertain or you just expect the worst to happen because you’ve always lived on the razor’s edge of anxiety. For you, something either has to go right completely or it’s the worst thing ever and with Uranus in Gemini and Neptune in Aries coming up, you keeping your head when the rest of the world doesn’t will be your biggest asset. Saturn in Aries / Uranus-Neptune in Cap-Aqua / 1996-1998: Time still isn’t running out, my loves, and it was never a real concept to begin with. But you’re going to kick off this new period with this renewed sense of action and vigor which’ll be heavily supported by the outer transits. You’re going to be in the group of doers who’ll create cultural eclipses and zeitgeists around your ideas and strategies moving forward. Big steppers and movers and shakers for real.

As much as I love this, I encourage you to plant seeds and plan for what’s ten and twenty steps ahead of you while things go well to help ground you and feel secure because over stimuli from everything going well or taking so much inspired action can also lead to burn out and over-hustling because you’re scared that slowing down means needing to fight to survive again (from Pluto in Cap previously squaring your Saturn). Be bold and flourish because no one will successfully be able to stop you—but at some point, you’ll need to slow down, take everything in, and decompress (as you continue to move of course) otherwise that hamster wheel feeling you hate will never stop.

Saturn in Taurus / Uranus-Neptune in Aqua / 1998-2000: Unbeknownst to you—the current conjunction Uranus is making to your Saturn has been helping you transition into this new cycle. Because you’re slow and careful to ease into a new rhythm of being, being demanded that you simply ‘find your way’ in the chaos just isn’t your speed. What’ll serve you better is finding a small area of life outside of the storm to find beauty or comfort in and focus on what’s easier to perceive you can control.

Dramatic life changes occur when small, seemingly miniscule adjustments happen everyday. In the past, it was easier for you to follow who was in front of you with future planning because that made the most sense. But it left you alienated and disillusioned when circumstances made the map hard to follow, especially since your group experienced your 20s Saturn square to your natal Saturn at the start of the pandemic. Therefore, your game plans were ruined or put on indefinite hold. Pluto in Aqua will amplify this—But your strength will be in what you perceive to be a weakness—Mapping a steady course to joy is how you flourish day by day. And that can be achieved by tuning the rest of the world out and inventing your new tried and true. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

— Team D — Saturn in Gemini / Uranus-Neptune in Aqua-Pisces / 2000-2003: You often find security in consensus—If it works for this person, that person, and the other and if you’ve got the right data, it makes sense. During Pluto in Cap, many of you were burnt out and depressed because from the inconjunction to your Saturn, you were expected to conform to an environment your thoughts and ideas weren’t encouraged in. You may even have been called ‘mouthy’ or obstinate. Neptune and Saturn in Pisces stimulating it are currently making you question the line between reason and belief.

Your group’s unique issue is that with all of the air in your generation, all of your natural mental stimuli being added to with Pluto in Aqua and Uranus in Gemini will help you take risks where others won’t because you’re simply more adaptable because you’ve had to be. With Neptune in Aries occupying your 5th soon and with everything combined, there’s a danger of being so tapped in or even feeling so spread out and ungrounded that nothing is satisfying. It’ll be good to check in with yourself every so often to ensure you still feel connected to what’s real and important to you. Saturn in Cancer / Uranus-Neptune in Aqua-Pisces / 2003-2005: Contrary to popular belief from the media, your family and peers, etc, you’re going to do just fine and will actually benefit from all of the cerebral–rugrat energy shifts in the air pushing you to trust that you can live well even if you’re worried and anxious. There’s a comfort in the anxiety and doomerism you may be used to because your earliest memories are scarcity based.

It leads to this shell-shock sort of a feeling of shutting down and tapping out and surviving on auto-pilot and I want to encourage you to lean into your hyper awareness of yourself and start thinking of yourself as someone who can adjust and make every day work for them because your connectedness to your body will be an unexpected gift while the world over stimulates itself and seeks external validation opposed to internal wisdom and self-nurturing. If you can learn to see your deep emotional reservoir as a resource to have compassion for yourself and take inspired action which will benefit you and others when times feel uncertain, you can avoid feeling adrift or lost in this new environment.

Saturn in Leo / Uranus-Neptune in Aqua-Pisces / 2005-2007: Many of you were raised into environments where you were told that you needed to keep your head down and mind what you were told to survive and that you had ‘lofty’ dreams or ideas. You were born with an insatiable drive for success in an austere world and you always felt that you wanted ‘too much’ compared to others while you suffered with a sense of unworthiness. Pluto in Capricorn transiting to Aqua gives you an opportunity to overcome this

—But it requires that you trust your own power 150% and ignore what the environment or what any naysayers tell you. Things don’t have to look bleak if that isn’t the world you want to live in. With your Saturn opposing Pluto for two decades, you have an incredibly rare opportunity to grow at an incomprehensible rate because unlike many others, it’s going to burn in your bones to ‘become’ something. Something big. Something powerful. Your dreams are in your hands—Especially with Neptune and Uranus giving you deep soul urges to blossom. But your self worth needs work and you’re going to have to be the change you seek. Don’t wait for the world to give you anything. Take it, grip it, BE it.

#astrology #pluto in aquarius #millennials #gen z #astrology transits

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