#astrum answers

[brimstarz]

Be careful, there's this guy that asks ponies what they looked like shaved. Just thought to let you know, Astrum!

" I have a human form. "

[astrum-aetherium]

What do you think Henry whispered in Camilla's ear at the end? It's a moment that really stuck with me somehow and I love hearing theories about it

what can possibly be more personal, more ponderous and intimate than i love you?

i'm sure this is something everyone who has read TSH has previously wondered about. i know i have. what i also know is that the most common theory is "live forever", and yes — it would make sense, given that henry is undeniably a devoted little teacher's pet to julian, but it does seem a little melodramatic to me (specifically because julian did abandon them all in the end as well, lol). henry going out with a bang (literally) wouldn't be defined by something as simple as that, however much meaning is attached to it in theory. besides, we've all heard that theory a million times over. i'll offer a new one.

he's goddamn pretentious. to the bone. he refused to take his SATs and thereby consciously denied himself the opportunity to attend any prestigious schools (which he would've certainly gotten into and dominated) for singularly aesthetic reasons. you simply can't get more pretentious than that. i always say that he's too intelligent for his own good — to the point it no longer benefits him at times. just too smart to possess any ability to reflect on himself. almost amusing in that way.

therefore, i believe it was something along the lines of a riddle — something that would keep camilla puzzling over it for a long time succeeding his death. and yes, you can say that his suicide was an impulsive decision and all that, but he had been (even verbally) entertaining suicidal ideology way before he actually went through with it. plus, he just seems like someone who would have something like that — his last words — memorized and ready to go at all times, specifically at a time as dangerous as toying with the possibility of being detained and thrown in jail for murder. just a thought.

i'm almost 100% sure it was also in any language other than english, according to his customs. i've already elaborated on how pretentious he is. he wouldn't make it easy for anyone to figure him out that quickly, not even camilla. the i love you was just a premise, nearly nothing compared to the whisper. and if it's not english, then it must be one of the languages that he does know. assuming that it's either latin or ancient greek, he would go out of his merry way to make it as complex and hardly translatable as he can. he would apply the most archaic of archaic versions of those languages, even with one simple phrase. as i said, he would've planned it out beforehand deliberately. it makes perfect sense.

what it would be, however, is a whole other conversation of its own. maybe that very "i love you" or previously mentioned "live forever", just in a different language. that is the simplest answer i can offer. i like to dig deeper when it comes to mysteries such as this one, though, so i've been gathering my thoughts all day today in order to predominantly satisfy myself with an obnoxiously pretentious answer. how about: "to the stars" (kitsch but fitting, obviously convoluted, and in a different language) or a translated version of "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" — just to deride religion and tradition one last time. or, perhaps, "permanence". something that perpetuates his convicted disbelief in vanitas. "never gone"; "the conclusion". and i know, all of these sound dumb as hell in english, but do remember — they would be uttered in a different language, and in a complex way, too. to be mulled over; wondered about for a long time, even as a scholar.

someone needs to hook me up with ms tartt's phone number so we can settle this once and for all, lol. but then again, i don't want to know. i don't want a simple answer to such a mystifying, ponderous question. i'm fine with eternally musing over it — it certainly keeps me entertained.

[astro-naut9]

learning all the letters for your code! so far I have

a b c d e f g h i k l m n o p r s t u v w and y!

YIPEEE!!! the rest of the letter will come soon enough XD

[tox-talks]

C1 Nadire

Meme: [X] Character List: [X] Accepting: No Your Character: Yes

[echoingastrumadnothers]

ALMA: I see. I am very much in panic but I try and keep calm, but I am also very frustrated right now. Because they just don't listen. ALMA: Euphoric Dominance was right to call him out on borderline narcissism when things went awry the first time.. ALMA: Now I fear my whole local groups safety if we don't get a solution. ALMA: Is it the same for your situation to? That someone just won't listen to anything you or anyone else has got to say?

EA: Of course. Very much so.

EA: It makes it all the much harder to deal with things. Especially when you are receiving threats, pleas, long-winded vents... it is an exorbitant amount of pressure. Not that everyone else isn't going through their own hardships already.

EA: Nobody listens to eachother anymore... the public broadcasts largely go unmoderated due to the stress and they all just argue incessantly.

[generalsmemories]

Jing Yuan the... Lion

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ based on the ask: how would the characters react when jing yuan somehow magically transforms into a lion (like mimi) for a day? x reader is ok!! - requested by @/ephemeralyae

✧ contents: humor, established relationship, fluff, mentions of other characters

✧ a/n: i've noticed a certain pattern with my writing sideblogs, and that is the fact that i'll always get this sort of request HAHA. And in line with similar patterns, this will be the first post written in a headcanon format! i went the x reader route with just a hint on how characters would react (not that big of a reaction, moreso what they have to do in this situation) so i hope it was okay!

not beta-read again lmfao.

✧ He is as confused as everyone else with this situation. One moment he's sitting idly by his office, writing on his desk and the next moment he's left staring dumbfoundedly at a gigantic paw quite similar to the paws he squishes quite frequently back at home.

✧ Is the quick rundown you're given when you arrive at the Seat of Divine Foresight along with Fu Xuan and Yukong - having been frequently spammed with incoherent messages from Qingzu in the span of a few minutes.

✧ And although this very much is a serious situation - nevermind the mystery that the Divine Foresight is always absent from his usual seat, if he actually stays in this lion form for more than a day everything onboard the luofu will be behind schedule and he will for real be absent from the Seat of Divine Foresight because he's going to be taken in by the alchemy comission to figure out how to turn him back.

✧ And yet, as everyone is scrambling around trying to figure out a solution to turn him back and a reason to why he specifically was turned only - you're just left staring straight back at the lion with soft white hair and golden eyes who seem all to relaxed when staring back at you.

✧ Heck the tail is even comfortably swaying back and forth - even though he's well aware of the chaos he's caused.

✧ "... You know everyone in this room is in a disarray because of you, right?" a small roar that oddly sounded like his usual laugh, "... Yukong have to be able to discreetly send a message to the other flagships without even alerting anyone else in the Palace of Astrum, you are aware of that, correct?" you swear you saw the lion nodding his head.

✧ "... Master diviner Fu Xuan is going to have a lot more on her plate with this added problem, you agree to that right?" you ask once more, the lion only gave you a closed eyed smile.

✧ "Yanqing will be disappointed when you're not going to spar with him today, you've already avoided it for the past 2 weeks and you promised him today," the lion merely turns his head around, promptly ignoring you with a side glance of mischief.

✧ How can he be a scoundrel even when turned into a lion.

✧ "... Mimi would probably attack you the moment she spots you," you settle on saying. And somehow that information alone was enough for the once relaxed state of the lion to be in distress. Jing Yuan's once laid down form springing back into all fours - the sudden action making Qingzu who were still sorting out documents yelp.

✧ "... You know you could've tried saying you would leave him to see if he would react," Fu Xuan comments as the lion before the two of you makes his way over, "I think he would die on the spot if I said that, now how do we get him to-" you're unable to finish your answer back to the master diviner when you're suddenly pounced on by Jing Yuan.

✧ And as anyone would've expected, the much heavier weight makes you topple down to the floor with a loud bang.

✧ "... Did he already gain some feline traits?"

✧ You're unable to answer the question, desperately slamming your fist down on the lions mane before you're able to wriggle your head away from the amount of fur in your face, "Jing Yuan-" you wheeze, "I'm barely able to carry you while you're human, what made you think I can carry you when you weigh close to 200 kilograms?!"

✧ The lion seemed to not care, merely nuzzling his nose against your hair while making no move to actually get off of you.

✧ "... You know what, let's just call the healers down here and leave him here for the day. I have other business to attend to and Yanqing is already blowing up my phone asking where this idiot is," you say, tapping the lion on top of you on the nose before letting your hands tousle the mane, blinking in surprise at how oddly soft it was.

✧ "... On second thought I'll stay here until the healers come," you rephrase, continuing to run your hands through the mane, Jing Yuan seeming to purr in content at the excessive rubbing.

✧ So this is why Mimi is so content whenever you would excessively rub her everywhere.

og request here!

[fir-fireweed]

Hi!!!!! I just discovered Cantata and I am in LOVE!!!!! Unda reminds me a lot of my own mom and I just!!! I really like her and the opening chapter and the MUSIC playing was just!!! super cool!! I'm not sure if you've answered this before, so sorry if you have! What are all the meanings of the birth names you can choose from? I recognized some of them but not all. Do you have plans to add more to the presets in the future :0? Hope you have a great day!! Your game is super cool, hope you are taking care!!! -♆

Hi anon! Thank you! No one’s asked about the names yet and I��m happy to share. They are all Latin names for elements or aspects of the earth:

Eurus: wind (specifically eastern wind)

Ventus: wind

Terra: earth

Ignis: fire

Lumen: light

Nox: night

Lapis: stone

Divum: air

Arbor: tree

Sidus: heavens/sky or star

Petra: stone

Vinea: vine

Astrum: star/constellation

And bonus:

Tellus: earth

Fulmen: lightning

Unda: wave

I can certainly add more! It looks like I went heavy on earth and sky, so I may add some more fire and water names.

Thank you for reading my story, I’m so glad you enjoyed it! And I hope you have a good day, as well!

[crguang]

can I request nsfw prompt #78 for yukong? 🤑🤑

i miss my wife so bad. why is this 2.5k words

cw: some smut at the end, oral sex w/ sub!yukong for the soul

It’s almost ten in the evening when you check your phone to send Yukong a message. You had been too preoccupied this afternoon to let her know that you would finish working later than usual, so you’re a little surprised to not find a text from her checking up on you once she realized you wouldn’t show up for dinner. You type out a message telling her that you’re back in Starskiff Haven and on your way home. You barely put the phone back in your front pocket when it buzzes with a reply. You walk through illuminated streets as you read it and frown.

Okay. I’m finishing up some things at the Palace of Astrum, be there soon.

It’s quite late, Yukong should have gone home hours ago, if she’s still working it means she likely got lost in the mountain of documents and reports on her desk and won’t want to step away from it until the pile has significantly been reduced. You sigh quietly, pocketing the device and changing the direction of your footsteps towards the Palace of Astrum. You wonder if she’s eaten dinner at all, you know how focused and negligent of her needs she can get; she’s also been feeling a little irritated recently due to hormonal changes and doing paperwork at night is easier without the usual clatter of employees and computers. It’s an old habit you’ve been trying to break by going home together whenever your schedules allow and having your last meal of the day in each other’s company (Yukong’s cooking is to die for.) It forces her to leave the office around six at the latest and that way, you get to have her for yourself all evening. You stop by her favorite takeout place on the way to her workplace and order some soup dumplings to go. Warm food in hand, you quickly make your way to the Palace of Astrum, knowing Yukong would still be there despite her earlier message.

The large door creaks open when you push it with one hand. You walk inside the spacious headquarters of the Sky-Faring Commission and instantly spot Yukong’s bent figure at the far end of the room, desk alight as she scribbles things on a document. She’s so busy with whatever she’s doing that she doesn't hear you come closer like she would normally. Her ears are flattened forward and her shoulders look tense, a clear sign of her discontentment.

“Yukong?”

Her head raises abruptly at the sound of your voice so near and the woman blinks as her gaze settles on you walking up the couple of stairs needed to reach her work station. You see a flicker of guilt blending in the violet of her eyes at the realization that time has passed her by once again and you smile to alleviate her worries.

“You’re here,” Yukong states softly then glances at the takeout bag in your hand. “What’s this?”

“Dumplings. Did you eat?”

“Ah…”

She doesn’t say no, but indirectly answers your question anyway. You step closer to her to peep over her shoulder at the dozen of papers laying before her, some of which are annotated with her neat handwriting while others are sprawled on the surface as if she was looking for something in particular. Yukong follows your gaze to her work and sighs.

“I lost track of time, I’m sorry,” she apologizes in a low voice, stacking documents on top of each other before organizing the piles into different folders. “I was so restless today, I could only focus when most of the staff had gone home. I didn’t realize it until I saw your message.”

“It’s alright,” you assure her lightly, “are you okay?”

Yukong looks up at you with a small smile, your concern appreciated. “Yes. Just… not quite myself at the moment.”

“You probably need a break. Let’s go home so you can eat, and I could give you a massage if you want.”

She hums. Your words sound nice but they’re not enough to keep her attention off the work waiting for her on her desk. She glances back at it, lingering on a certain pile to her right, and the tip of her ears twitch the way it does when she’s about to say something you won’t like.

“I still need to finish those though…”

You lay the bag of dumplings on the ground, freeing your hands to cross your arms over your chest. Yukong pointedly avoids the purse of your lips.

“They’ll still be here tomorrow.”

“Yes, that’s the problem. If I finish tonight, I can focus my attention on other matters tomorrow.”

“You’ve been working for hours. When was the last time you took a break? Two in the afternoon?”

Yukong’s smile turns apologetic. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

You don’t throw in the towel, instead shifting close to where she sits and lifting a leg to straddle her lap. Yukong lets out a soft sound of surprise, instinctively raising her hands so you can get comfortable on her plump thighs. You feel the desk’s edge against your lower back. Her eyes meet yours and you circle her neck with your arms, fiddling with a few strands of silky hair and curling them gently around your fingers. Her body is warm, like always, and you can’t help a smile at the unimpressed look she gives you even as one of her hands rests against your waist. If the place wasn’t totally empty, she would have pushed you off.

“What are you doing?”

“Now you have to focus on me.” From up close, the smooth bow of her lips seems to draw you in. Your gaze flitters to its pink curve before taking in her narrowing eyes.

“I really need to finish this, kit.”

“But do you?”

Yukong simply sighs once more. You know she’s close to breaking, to succumb to your insistent wishes, she just needs a little push. Your fingers leave her long hair to ghost over her warm cheek with your nails, drawing senseless patterns on her skin. There’s a faint flush across her face, and you briefly wonder if she’s feeling hotter than usual. You can feel the tension in her shoulders evaporate slightly at the loving gesture, but she also shifts under you a few times, seemingly restless. To convince her further, you lift a hand to the back of her left ear and brush the soft fur at your disposal in a languid motion. Her lashes flutter involuntarily.

“Come on…” you support your saccharine tone with a small pout, “go home with me?”

“It would be irresponsible—”

You don’t let her articulate her argument. You lean forward to press a chaste kiss on her lips and despite its short duration, her words melt on her tongue. The taste of her is familiar and brings comfort you only find in her. You can’t resist capturing her mouth with your own a second time and Yukong lets you, eyes falling shut. She returns your sweet kisses as you absentmindedly stroke the back of her ear, and a little quiver runs through it at your gentle touch. Again, her thighs shift under your weight, brushing together almost unconsciously. Her breath blends with yours with every quiet exhale through her nose. You’re first to withdraw from her puckered lips, gaze dulled by the tenderness of the moment. The pink hue of her cheeks spreads to the base of her neck and her chest rises a beat quicker. Her hands now hold your body to hers.

You recognize the veil over her irises as she looks at you, the sight of her dilating pupils is the last piece of the puzzle concerning her mood lately. The prominent flush of her skin, her restlessness— you spare a glance behind her and notice the sway of her fluffy tail. Her affliction becomes obvious.

“Yukong…” you start slowly, and she already looks embarrassed at her reaction to a few kisses, avoiding your growing smile for a moment. You bring her back to face you with kind fingers under her jaw. “Don’t be like that, Helm Master. Are you getting a little needy?”

Yukong makes a face that illustrates her self-consciousness. She doesn’t respond, but you don’t need a reply.

“Tell you what,” you continue, “we can go home and I’ll gladly take care of you, or… I could always get you off right here, right now.”

The mortification on her features makes you laugh and she swats your hand away from her chin, shaking her head like she aims to erase the thoughts that popped in her mind at your suggestion.

“Don’t be lewd.” She pauses for a couple of seconds after reprimanding you. “We can go home.”

You wear a smug smile as you stand from her lap and watch her put away her documents. She locks them in a drawer, quickly tidies up her desk and ignores your triumphant face all the while. She’s still flustered, you see it in the movements of her tail and the blush that colors her collarbones. You decide not to tease her further for now and readily lace your fingers with hers after she offers you a hand, picking up the food off the ground and leaving the Palace of Astrum behind for the night. Her warmth travels to your palm and up to your chest like a soothing balm and you drink in her proximity on your way back, occasionally pulling her to your side when she strays too far for your liking.

Yukong’s desire is written along her body, it’s in the flick of her ear and the grip of her hand around yours as you make your way home, and in the eagerness with which she pulls you forward to kiss you once you’re behind closed doors. Your breath is stolen by her fervent touches, her tongue wets your lips the moment they part, and it takes you a couple of minutes to regain your bearings. She is flushed against you, trapping you between her burning skin and the front door. She takes what she wants because she can’t help it and is too embarrassed to ask for it. Your hands squeeze her waist and a muffled noise sounds from somewhere in her throat. In one swift motion, you switch places with her, pressing her back to the door and her chest to yours. Your mouth doesn’t let her go, not that she minds. Your blissful sighs become one with each exhale and your hands dip into the cuts of her dress over her hips to feel more of her skin. You think you feel her shiver. Yukong’s kisses are eager with the hint of a desperation that you find deeply endearing. She verbalizes her needs through soft, muffled moans against your lips, and your mind fogs up with arousal at the low tone of her voice. Your knee wriggles between her thighs just to hear the sharp intake of breath from her mouth.

Her body is pliable under your hands, it bends and moves at your will as you lead Yukong to the bedroom, the takeout you bought forgotten somewhere near the entrance of the house. You’re suddenly hungry for something else. Yukong can’t control the sway of her tail or the hairs that rise across her body, you find it so arousing to witness her reaction to your devoted touch; you undress her carefully even in the face of her impatience, letting the fabric of her dress crumple to the floor, and you take a measured step backwards to admire the curves of her stomach and hips. She tugs you to the bed with a hand. When she gets like this, your weight on her grounds her to the present, to the open-mouthed kisses you plant over her jaw and the sensation of your fingers digging into her thigh. Wetness pools in her underwear just from having you so close.

“Hah… Mmnh…”

Yukong makes the sweetest noises when you finally take pity on her and trail your tongue up her wet slit, collecting her arousal like it’s a treat to be enjoyed. The dark hairs on her cunt are slick with her need, and like an obedient pup she keeps her thighs spread for you, allowing you to lose yourself in the heat between her legs. Her tangy taste overpowers your senses. Part of you hears the quiet moans that tumble from Yukong’s lips and feels her fingers in your hair, holding you firmly against her pussy, but your nose is buried in her and you can’t focus on anything else. Her clit throbs for your attention so you comply with her silent request and wrap your lips around the aching bud, sucking it lightly into your mouth. Your arms are around her thighs to keep her close, and you eat her out as if she was a glass of cool water on a hot summer day.

“K-Kit—“

The loving nickname, in this context, makes you moan into her cunt. Your tongue laves her puffy lips steadily, sometimes teasing her dripping entrance for more of her taste etched onto the walls of your mouth. You feel a throbbing sensation between your legs but ignore it for now, fully dedicated to having Yukong come on your tongue. Her breasts rise and fall with the beating of her lungs, perky nipples hard as gemstones and just as pretty. Her hips meet the pace of your mouth, desperate for her impending release. The tremble of her thighs indicate how close she is to coming for you and you flick her sensitive clit with your tongue a few times to send her over the edge.

Her eyes squeeze shut with the intensity of her release and a pitiful sound of pleasure sticks to the back of her throat, her cunt throbbing beneath your devout mouth. You lap up the cum smeared over her pussy with a satisfied hum. Yukong’s breaths are heavy, she lays against the pillows as she comes down from her high, and you clean her up as one would savor an iced dessert. Softly sucking on her clit earns you a noise close to a whimper. She’s too far gone to feel embarrassed about the sounds she’s making, the thought makes you smile.

You raise your head to look at her properly. You run your hands up her hips. She’s so beautiful, wrecked by your tongue. Yukong blinks slowly, gazing down at you through lidded eyes, and you recognize that lustful stare. You’ll be ruining her multiple times before the night ends; she won’t be entirely satisfied until her limbs ache and she’s emptied herself for you.

[hauntedmoontimetravel]

So, I heard you like writing.

💧Rain - What's the most emotional scene you've ever written?

❄️ Snow - Who is your coldest / most stoic character and how do they express themselves (if at all)?

🌨 Sleet - What's the most you've ever written in one sitting?

☀️ Sun - What's your favorite part of your WIP?

🌫 Fog - What was the hardest part of your WIP to write?

🌬 Wind - What was the easiest part of your WIP to write?

🌪 Tornado - Who is your most impulsive character and why?

🔥 Wildfire - Who is your most emotional character and why?

🌌 Clear Skies - How long have you been writing your current WIP?

☁️ Cloudy - What inspired you to start writing your WIP? (or in general)

⚡️Lightning - Have you ever spontaneously added something to your story that you wouldn't have added normally? If so, what made you do it?

🪹 Drought - What do you do to help with Writer's Block?

💦 Flood - How many WIPs do you have?

🏝 Hurricane - Do you often stick to one WIP and finish it, then move on, or do you bounce between WIPs?

🪨 Landslide - Which WIP has the most worldbuilding?

⛰ Earthquake - Which WIP has the least worldbuilding?

🌊 Tsunami - When and where do you like to write?

🌋 Volcanic Eruption - What's your biggest flaw as a writer?

🌈 Rainbow - What do you think makes your story unique / stand out?

🌙 Eclipse - What's the most common / reoccurring theme of your WIP(s)?

💧Rain: Probably either the Killing Desdemona scene or Cannibalism scene in The Horrific Comb or the goodbye scene in this one for a prompt , which is basically the fluffier future. I'm leaning towards it being in The Horrific Comb though.

❄️ Snow: I don't really remember, many of my characters tend to be very emotional. Maybe Desdemona, but I think she's pretty expressive.

🌨 Sleet: 3.5k to 4k as of now approx.

☀️ Sun: Still writing, didn't plan ahead much.

🌫 Fog: Taking down the whole thing on paper

🌬 Wind: I'm taking this for a finished work and I think it's the cannibalism scene in The Horrific Comb(not much in detail though).

🌪 Tornado: I like to think of it as Astrum since I kinda really based ver off of me(The Horrific Comb and the other prompt one). Could be Indus though (they're from the other prompt one .

🔥 Wildfire: I think them all, but answer can be taken as the answer from tornado).

🌌 Clear Skies : Procrastinating for weeks.

☁️ Cloudy: Prompts, usually.

⚡️Lightning: I guess the cannibalism scene from The Horrific Comb can be counted as so.I got the idea after listening to "aishiteitanoni" by MARETU, eng subs and scrolling through the comments. Originally, it wasn't going to be there though.

🪹 Drought: Procrastinate.

💦 Flood: Two or three ig.

🏝 Hurricane: Usually forcing myself to stick.

🪨 Landslide: I think the second sci-fi one I've been procrastinating for months.

Earthquake: The prompt one, currently. Could change.

🌊 Tsunami : When I'm feeling emotional, at home and depends, I can write either on phone or paper.

🌋 Volcanic Eruption: Probably my inconsistency and procrastination.

🌈 Rainbow: Idk

🌙 Eclipse: Currently the recurring themes are death of some kind, violence and kind of horror.

Thanks for the interview~

[winged-thinged]

What is your opinion on horoscopes?

Well, they're made up. It's fun to imagine that the position of the stars could somehow influence life on Earth, but I have yet to find a compelling reason to believe in it, other than that it would be cool if it were true. Countless studies have shown that horoscopes do no better than chance at actually coming up with accurate predictions. If they appear to be accurate from time to time, it seems like it's probably a mix of overly general or vague predictions, people consciously or subconsciously looking for patterns and connections, and the tendency to focus on the hits (or to stretch things to fit) while disregarding the misses. And it seems kind of silly and self-centered, when you think about it, to imagine that all these stars, spread out over lightyears and lightyears and lightyears of three-dimensional spacetime, all assembled themselves just so that they could line up at precisely the right angle when viewed from one tiny sliver of the cosmos so as to reflect the lives of the inhabitants of one little blue-green marble.

If I were writing a fantasy novel, I could probably come up with a mechanism to make that happen—I could probably come up with a bunch of different mechanisms, in fact—but I would just be making stuff up. It's more interesting to me to try and find out how the stars actually got to be where they are, because the real answer is mind-boggling HUGE and ancient and awe-inspiring and sublime—and it's REAL! All of those stars, that dust and gravity—it all really exists out there and we can touch just a sliver of it, through tools that seem as arcane to me as anything astrology has in its pockets. If you want a taste, I really like the youtube channel Astrum. And watching NOVA specials on PBS.

Like with many made up things, I think it's probably fine in most cases to play around with horoscopes for fun, but a bad idea to make any major life decisions based off of them. That said, I try to avoid telling people my star sign, because I do not care for it when people make unfounded assumptions about me.

My life has been shaped by the choices I've made, and by my circumstances, and by the choices of the people around me. And I get to decide what to do with it. I am myself, not a puppet or a plaything or the reflection of any star.

[man-down-in-hatchet-town]

THE CASE OF THE GREATER GATSBY EPISODES 20-21

Okay, so tomorrow is the release of the LAST EVER EPISODE OF GREATER GATSBY (cry with me, folks!), and while I’ve been keeping up with my listening I have fallen a bit behind with these analysis posts, largely because these last few episodes have been so jammed packed with answers that up until last week there wasn’t much theorizing to do. So while this post is about episodes 20-22, I’m writing it after having already listened to episode 23 multiple times. I’ll do my best not to spoil anything from episode 23 in the thoughts below, but there will probably be a lot less pondering and guesswork than usual.

Anyways, spoilers for episodes 20, 21, and 22 under the cut!

Okay, first things first—are Shipwrecked really going to get away with not letting us in on Ford’s secret? I couldn’t quite tell what Fig was saying when Ford cut her off, so I pulled up the transcript and it looks like she says “I can’t believe you managed to them all in—“ Which, for the life of me, sounds like absolute nonsense. I’ve spent hours trying to come up with what she could be about to say, and I’ve drawn a blank. Any ideas?

Speaking of Ford, our boy definitely needs therapy. While I understand the place his anger is coming from, probably a lot better than Ford himself does, he does need to remember that technically Fig was hired to shadow Willy as a bodyguard and was technically there on set in her capacity as a P..I. as well. I predicted from the start that Fig’s side job would clash quite badly with Ford’s trauma, and frankly I’m surprised it’s taken this long to get there. But here we are and I am sad. :(

But hopes springs anew! Mel has officially shuttered The Grapes of Wrath! This seems like another tick in my “Mel is intentionally sabotaging the movie” column. If anything, the only real evidence contradicting that theory is that it took so long for her to shut it down in the first place. Perhaps Beanslot is particularly keen on Steinbeck? Regardless, Mel is still my personal favorite suspect for writing the letters, or at least for being the person behind them (I don’t quite believe she composed any of the messages herself). I know Fig and Ford believe the threatening author and the murderer are one and the same, but we have no real evidence for that, beyond the word of the letter writer. Plenty of people could have figured out he was likely murdered, and decided to use that increase the power of their anonymous threats. Mel, for instance, could have learned from Mo Beats. And now that I know who the murderer seems to be (more on that in my next post), I’m not sure what their motive for writing the threatening letters would even be.

Moving on from all these questions, let’s talk a bit about answers. TD stole The Greater Gatsby during the night of Mel’s party to bribe his way into Bixby’s Brigade. He gave the script to Willy on the suggestion of Roger, who was keen on his movie-star wife getting arrested and joining him in prison. Guys, I love Roger. I know he’s kinda’ terrible but I just can’t help it; I guess it’s that classic Gabe Greenspan magic. And he and Willy are, in a very odd and slightly worrying way, kinda’ perfect for each other. The swelling music cue that plays every time Willy decides his dubious criminal action is actually The Most Romantic Thing ever(TM) makes me laugh. Every. Single. Time. It helps that Roger is such a silly goose that it’s impossible to imagine any of his harebrained schemes actually resulting in harm coming to his lovely wife. That’s just not the narrative vibe, I guess. Also, I was right about Dash keeping an eye on Wilhelmina on Roger’s orders! Yay me!

The other bout of answers comes from the Punchwhistle triplets and their grand reunion in Fig and Ford’s office. As expected, “George Astrum” is both Eugene Punchwhistle and the Hinge Highwayman. Except for my brief foray into “Barnaby is Eugene!” madness (look, not all of my crazy theories can be right), George has been my top candidate for Eugene since his introduction in Scott’s tapes. Meanwhile, it turns out that Lex had not been kidnapped or swept up in some epic trail of clues, but had simply gone to ground as part of the search for her missing brother. While I missed the delightful Esther Fallick, the moment where they asked Lex if she was aware she’d been recast was maybe my favorite line of the episode. Love a good bit of meta humor. Lex also gives more evidence that the writer of the threatening letters has plenty of access to the set. While this does point a finger towards the supposed killer unmasked in the next episode, it could also point to any number of other characters. I’ll probably come out of this looking very silly, but, as I said, I’m still not convinced that our killer and adaption-hater are in fact one and the same…

A Couple of Other Thoughts: -If Ford hadn’t been acting so ridiculous about Fig’s onset work, she probably would have taken him more seriously when he said not to hand Mel the script. As it is, I supposed we should just be thankful that Mel did, in fact, destroy it. -Mel and Ford, for all that he hates her, seem to have the same opinion on the bookclub. I don’t think that’s particularly important, other than as an indicator that Ford’s perspective is a bit out of whack, but it’s funny regardless. -God, to be a fly on the wall next time Mel sees TD. I want a three hour Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf-esque character study about THAT.

[brimstarz]

Marco!

It's Astrum .

[astrum-aetherium]

heyyy it's star ik I have been gone 4 a WHILE but I am back!!!

hi my dear!!! so good to have you back! feel hugged <3

[ammirabilis]

Chapter 4

Pairing: Olivia x Fem!Hunter/Reader

Synopsis: In the aftermath of a hunt gone horribly wrong, you're forced to confront the ghosts of your past and a feeling you’ve been too afraid to name.

Genre: Action, romance, angst, hurt/comfort

CW: There is SMUT in this chapter. Minors DNI.

Divider by: @strangergraphics

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 | Also on AO3

The day comes all too soon when Olivia is given the all-clear by Medy and tossed back into the fray. Her re-entry to the field is celebrated by the entire Astrum unit and all the expedition teams alike. No one even questions if she’s ready for it. You don’t either, but it doesn’t stop your chest from tightening when she rides off with a cheerful wave. 

It was just after nightfall when she returned to base, footsteps echoing faintly as she stepped into the outpost. You were already waiting in her tent, pacing a little whilst pretending you needed to hand in a report. The moment she came through the tent’s flap, you turned quickly, holding your breath. Her familiar silhouette fills up the entryway. She didn’t appear to be limping or wincing, and you feel yourself exhale as the weight lifts from your shoulders. 

“You’re back,” you said, and immediately felt embarrassed by how obvious it was that you’d been waiting here all evening. 

Olivia simply gave a smile, and tossed her vambraces in a box to the side of the entrance. “Of course I’d be.”

You were already moving toward her, gaze sweeping over her form in quiet urgency. Her armor was a little dirty but otherwise intact. She didn’t wince when she moved and her shoulders were relaxed. But you still had to be sure. 

When you reached for the clasps of her chestplate without asking, she didn’t stop you. Instead, she stood still and let you work. One by one, you loosened the buckles carefully as if any abrupt movement might hurt her somehow. You watched her face for any flicker of pain, but she only watched you in return, her expression patient and indulgent. 

“You’re staring,” she murmurs, the corner of her mouth curving upward softly. 

“I’m checking for injuries,” you replied, though your voice came out quieter than you intended. 

She tilted her head playfully. “Not anything else?”

You didn’t answer, just unfastened the last buckle and eased the armor away from her shoulders, revealing the soft fabric of her undershirt. No scratches, just a few light bruises. You let out another breath of relief. 

“I’m not going to disappear, you know.” She takes your hands, pulling you closer to her. 

“I know.” Your voice cracked in a way you hated. “That doesn’t mean I’m not scared about it.” You let your fingers trail up the back of her hands, your thumb passing over her wrist, searching for the steady rhythm of her pulse as if you still needed to convince yourself she was really there. 

You hesitated, taking in a deep breath as you looked up into her eyes. In that small space, you finally found a sliver of courage to speak the words that had been heavy on your chest for so long.

“I love you,” you confessed, voice soft but resolute. You’ve never said those three words before, afraid of what they meant and how real everything would become. But it was already real. From the moment you saw her brushing her drenched hair back during the monsoon, your heart had already been hers. 

The words came tumbling out of you like a dam breaking open. “I love you so much, the thought of being without you terrified me. I kept thinking about what would happen if you hadn’t thrown yourself in front of that blast—”

Olivia interrupts you with a shush and you snap your jaw shut, suddenly afraid you’d said something too raw, too intimate. You looked down, heart thudding in your chest. When she didn’t pull away, you looked up at her again. Her expression was unguarded and you saw the same fear you’d been carrying mirrored in her eyes. 

“I love you too,” she whispered, as if the truth had always been there, just waiting to be named. A small breath left her then and she continued. “That’s why I moved, you know. When I saw the charge building, I knew that your armor wouldn’t hold. I was afraid that I would lose you.”

Her words hit something deep inside you, an ache that was both painful yet profoundly beautiful. It all made sense now; the countless SOS flares she had answered for you, the times she stood closer than she needed to, the way her eyes always found you first in the crowd. She would have died for you, and you knew without a doubt that you’d do the same for her. 

It had always been this all along. 

Everything was laid bare now. Not just love, but the terrifying reality of it— that you’d both chosen each other anyway, in spite of the fears and risks that came with.

“I’m still scared,” you admitted.

“I know.” She bent her head, resting her forehead gently against yours. “But I’m here. I won’t go anywhere.”

Then she leaned in and her lips met yours in a kiss that was deliberate and passionate. It spoke in all the words neither of you had dared to say until now. Her mouth was soft, but certain. Every motion held a longing so deep you both burned under it. Olivia had always held you gently, like something cherished. But now, her hands gripped you with intention. Her touch said everything: I’m here. I’m real. This is real. 

The kiss deepened slowly as her fingers threaded into your hair, and yours curled around her waist, drawing her in. When you parted for a breathless second, the sweet sound of your name fell from her lips and you reveled in it. 

“I want you,” you whispered, the truth of it catching on your tongue. “I need you.”

That was all it took.

She kissed you again, slower this time, with a tenderness that stole the breath from your lungs. You melted into her, yielding to the press of her thumb along your jaw and the warm weight of her palm steady at your back. Her presence, solid and real, lit embers under your skin. You had missed this. Missed her — the way her breath grew shallow beneath your touch, how she pulled you in as if this wasn’t close enough.

Her fingers slip beneath your shirt now, lifting it off you with a smooth motion. The roughness of her callused hands met the curve of your spine, sending shivers across your skin. You took your time with each other, undressing in the hush of the tent, wrapped in heat and shadows. There was no danger or looming edge of duty here. Just the slow, searching press of her mouth against yours and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat under your palm.

Then, she eased you down onto the bedroll, settling herself between your thighs. Olivia was radiant above you, bathed in the golden tones of lamplight. Her eyes deep and vivid, held your heated gaze with equal passion. Your hands roamed the expanse of her, tracing muscle and scar alike, desperate to memorize every inch.

“Don’t let go,” you sighed, voice trembling with want. 

“I won’t,” she promised, brushing her lips against the hollow of your throat. “I’m right here.” 

She placed another kiss to your neck before suckling gently, making her way down to your collarbone and chest. Soft red marks bloom against your skin where her lips had been— proof she had been there, proof that you were hers.

When she pressed herself fully against you, the heat surged between your bodies. Your hips met in a slow, sensual grind, her thigh pressed between yours as your hands clutched at her back. You arched into her, gasping when her mouth found your breast. Her tongue circling your nipple before taking it gently between her teeth. She soothed the sting with another languid swirl of her tongue, then moved to the other, lavishing you with a devotion that unraveled you entirely.

You felt like floating, and every nerve in your body pulsed with need. Yet, Olivia’s touch kept you grounded. Each kiss, each stroke, each whispered word of reassurance tethered you to her. She slipped a hand between your thighs, using her knees to spread your legs apart. Her fingers parted your wet folds, coaxing a strangled gasp from the back of your throat. She circled your clit in smooth, steady movements, fingers slick with how ready you were. You gripped her shoulders, feeling the muscles flex against your palms as she handled you.  

And when she finally slid her fingers inside, you moaned, low and broken. She filled you gently, moving in time with your body and relishing in the way her name fell from your lips like a mantra. Then, she curls her fingers just right, and your hips jerked with a pleasure sharp and sudden.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered, her mouth returning to yours. 

You tilted your head, chasing her kiss as if to make up for the time you’d lost. Your body arched into hers as she moved, each thrust of her fingers pulling you closer to the edge. You clench around her, arousal dripping down her fingers with how needy you were. She acquiesced when you begged her to go faster, her fingers now so deep inside you that she could cup your sex with her palm, thumb ghosting over your puffy clit. 

Your climax hit like a breaking wave, shattering you from all your thoughts except for her. Your whole body curled around her as you came. Olivia held you through it, and when the trembling passed, she didn’t pull away. She stayed, her hand squeezing the supple flesh of your thigh as your breath synced back into hers.

Olivia shifts slightly, hands moving to lift your hips up and position you as she liked. She was far from done with you, always preferring to completely ravish you before taking her own pleasure. But tonight felt different. Your desire for her ran hot through your veins, and you wanted nothing more than to claim her as yours. You tugged gently at her arm, stopping her in her tracks. 

“I want to mark you too.” You stated, almost shyly. Surprisingly, she moves without hesitation, letting you roll her gently to her back. It made your breath catch, the way she looked at you with such trust. You smiled, taking in the sight of her under you for once— still beautiful, still yours. 

You kissed your way down the freckled slope of her shoulder, letting your lips linger, then your teeth. A wanton sigh slipped past her lips when you sucked lightly at the spot just above her heart, leaving your own mark behind. A love letter written in her skin: You were here too, and you’d never leave. 

She gasped softly beneath you, her fingers curling into the blanket as your lips moved lower. Her skin was flushed, and when you glanced up, her gaze was already on you, steady with affection. You kissed a path down the center of her chest, pausing when your lips reached the jagged scar just below her ribs. It was the one she earned the day she shielded you from the Rey Dau’s blast. The memory still flared in your mind like a tender bruise, and something tightened in your throat.

Your fingers brushed along the edges of the scar as you leaned in and pressed a kiss to it, reverent and full of something deeper than gratitude. You let your lips linger there, then placed another kiss just beside it, and another, until her breath hitched again and her hand came to cradle your jaw.

“You don’t have to—” she began, but her voice caught.

“But I do,” you whispered against her skin. “I want to. Let me take care of you this time.”

For a moment, Olivia doesn’t speak. Her thumb grazed along your cheekbone, and you tilted your face into her palm, kissing the center of it. Then, slowly, she nodded.

“Then take me,” she said, voice low and steady, her eyes never leaving yours. “I’m yours.”

Her answer made your heart soar, and your lips returned to her body with renewed purpose. Each kiss was an offering, each touch a devotion, a promise stitched into skin. When you finally reached the place where she needed you the most, you didn’t rush. You kissed her there first, gentle and slow before parting her with your tongue. She gasped, fingers tightening in your hair as you began to move. You licked her in long, deliberate strokes, savoring the taste of her and the way her body responded to every flick and curl of your tongue.

Olivia whispers you praises and you dig your fingers into her hips, hungry to give her more, as she deserved. You teased at her entrance, then pushed in, your nose brushing her clit with each thrust, coaxing more of those breathless sounds from her lips. You moved slowly, purposefully, letting your tongue write everything you still wanted to say: I need you. I love you. I would do this forever if you let me.

Her thighs tightened around your shoulders, trembling slightly as you mouthed at her. You curled your tongue against her warm heat, moaning in satisfaction when her hips rolled up to meet you. When she came, it was with a cry, slightly muffled by the back of her hand. You drank her like a gift, savoring every drop as if it were nectar from the gods. 

Even as she fell back against the pillows, body still quivering from the aftershocks, you didn’t stop. Your mouth pressed firmly against her, spit and slick wet against your chin. Her breaths came in heavy and short bursts, stomach taut with pleasure as you continued to take her higher. 

Only when her trembling ceased to something more languid and relaxed beneath you did you ease your touch. You turned your head, offering a kiss to her inner thigh, then another near the curve of her knee.Your worship trailed in a slow path back up her body— across the other thigh, over the curve of her hip, and the warm plane of her stomach. You followed the contours of her body like a tide drawn endlessly back to shore, back to the only place that felt like home.

And when she reached for you, caging you under her body once more, you were ready to surrender to her completely. 

The night melts away in the heat of your gentle lovemaking, time unraveling at the edges as you lose yourself in her. When morning comes, it feels too soon. Already, you mourn the moment’s passing and the inevitable loss of her warmth against your skin. Soon, you’ll have to leave the safety of her arms and head out to face the day. 

As her fingers card through your hair idly, you wished you could stay like this forever— safe and untouched by the uncertain future, just the steady thump of her heartbeat quieting the world outside. Moments like this were always so fleeting in the life of a hunter. How long before the hunt came calling again? What if next time you weren’t so lucky?

“Still thinking, little bird?” Olivia’s voice gently cuts through your thoughts. Her hand trailed from your hair to your chin, tilting your face up to look up at hers. Her tone was light, but beneath it was the same depth that always saw through you. 

In the dim light, her lashes cast delicate shadows along her high cheekbones. She’s always been captivating, but here, beneath all her armor and behind the mantle of Captain Olivia the Guild Ace, there was simply the woman you loved. The one who reserved the most tender parts of herself just for you, who kisses you like you’re the only thing she’s ever been sure of, and who mends all your broken parts without even trying. You felt your heart squeeze at the sight of her. 

“You said before that the dream we walk in is fragile…” you trailed off, voice thin and wet. 

Olivia wraps her arms around you tighter, and you fully sink into her touch. “Yes,” she murmured, “it is fragile. And only through constant betterment of ourselves can we delay its inevitable end.”

Her voice was softer now, more intimate than when she first shared those words with you beneath the plain’s sun-baked sky. Back then, they were words of advice from one hunter to another. Now, they felt like a promise meant only for you. Suddenly, you understand her words with a new clarity. It’s why you keep fighting: to stretch the dream even if just for a little longer, to protect the world you're building together— the one that lets you have this, here, with her. 

And when the next hunt comes, you know that you’re ready to follow her through the fire. Because when the smoke clears, there will still be the two of you, in between heartbeats.

[tox-talks]

astrum in mango

Meme: [X] Character List: [X] Accepting: Yes Your Character: Yes

Astrum belongs to @phantasyprince

[ilovewomen--8]

I realized I should probably ask if you have (At least) a name for you oc so I can move you from the "Outside the circus" pary of the list

ASTRUM

FINALLY THEY HAVE A NAME I CAN ANSWER THIS