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casualhedonists · 4 months

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✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter six)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder/violence mention (but no actual murder), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, roughhousing, overstimulation, mild bondage, insane amounts of teasing, some mild dubcon scenes/allusions to dubcon, some power play, lots of switching between dom/sub dynamics, hair pulling, oral sex, thigh riding, face sitting, degradation, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, eventual piv (pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

chapter: 6/6

SERIES MASTERLIST

words: .......13.5k

a/n: WHEW what a wait. thank you, as always, for your patience this past month or so! as i’ve mentioned i’ve been busy as hell, but it is with many internal screams that i can say! welcome to the final chapter of this series!! what a ride we've all had these last few months! buckle up for like. essay length extensive smut and also plot. in varying order. as always, feedback makes my world spin round at rocket speed, and just. thank you guys for all the love ever since i posted chapter one last november (november me with a brand new sideblog had no clue this would become a Thing i finished let alone a Thing people liked!! that's all on you lovely humans. ily)

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

Heaven was his head between your thighs.

His hands on you, everywhere. Hot mouth pressed to your skin, your neck, your thighs, your cunt. He was slow. Thorough. Pulling cries out of your mouth that got louder and louder until your back arched on the bed and you lay slumped and panting, twisted in his sheets. Taken apart and stitched right back together.

It hadn’t started like this. Not even close.

You woke to a soft light on your face, the curtains parted slightly. Your throat felt sore, and you were tired. Body heavy, slumped across a bed. His. It came back to you in fragments. The party. The photograph. His hand in your hair. His eyes after, apologetic and pleading. Falling asleep right here, next to him, but there was nobody beside you anymore. Your eyes adjusted to the room; you’d never seen it at this time of day, with sunbeams lighting up the walls. You could hear a soft tapping sound, like rain on the windowsill, but it was a bright and sunny spring day out.

Typing. That’s what it was.

Steady, satisfying clicks as the typewriter punched ink onto paper. You turned your head towards the desk across the room.

Coriolanus was sat there, focused, a breakfast tray pushed to one side. He didn’t notice you for a while, and you rolled over to take him in, a slight squint in his eye as he concentrated. You pulled your tired body up and leaned against the pillows, and he turned.

“Morning.” He said in surprise.

“Hi.”

This was strange. Like a warped sense of a morning after.

“Coffee?” He offered. “It’s still hot, I think.”

“Please.”

As he stood to pour from the French press, you took a look around you, eyes landing on the nightstand. A glass of water stood tall next to the silver chain he’d given you last night.

So innocent. If someone took a peek through a crack in the wall, they’d think you were a perfectly normal couple. Domestic bliss.

Not so much, you thought, as he walked over and handed you a cup.

He didn’t linger, but sat down at the foot of the bed, and that only made things stranger. He’d never been one to shy away from physical proximity, but here you both were, sipping just-hot coffee as he eyed you carefully. Like you were an animal in an enclosure, and he hadn’t quite figured out which approach to take with you yet.

“Are you working on something?” You nodded toward the cluttered desk.

“Just the usual. Work.”

“Oh? Didn’t know you worked in here.”

“I don’t, usually. Never have, in fact.” He sounded sheepish. This was entirely new. “But I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

Oh.

You said just that.

“Oh. Um, thank you.”

“I can go if you’d like. Leave you to rest.”

“No, that’s okay. Stay.”

His eyes softened a little, shoulders sinking down.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

You considered. You hadn’t really thought much about it.

“Tired, I think. This is helping. Thank you.” You sipped at the cup of coffee, careful not to spill it on his sheets. An oddly comfortable silence hung in the air.

“I called Cordelia. She’s coming over this afternoon, we can figure it all out. Print a story you’re happy with.”

“Wait, what? We don’t have an appointment for three more weeks.”

He glanced awkwardly at the floor, and cleared his throat.

“I thought you’d want to make it as quick as possible. It will be, and it won’t shine badly on you. I’ll get Lucille to pack your things, and if you don’t want to go back to your parents, I’d be happy to put you up somewhere in the city for as long as you’d like. It’s the least I could do after everything that I-”

“Coriolanus, stop.” You shook your head, bewildered.

“Can I ask you a serious question?”

He paused.

“Of course.”

“How the hell are you meant to know what I want if you’ve never asked me?”

He frowned, eyes darting from the floor, to you, to the floor again.

“I… Well, I assumed that-”

“Don’t assume.” You interrupted. “God, when will you stop assuming you know what’s best for me? It’d be nice to feel like I have a say in this. Don’t you see that if we do this, we’ll just end up right back where we started? I don’t want that, do you?”

“Doll, I think this would be for the best.”

“Why, am I getting too difficult for you now? You got someone new lined up ready to take my place? Someone less complicated? More complacent?” You snapped.

“Of course not, it’s not that.”

“Then why? Why do you want me gone? Because it’s pretty damn clear that you do from where I’m sat.”

He sighed, turning to face you, but looking at your lap. You gripped the cup with a vice, like you were trying to snap off the handle. You placed it on the nightstand.

“I’ve just been wondering if this has become about something… else, to you. and I wanted to say that if that’s the case, this can’t continue. Because… well, I’ve grown fond of you, and it isn’t fair to keep you hoping.”

Your confusion softened your sharp edges.

“Hoping for what?”

For whatever reason, he didn’t meet your eye as he spoke.

“Hoping that… I can give you something I don’t think I’m capable of. Or at least, not anymore. It’s not fair on you. I can’t give you what you need.”

“And what exactly is it that I need?”

He shifted, looking awkwardly to the floor. At first, your frown only deepened, then it hit you. A knowing smile crept onto your face.

“Oh my god… you think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

His frown only widened your grin. you were pretty sure you must’ve looked insane. Despite yourself, you let out a laugh, and his frown only deepened.

“When you… you’ve been upset lately. The other week at the luncheon, and then last night, I thought it was-”

“That I was, what, in love with you?”

A cocky, shit eating grin now took over your face.

He started a sentence, but stopped himself. You could see it on his face; he was completely thrown.

“So you’re not.” He checked.

“Oh, don’t look so disappointed, Snow. ‘Course not. That’s never what this was about, I mean, we have rules for a reason. Sure, we’ve been breaking them like it’s our day job, but not the golden one. Never the most important.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked a little sheepish.

“Don’t worry, gorgeous,” you repeated, “I’m not in love with you.”

He cleared his throat awkwardly. His shoulders sank down, like he was relieved.

“I see. That’s good, that’s… for the best.”

“So will you cancel Cordelia?”

“Okay. If that’s what you want., it’s done.”

You nodded.

“See, this is better. It’s a lot easier when you ask me things. And I’ll be the first to admit I haven’t exactly been the most talkative either.”

“It’s not exactly our strong suit.” He agreed.

“Yeah. You know, while we’re on the topic, there’s something else you can do for me.”

“Anything.”

“You can run me a bath. A hot one. With bubbles.” You added.

It was slight, but you saw it. He perked up.

“Okay, doll.”

The bath was hot, and it smelt like the softer parts of him, like fresh linen and the spice of his cologne. Again, he didn’t linger, just ran the bath, saw you into the room and let you be. It was frustrating – while it was nice to soak in the hot water and feel your muscles relax, you wished he would just talk to you, instead of acting like you were something to avoid, something to walk on eggshells around. This change in his demeanour wasn’t a completely unwelcome one – you didn’t mind feeling as though you had the upper hand, and held all the cards for once – but you didn’t like being treated like you were broken, either.

You sank your head underneath the bubbles and stayed down there for a few seconds, the rush of water clouding your eardrums. It was a peaceful kind of noise, and when you came back up for air, you found yourself breathing a little easier.

You pondered. Processed, considering the steps to take next, rolling your neck out and stretching your feet to the edge of the tub. Anytime you thought you’d reached any sort of plateau with Coriolanus, something new would pop up out of seemingly nowhere. You hadn’t minded the danger at first, it drew you in and kept you hungry for more, but you’d grown tired, weary from the whiplash knotting your neck.

When the water cooled, you looked around, but couldn’t see a towel. You cleared your throat.

“Snow?” You called out.

Soft footsteps. Then, his voice from behind the door.

“Everything okay?”

“I just need a towel. I can’t see one near me.”

“They’re in the linen closet in the corner.”

You eyed the floor between the tub and the closet.

“I’d have to get out and drip bathwater all across the floor. Can you just come in here and hand me one?”

Silence.

“Please?” You added.

More silence. Then he quietly cleared his throat.

“Yeah. Okay, fine. I’m coming in, I won’t look.”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

The door cracked open and he made a short beeline to the closet, unfolding a towel and holding it out. When he walked to the side of the tub, he looked off to the side like the colour of the walls was suddenly the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

You pulled yourself out of the water, shivering as the cold air hit you. Then you backed into the towel and took it from him, wrapping it around yourself, sinking into the soft cotton. He stood behind you, paused, seemingly suspended in place and unable to move. You heard him draw in a breath, inches from the back of your neck.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. His breath caught on the droplets of water gathered on your skin, and it warmed you and gave you a chill at the same time.

“I know you are.”

Then in a flash, you spun around, lips on his, hungry. He kissed you back like he had something to prove, and hell, maybe he did. His hands tangled in your wet hair and yours made for his shirt. The towel slipped to the floor and fell in a pile at your feet. One button came open, you broke the second, which flew into the air and landed on the floor with a tap. He pulled you in closer, hands all over you, and you worked frantically at the third, not caring if it broke, not caring about anything.

“Doll.”

You looked up at him, at his blown-out eyes.

“Want you to fuck me.” You breathed.

“I can’t.”

You jolted to a stop, catching your breath. He took a step back.

“What?”

He pulled in slow breaths, like he was trying to cool himself off. His eyes pressed shut.

“Not like this. Not until I know you trust me again. I don’t… I can’t hurt you again. I won’t do that. I need you to forgive me first. Completely.”

You exhaled slowly, then cleared your throat, lowering to the ground to pick the damp towel off the tiles. When you came back up, half-covered, he was staring at a spot on the wall again, breath laboured.

You tied the towel around you, and looked right at him as he looked away, eyes averted.

“You sure about that, Snow?” you drawled. “You sure as hell don’t look it.”

He swallowed thickly.

“I’ll let you get dressed. I’ll just be in the bedroom.”

You brought your hand to your lips, brushing over where he’d just kissed them once he’d turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. You eyed your pile of clothes with disdain.

He was back at his desk when you walked out, wrapped in a shirt he’d offered you, hair towel in hand. He didn’t look as focused on his work this time.

“I cancelled Cordelia. So don’t worry about that.”

“Thank you.” You made for the bed, and climbed back onto it. “Rather just talk to you anyway.”

His jaw tensed. It seemed he was still doing everything in his power not to look at you.

“You know, there’s this thing called eye contact. Remember that thing Cordelia waffles on about? It’s important when you’re having a conversation with somebody. I’m a big fan, myself.”

His eyes shot daggers at you. But at least he was looking.

“And what did you want to talk about, exactly?”

You shrugged, and he glanced back at the desk, and pretended to study one of the papers there.

“I don’t know. All of this, I guess.”

Much to your annoyance, he didn’t answer. Your eyes swept the room again, and you brought the towel to your hair. The sun was high enough now to light up the silver chain on the nightstand, and you took it in your palm, turning it over.

“Did you mean it when you said I could have this?” You wondered aloud.

He looked at you again.

“Wasn’t sure if you remembered that.”

“Well, I do.”

“Then I meant it.” His words shouldn’t have made you smile, but they did.

“Will you put this on me?” You asked.

“Uh. Sure.”

The chair creaked as he pushed it back from underneath him, and he walked over to you cautiously, perching on the bed, taking the dog tag, then ever so gently brushing your hair to one side.

“Can I just ask-”

“Anything.” He said quickly.

The cool metal slid onto your chest as he secured the chain, falling low.

“When you were out there, did you…” you swallowed.

Say it.

“…hurt people?” You praised your voice for not shaking. The silence in the room was deafening. But he finally answered.

“I did what was necessary.”

“It must’ve been awful.”

“Yeah.” He said quietly. “It was.”

“Do you think about it much?”

“More than I care to admit. But it was a long time ago.”

You turned to face him.

“Doesn’t make it less real. I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine how hard it must’ve been.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. What matters is that I’m here now.”

You smiled.

“You didn’t get too bad of a deal of it either, President Snow.”

He put your hair back into place, fingertips trailing your shoulder.

“I certainly didn’t.”

You thumbed the cold steel, an odd feeling of satisfaction washing over you.

“Was it worth it?” Your voice sounded quiet, even to you. You were fully aware of the weight of the question, heavier still from the complete understanding that you barely knew what you were asking.

“Yes.”

It should’ve scared you, the surety in his voice. But it didn’t.

Warm breath caressed your shoulder blade, and it really shouldn’t comfort you, but it did. You cleared your throat.

“Thank you. For putting it on. I always get these things tangled.”

“My pleasure. I meant what I said though, sweetheart. No wearing it where anyone’ll see, okay? I need you to promise me.”

You turned your head, shifted so you faced him. You suddenly realised just how close your faces were, and your voice dropped low.

“I promise. It’s nothing new. We’re no strangers to secrets, you and I.”

Your noses were almost touching, and he was looking down at your lips. You drew in a breath, and inched in impossibly closer. You felt his breath on your lips, hot and shallow. Your nose bumped his.

And then his lips were on yours again. But just as quickly, he pulled away.

“Don’t.” You pleaded.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I can’t. Not until I’ve fixed this. Please, just… tell me what you need me to do. I’ll do whatever you want.”

You sighed, pulling away.

“This is what I want, Snow. But…”

“Yeah?”

“I just… never knew it would get so complicated. I think for now, maybe I need a little time.”

“Okay. We can do that.”

“I might go home over this weekend. Spend some time with my parents. No tricks, okay? No messengers, no word from you, the entire time. I’ll come back here on Monday morning, and I’ll tell you what I’ve decided then.”

He nodded.

“That’s fine.” He cleared his throat again. “So you’ll leave tomorrow morning?”

“If that’s okay.”

He seemed as satisfied as one would expect with that solution.

“Yes. Of course, anything you want.”

“Thank you, Coriolanus.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d say he looked a little disappointed by the formality.

“And Snow?”

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“Before I go, will you lie next to me for a little while?"

It was oddly intimate, the way the day stretched on. He lay next to you for a while, and you sank into the sheets and eventually dozed off. When you woke, he was still there, quietly tapping at the typewriter and poring over paperwork. You spent the rest of the day in his room, in bed mostly, with food being brought up to you which you shared in mutual silence or casual conversation. Lucille packed your bags, and you spent the night in his bed, a little distance between you. But when you woke up, you had to slowly pull away your woven limbs.

Leaving was a quiet affair. Snow gave you a chaste kiss goodbye, and Henry snuck you and your bags through the back exit and kept to backroads, so nobody would know who you were or where you were going. Your parents didn’t know why you were visiting either; they didn’t need to. As far as anyone was concerned, you were taking a short weekend trip to check in with your family.

The two days passed quickly. You spent the time reflecting, debating what your next move would be, and listening to your parents argue. You found yourself glancing at the clock by Saturday afternoon, and by Sunday night you were practically crawling out your skin ready to leave. You considered what he’d offered you; an apartment on your own, somewhere in the city. But the thing is, you’d grown used to his moods, to just having him around, if only to dig your fingers into and pry open, searching for secrets. Life would feel awfully dull without it. You’d never met someone who was a match for you, who challenged you. You wondered if he felt the same.

Monday morning rolled around and you let out a heavy sigh of relief as you climbed into the car. Henry glanced back at you, but didn’t comment.

The second the manor came into sight, your head clouded with doubt. Would he want you to stick around? You’d spent the last couple of days toying with all outcomes like some omniscient god, but until now you hadn’t considered the fact that Snow might’ve done some thinking through of his own.

But as you pulled up at the side door, there he was. Standing perfectly poised, waiting for you, and all your worries washed away as he looked at you. Henry opened the door, and Coriolanus offered his hand as you stepped out the car. He looked at you with the same intensity as he had that very first night in his room, when you’d finally dropped the charade, and you returned the stare. Even just feeling his hand on yours set your skin on fire.

When you finally got inside and it was just the two of you, he stopped you.

He looked regal before, proud and superior. Now, you could tell it was a façade, laced with a nervous discomfort.

“Well?” He prompted.

You looked at him. Took in the way his eyes couldn’t stay in one place for too long, the tightness in his jaw that only appeared when he was under pressure, and the slight urgency seeping through his otherwise controlled question, and realised then that you hadn’t been the only one going a little insane these past few days.

And now, you had the upper hand again.

“Upstairs,” you answered. “Your room.”

When the door closed behind you and he paced towards the desk, you almost smiled at the parallel. It felt like an age ago that you’d strutted in here, dressed in his suit jacket with something to prove. You knew the cards you were about to play now like you had then, but your thoughts still raced.

Snow cleared his throat.

“So? Have you made up your mind?”

You waited for him to turn and face you.

“I have.”

“And?” So quick to reply. You’d never heard him so on edge.

You wet your lips, taking a step towards him. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying stretching this out a little, watching him squirm.

“I’ve decided that… I’m staying.” You said finally.

He let out an audible breath, almost like he didn’t care about you hearing his reaction anymore. Like he’d been strung out the entire weekend, just like you. Like he’d imagined this conversation in a million different ways. He stepped towards you. This was an old dance; one you knew well. You closed the gap between you, and his hand grazed your jaw.

“I’m glad to hear it.” He said. You held his gaze, he brushed your lip with the pad of his thumb.

“Can I…” His voice dropped.

“Not just yet.”

You relished the little frown that knitted his brows.

“I know you, Snow.” You continued. “You’re good at what you do. You’re better at this than anyone out there. You’re dedicated, and I think that… something tells me you’re going to be President for an awfully long time. I want to be by your side when that happens. I’m not going away when this arrangement suits me too. But I have terms.”

He watched you as if he was mesmerised, and you wondered if he even noticed the way you slowly walked him towards the bed. You hid your smile as the spell broke, and the back of his legs bumped the ottoman. He gazed down at your lips, just a little thrown off kilter.

“Tell me.”

You got closer, lifting your hands to the lapels of his shirt and giving them a tug, turning him so you were stood against the ottoman and he was facing you. He moved so easily, as if this was a dance, one you’d practiced a hundred times over.

“Let’s start with this. You said you’d do anything for my forgiveness, right?”

“I meant it.”

“Good.” You nodded, “Because there is something you can do for me.” Your hand traced his jaw, and he leaned into it.

“Name it.” He whispered, lips pressing against your palm. “It’s yours.”

You leaned towards him, faces close, noses touching, foreheads pressed together. You could feel the almost on your lips, could feel his breath. You relished in the feeling, that electric tension between the two of you. You held onto it, inhaled it like smoke, before cutting it loose.

“Kneel.” You breathed.

Feeling his brows twitch gave you a rush, and when you pulled back, he looked like art. You slowly moved down, sitting on the ottoman, holding his gaze. Then slowly, steadily, like he was walking a gossamer-thin tightrope, he shifted, nudging your legs open to stand between them, and lowered himself down to the floor, knees gently knocking against the hardwood one at a time. You give him a slow nod.

“Like that. Good. Stay there.”

Your legs parted a little further, and his eyes lined up with the way your dress lifted, bunching at your hips, exposing black lace with white trim, barely covering the space he seemed to lean towards.

He wet his lips, glancing up at you. Eyes bright but laden with want, so heavy he thought he might drown in it.

“Can I…” He whispered, and you felt it more than heard it, his hot breath tickling your thighs.

You smiled a little, and shook your head.

“Fuck. Please, doll.”

“Did I ask you to beg?”

“No. But… what can I do?”

You pulled your lip between your teeth as you considered.

“You can take these off. Slowly.”

You sighed when his palms brushed your hips, pushing your dress up then hooking soft fingers into the band of your underwear, slowly pulling them over your hips and down your thighs. He was gentle, pulling back but staying oh so close to you as he pulled the lace past your ankles, tossed it to the side, and moved in again expectantly.

“And now?”

You pushed your legs apart again, just enough. Drew in a breath.

“I want you to watch.”

A sound slipped from his mouth, and you weren’t sure if it was just a shaky breath or a quiet curse. His eyes darted between your face and the heat between your thighs. If you couldn’t already feel the mess you’d made, the way his lips parted and his eyes went heavy-lidded would give it away in an instant.

His gaze followed your hand, unwavering as you slowly brought it between your legs, and lazily trailed your fingers towards where you were aching to be touched. Then with a gasp, you brushed your finger against your clit and starting drawing slow circles, slipping further down to push against your opening, slipping through the mess you’d made just from seeing him knelt on the hardwood.

You kept your head tilted back and your eyes closed, touching yourself with Snow knelt between your legs incredibly brazen, even for you. He was mere inches away, laboured breath dusting the skin of your inner thighs.

But as you melted into the feeling, sinking deeper than you could imagine in just a few short seconds, you opened them again. And there he was, darkened eyes fixed on where your fingers ran messy circles on your cunt, and you let out a soft whine. It was enough to make him redirect his stare to your face, and you couldn’t help but stare back, pressing harder against your clit with a broken sigh. You planted your feet on the floor as you shifted your hips a little, getting slightly closer, making it easier for you to carefully swirl a finger around your entrance, then gently push inside.

“Fuck.” He breathed, rocking forward slightly, to which you shook your head, knee pressing against his shoulder, pushing him back. His pleading eyes drove you on, pushed you to fuck yourself faster, obscene wet noises filling the quiet space.

He looked wrecked; lips parted, eyes begging, glancing up at you. And it only made you all the more shameless, bucking your hips and crying out, gasps slipping from your mouth that you couldn’t deny were getting played up a little for effect. He stared on, looking so fucking small between your legs, so hard you could only imagine it hurt.

You weren’t sure if he noticed he was breathing in tandem with you, but as your breaths picked up, got a little strained, so did his. His eyes slitted, heavy with lust as he stared on.

You got a little cocky; let it go to your head. Nothing would ever beat the rush of adrenaline you felt from seeing the most powerful man you’d ever known giving into you, letting you set the rules. It was intoxicating.

“You okay down there, sweetheart?”

He sighed, slow and heavy.

“I…” He trailed off, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Is there something you need?” Your voice was breathier than you would like, control slipping from your fingertips, but it was still there and the way he looked up at you. His mouth opened again, jaw agape, on his knees like it was a silent prayer. You fucked yourself faster, mean, dripping down your fingers. He finally spoke.

“Please.” He whispered.

“What did you say?”

“I said -” he swallowed “- I said please.”

“Please what?”

“Please let me touch you. Put my mouth on you, I won’t even use my hands. Just let me… baby. Come on.” His voice was raspy and ruined.

“Do you think you’ve learned your lesson yet? I’m not so sure.”

His breath was shallow, eyes wide and blown out.

“I’ll prove it to you. Just let me touch you, and I’ll do anything you want. Please, doll.”

You hummed, pretending to weigh it up in your head.

“Well, since you’re asking so nicely. Go ahead. But keep your hands to yourself.”

“Thank you. Fuck. Thank you, baby.”

He listened, inching in cautiously, like he was expecting you to change your mind, then he pressed his mouth to you and there it was.

Heaven.

“Oh fuck.” Your breath hitched in your throat.

You hummed as he dragged his tongue over your folds, setting your nerves alight, instinctively rocking into the pressure you’d been thinking about since you got him on the floor. His hands, you noted, sat dutifully on his thighs, gripping onto them like it took a physical reminder for him not to reach out and grab your hips, push his fingers into your soft skin and own you.

As welcome as that sounded to your foggy mind, this was about proving a point. You were the one calling the shots here. So you rocked gently against his face as he kissed your clit, lapping at the heat between your legs, only pulling away at intervals to catch his breath, the daylight making the mess on his chin glisten, only to dive back in again, movements slightly limited by the lack of his hands, which you could see was bothering him.

You couldn’t help but tease him a little between gasps.

“I have to say I missed this. Seeing you underneath me.”

He looked up at you. But there was little defiance in his eyes, just want. Want so depraved that it sent a flush through you, making you feel a little unmoored.

“If I didn’t know better, Coryo, I’d say you were enjoying this.”

Face buried between your thighs, a broken whine sent a little shock through your core. You moaned, getting a little strung-out, a little breathy.

“Is that a yes?”

You felt him nod.

“Good. Glad to see you’re putting up less of a fight this time. It wasn’t so hard, now, was it? Giving in?”

This time, his eyes contained a little more fire. He pushed his tongue firmer against your clit, cutting off your question with a gasp. A few moments passed, and you heard him hum.

“Is there something you want to say, baby? Go ahead.”

He pulled back, catching his breath again.

“Still don’t want me to use my hands?”

You shook your head.

“Then can you… if it’ll feel better.” He glanced at your hand, resting lazily on your thigh.

“What?” You knew what he was getting at, but he shot you back a look as if to say, don’t make me say it.

“Don’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m not.” He narrowed his eyes.

“Then say it.”

“Put your hand in my hair. You can… be rough, if you want to. I don’t mind.”

Your smile turned into a sly grin.

“You want me to pull your hair? You sure?”

“I’m sure. I don’t… I liked it, last time.” He confessed quietly.

“Liked what?” You pushed.

He took a steady breath, looking down at the velvet seat you were perched on. He gritted out the words steadily, pointedly.

“When you sat on my face. I liked it.”

You pressed your lips together to hide your smile.

“I know you did.”

He paused, looking down at the floor. Then he looked back up. You brought your hand to his hair, fingers running through the soft strands. He started peppering kisses along the insides of your thighs, something he’d been too desperate to consider when you’d first given him permission to taste you. Now, they sparked the fire even more, and as much as you liked the careful attention, you guided his head to where you needed it. Keeping his words in mind, you gave a slightly rough tug on his hair, and he responded with a pained hum that edged you closer.

At one point, you saw his hand shift to try towards his pants, but you yanked his hair in response.

“No touching yourself yet. Or I’ll only let you watch, okay?”

You built up a rhythm, growing careless with the tugs on his hair so that you felt pressure in all the right places. Your fingers pulled harder as you got close, and you could hear his shallow breath as you took what you wanted from him.

“Fuck. Coryo, I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that. You wanna make me cum?”

He nodded as best as he could with your hand gripping tight in his hair, and the motion only brought you closer, legs growing weak and tired, hooking over his shoulders now that you’d let him closer. You felt the ache build, almost painful with how long it had been, and you felt yourself snap, spinning out of control as your hand tensed, then fell from his hair. Then his hands were on you, gently this time, smoothing over your bucking hips with a level of control that you melted into as the feeling washed over you. He didn’t stop, pressing his tongue against you harder as you fell apart, shaking like a leaf as he worked your cunt until your cries bordered on screams.

“Fuck. Oh my god, that’s it, I’m…” You broke off into a shout, something so outlandish it sounded foreign to your own ringing ears, but you were too far gone to care. You could vaguely feel yourself grabbing at him as he pulled away, at his hair, his hands, anything, as you slumped back onto the bed. Slowly, he propped himself up, placing a knee between your legs and leaning over you. And his eyes, heavy and wanting, had you aching all over again.

He held back a little, clearly still in the space you’d pushed him into.

“Can I…” He whispered, those desperate eyes fixed on your parted lips as you caught your breath.

“Yeah.” You gasped, and he lowered his head towards you.

This time, he kissed you softer. Still hungry, still wanting, but slow, methodical, like he wanted to relish it. Almost like he wasn’t trying to own you, but in that moment, you could almost go so far as to believe the contrary. And your head swam with pride, feeling his lips on yours as he gently pressed you into the soft mattress.

But you didn’t sit in the feeling for too long.

“Was that okay?” He gasped.

“Yeah. More than okay. But you used your hands at the end there, baby. You know what that means?”

His eyes narrowed as his head cleared a little.

“Lie on your back for me.”

He obliged, dropping onto the mattress and shuffling up to lean against the pillows.

“I missed you, you know.” You murmured as you followed suit, hovering over him to get another kiss.

“I missed you too, sweetheart. Thought I was gonna go out of my fucking mind with how much.”

“Yeah?” You smiled.

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t think you’d get rid of me that easily, did you?”

“I hoped not. Glad I was right.”

You smiled again, and shifted closer towards him.

“I could always show you how much I missed you, if you wanted.” Your eyes darted down to the front of his pants, the outline of his hard cock pressing against the material. He went a little quiet again, nodding a little, and you grinned. Climbed onto your knees so you were just a little above him, then swung a leg over one of his to sit carefully on his thigh. You paused for a beat.

“I won’t touch you until you tell me to, baby.”

He sucked in a breath.

“You can touch me.”

You tutted.

“What do we say?”

“Please.” He added quickly.

Without a word, you leaned in, brushing a hand over his cock, starting gentle, but quickly adding pressure. You could tell he was holding back, jaw clenched and eyes fluttering as he tried to control his breath.

“Not getting shy on me again, are you?”

He didn’t answer, just met your eye and you took it as a challenge. Unbuttoned his slacks and with a glance and a nod, slid them down his legs. You licked your palm slow, making sure he was watching closely.

“Fuck.” He breathed.

“Well, if you’re not gonna talk to me properly, I’m just gonna have to work harder then, aren’t I?” You drawled as you slipped your hand underneath his boxers. There was a soft thump as his head dropped back onto the headboard and he cursed as your fingers grabbed the base of his cock.

“Like that?” Your mouth pulled into a sly smile.

He hummed, breaking off into a sigh, lips parted and eyes towards the ceiling as you fisted his cock. I’ll take that as a yes.

You swirled your thumb around the head of his cock, gathering messy precum that had gathered at the tip from your teasing, and it hit you then that most of your interactions until now had been psychological, toying with words, with ideas and almosts. You knew by now what made him tick, which words you could use to push him to the edge, but you’d barely had the chance to touch each other. But you were a fast learner, and you knew what you wanted from this.

You wanted to make him fall apart.

So you picked up the pace, and it must’ve ached with how fast you were fucking his cock with your fist, but his determination not to lose his cool made it all the more exciting. It got wet, and that was one thing his composure couldn’t hide. It egged you on, shifting your own hips on his tensing thigh as your sore cunt pressed against the muscle.

“You can hold back all you like, but I can tell you’re fucking close.”

His eyes fell shut in a lust-clouded haze, breath picking up. His cock twitched in your hand and you grinned. You were tempted to take it down your throat, really see how he held up then, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction just yet, and you were on a high learning just how to make his body respond to your touch, how to make him weak. So you worked your wrist and felt his legs jolt a little, and you knew it was a matter of seconds.

“If you want to cum, you’ll have to ask nicely. I don’t know how generous I’m feeling just yet. Convince me.”

“Jesus.” He gasped.

“No, just me. Go on, baby. Beg me. You wanted to earlier, right? Now’s your chance.”

An honest-to-god whine left his mouth, voice cracked and completely fucking ruined. You slowed your motions.

“No, baby, don’t stop. I’m so fucking close, please.”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum. I fucking need it, I did everything you said, I got on my knees, I fucking… fuck, I did what you told me, didn’t I? Everything you asked? And I didn’t touch myself, I haven’t… fuck. All weekend, I haven’t-”

You pressed your lips together.

“Poor thing. You’ve gone this whole weekend without cumming?”

“I was a little fucking preoccupied.” He gritted out.

“Over little old me? You shouldn’t have.”

“Please,” he repeated, “I need to cum. I did what you wanted, doll, I- shit-”

Satisfied, you picked the pace up again, obscene wet sounds filling the room as his hips rocked a little into your hand as he got close again. Too far gone now to hold back, his face contorted in pleasure, eyes fixed on you. Then, in a seemingly small motion as you leaned into him a little, the dog tag that had been sitting tucked under your dress - and had stayed hidden against your skin all weekend - slipped out, the pendant swinging into the air beneath you, and as Coriolanus caught sight of it, you felt his hips tense, then his cock was twitching and spilling into your hand.

“Shit, that’s so… oh my fucking god, doll.”

You pulled your hand from his boxers and brought it to your mouth, cleaning it off a little.

“You really did need that, huh?” You smirked, and he sighed.

“Yeah. I really fucking did.”

You nodded at his boxers.

“Can I take these off now?”

He pressed his head into the headboard again and nodded, so you carefully pulled them down his legs. Panting and overheated, he unbuttoned his shirt as you threw the fabric to the floor. What he didn’t expect you to do, though, was put your hand back on his still-twitching cock that sat tired and used against his stomach. He flinched a little as you palmed it, and you looked at him mischievously. Started to move your hand again, slow and steady, but firm.

“That’s… baby. Stop, I already came, I… fuck.” He winced, sucking in a sharp breath. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You chuckled, voice turning a little dangerous.

“Oh, you thought we were done?”

“Doll, that’s not – shit – that’s not fucking funny. It’s sensitive, I…” It turned into an uncomfortable hum, but you felt him twitch under your palm, slowly getting hard again. His leg gave a little involuntary kick, much to your satisfaction.

“I… what the fuck.” His voice went quiet and strained, and yours got menacing.

“Oh, you can take it, can’t you? Thought you said you liked me taking the lead a little. You can handle it, can’t you, Snow? Or do you want me to stop?”

“Mm. That’s… was different. Please.” You kept going, a rush washing over you as you wondered if he even knew what he was begging for. You got more daring, rubbing your palm over the tip, and grinned when he cried out.

“You want me to stop? Just say the word. I will.”

He was half-hard again, more cum leaking from his tip as you sped up just a little.

Eyes squeezed shut, he shook his head frantically as the rest of him trembled.

“Didn’t think so.”

His face was twisted like he was holding on desperately, trying to maintain control as you relished in his permission, and palmed him harder.

“Jesus fuck.” He said, voice getting louder now, legs twitching and hips bucking up in little jolts you were certain he couldn’t stop if he tried. You had him now, pliable like clay between your fingertips, shaking apart.

“Is that too much for you?” You taunted, getting cocky now.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He snapped, but it fell flat when his voice broke halfway through the question. You laughed.

“I know exactly who I am, Snow. I’m the girl you’re gonna be stuck with for a long time, and I’ve got some demands to make. So listen closely, because I’m only going to say this once. You know what happened last week?” You were aware you were starting to sound almost as insane as him, but you didn’t care.

“You don’t ever,” you spat, “do that to me again. If you do, I swear on all of Panem, I will fucking kill you. Do you understand me?”

He whined, desperate, so far gone you weren’t sure he was fully listening.

“Say you fucking understand.”

“I… I understand. Fuck. Please. I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so fucking sorry-”

“You’re lucky I’m giving you another chance. From here on out, you only get to treat me like a whore when I tell you to. Okay?”

“Yes. Yes, okay. I understand. I’m… shit.”

“This is a partnership, starting now. We help each other. We trust each other. We talk to each other. We don’t go behind each other’s backs, or fuck around with other people. Okay?”

“Okay. That’s… doll, can you slow down just a little? You’re… I’m…”

“You’re gonna cum again?”

He nodded, chasing his breath. You leaned towards him, lowering your head to his chest and dragging your tongue against his collarbone.

“Good. You can cum again, Coryo.”

“Thank you. Thank you - fuck. That feels… I’m-”

“You gonna cum all over my hand again, baby? Do it, I’ve got you. You can cum now.”

The second time he came was with a pained cry, painting your hand until it dripped down your wrist and onto his stomach. When you finally released your grip, he slumped down and sighed, aftershocks still jolting through him.

“You heard what I said, didn’t you?”

“I did. And I understand.”

“Good.” You murmured into his ear, and you felt goosebumps rise on his torso, “Then I think we can come to an agreement.”

The week went by in a blur of whispered words and tangled limbs. He rarely left you alone, and you barely felt the time pass, every waking moment spent together, flesh on flesh. When he worked, it was at the small desk in his room, and he took plenty of breaks to lounge in bed with you or run you baths.

You learned each other’s tells, growing comfortable touching each other, but Snow stuck to his word, much to your annoyance.

Not until you trust me again, he’d said. Wasn’t it clear enough by you staying?

You’d all but moved into his room, sending Lucille back and forth with hampers for your clothes, which now hang in one side of his closet, or sat folded in his previously empty drawers. You felt closer to him than you ever had before, and the two of you had skin littered with bruises which made you grateful you didn’t have any public functions to attend for quite a while. He’d stopped leaving you to go into the city and work, instead managing people from afar, and letting them get on with their jobs so he could weed out the weakest links.

For the first time, it felt a little like he was yours. Or as much yours as he possibly could be. And as you spent more time together, not just half-dressed and desperate, but talking, really talking, you slowly started to feel like you could be his, too.

“Tell me it feels better than he did. When you were together.” He whispered one morning, when you’d not long woken up and he’d immediately ducked under the covers to get between your thighs. He paused, fingers inside you, looking at you intently, and at first you were confused as to what he meant. You heard the tinge of vulnerability in his voice, and took the cue.

“You really think you deserve that? After everything?”

“No.” He whispered, eyes dropping down again.

“So what do we say?”

“Please.”

“One more time for me.”

He spoke up, voice gorgeously wrecked.

“Please. Tell me it’s better.”

“That’s good. And since you’re being good, I’ll tell you. He didn’t…” you swallowed, catching yourself, “He didn’t really like doing that. what you’re doing.” Your facade cracked a little and you glanced off to the side, not sure what reaction you were expecting.

“Really?” His voice was dumbfounded. It made you laugh.

“You know, Snow, a lot of guys don’t. They’re lazy about it. Want to get it over with, get to the real thing.”

A wide smile pulled at his lips, wolfish.

“Who wouldn’t want to do this?”

“Easy for you to say, handsome.”

He grinned wider.

“Can I try something?”

“I don’t know. will I like it?”

“I think we both will.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper.

“Okay, Coryo.”

His smile only deepened, pulling into an excited smirk as he gripped your hips once more, lightly kissing your thighs as he got closer to where you wanted him.

You gasped as his tongue worked you, and when you came, he kept going, easing up only after you’d fallen apart more times than you could keep count.

“Can’t believe you still won’t fuck me.” You pouted one day, as he sat at the desk with a pen in hand, scratching against paper.

He turned around to face you.

“I told you why. Not until-”

“I trust you again, I know. But how do you know that? I could trust you just fine and you wouldn’t even know it.”

“I’ll know.”

You hummed.

“Or,” you started, slipping off the bed and pacing towards him, “you could just fuck me now and call it square.”

He chuckled.

“Nice try, sweetheart.”

You pulled a lip between your teeth as you stood next to him, and he moved his chair out towards you. You smoothed a hand over his dress shirt, and grabbed a hold of his tie. Then you hooked a leg over both of his and lowered yourself onto his lap, face right next to his. You’d grown comfortable with being close to him, and while it still felt electric, you could handle it better. You rocked your hips on his as you got comfortable.

“Feel familiar?”

He hummed in response.

“I’m getting flashbacks.”

You smirked.

“Can I take this off?” You tugged at his shirt.

“Only if you play nice. No acting up, okay?”

“If you say so.” You shrugged, making quick work of the tie and buttons. Once the shirt was off, your lips were all over him, trailing over his chest and neck, tongue tracing lines across his collarbones.

“You don’t have to be anywhere for the next week, do you?” You murmured into his ear.

“No.” His breath hitched a little.

“Good.”

With that, you closed your lips around his pulse, and sucked.

While you littered his whole torso with bruises, and your neck was given a few of its own, you started rocking your hips lazily against him, playing coy like you didn’t know what you were doing, like you couldn’t feel him rock hard between your legs.

“Now this really is taking me back.” His voice strained when he spoke.

You only hummed in response, lace panties bunching in an all-too-familiar way. But you didn’t work your hips like you had something to prove this time, you went slower, taking your time, but staying deliberate in your movements. Your lips met his, breaking away only to breathe, then again when you felt his hips roll a little and his breath get laboured.

You rocked your hips harder, nice and firm. You could feel his cock twitch through his pants, right up against the wet spot forming on your panties. The friction had you shaking.

“Feel good?” You breathed.

“Yeah. Feels real fucking good, sweetheart.”

You smiled as your head lolled back, gasping loud to make sure he really heard it.

“You know what would feel even better, though?”

He mumbled something back but you didn’t catch it, lost in the haze.

“Think it’d feel better if you were fucking me for real right now.”

You didn’t expect the broken moan that escaped him, hands gripping your hips hard. Like the thought of it was enough to make him shatter.

“Baby,” he warned, “don’t.”

“But it would be so easy.” You pressed, “pushing my panties to the side and fucking into me right now.”

“Doll-”

“I know you want to.” you whispered against his ear.

“Do you now?” His strained voice told you everything you needed to know.

You nodded. “Mhm. I know you do. I also know that it’s driving you crazy, having me this close, but not able to take what you want. You must be going out of your mind, you know how I know?”

“How?”

“Because I am too. I’m tired of this rule, Snow. Let’s just forget about it, and fuck me already.”

“Get up.” He said firmly. You started.

“What?”

“You heard me. I said get up, sweetheart.”

You climbed off his lap and stood, cautiously, legs shaking from how close you’d gotten. He did the same, towering over you a little as you failed to hide the smile on your face.

“Get on the bed.”

You took in a breath, shaky with nerves.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

You sat back on the bed, peering over the mattress as he ducked down to pick up something from the floor.

“What are you-”

“Eyes closed.”

“Okay.” You shut your eyes, then felt him get close to you, his lips meeting yours as he knelt in front you, mattress dipping as he shifted. His hands brushed your arms, slowly pushing them behind your back as you melted into him, and before you could open your eyes, you felt the smooth silk of his tie wrap around your wrists and pull.

“What-”

“You want to act up, doll? Fine. Let’s see how many times I can make you cum all over my fingers before you’re begging me to stop.”

His hand slipped between your legs, pushing your lace panties to the side and pressing a finger into your wet cunt as you cried out. Your eyes pleaded at him, desperate.

“But why can’t you-”

“I said,” he repeated, pressing his finger into the spot that make you see stars, “not. Fucking. Yet.”

He spent hours fingering you open, making you cum until you cried. Then he cleaned up your tears and kissed like you were his whole world as you fell into an exhausted sleep, his words floating around in your head.

The black box was tied with a crisp white ribbon, and sat waiting for you on your bed. You approached it with caution, thumbing the piece of card on top of it. It was a note written in ink.

Wear this tonight. Think you’ll suit it well.

- C.S

You’d gone into your room to collect something of yours to take to Snow’s room. You rarely went into your room anymore, most of your things had found their place in his, much to your satisfaction.

It was the first day in about two weeks that Coriolanus had finally had to leave the house to go into the city, but he’d promised it would just be for the day. It was also the first gala you had to attend since you’d made your decision, which you were slightly nervous for, but mostly excited to get out of the house, because although the sacred oasis that his room had become, it would be nice to have a change of scenery.

And that brought you back to the beautifully wrapped box lay in front of you. You were buzzing. You turned the note over in your hands, pulling it to your face to breathe it in. It smelt like newly printed books, and something distinctly him.

You recognised the label on the box, it was one of your favorite designers. You pushed the lid away to reveal the most beautiful dress you’d ever laid your eyes on – and you’d seen some impressive pieces.

It was a dark crimson red with gold embroidery, soft as silk. You unfolded it gently, letting the fabric spill out towards the floor. It was a little more revealing than anything you currently owned, with a deep slit up the leg and a plunging neckline, waist cinched, but the rest of the dress was floor length. A smile crept onto your face.

After counting down the hours, it was finally time to make your way downstairs. Snow stood in a full suit, waiting at the bottom of the staircase.

“You look beautiful.” He remarked.

“You don’t look too shabby yourself.” You smiled in response.

You met at the foot of the stairs, and he took your hand in his.

“Thank you for the dress. It’s gorgeous.” You added, not sure why you were lowering your voice in your own lobby.

“I knew it would suit you. Now you’re almost ready to go.”

“Almost?” You frowned, not sure what you could possibly be missing.

Coriolanus lifted his hand to pull the white rose from his breast pocket. He examined it, then lifted it to your hair and tucked it gently behind your ear. Your lips parted in surprise, and your hand reached up to meet his.

“But it’s your signature. I couldn’t-”

“I know. But people won’t be looking at me tonight. They’ll be looking at you. And this way, when they do, each and every one of them will know that you’re mine.”

That knowing smile crept back onto your face, and you leaned in to press your lips to his.

When you pulled away, you thumbed his tie, realising the color matched your dress exactly.

“I’m sensing a similar theme here.”

“Well, it’s been a while since we’ve been seen out in public. It’ll be good to show up like this, show a strong front, not leave any doubters.”

You hummed.

“And when we get home?”

His stare drew you in; you could get lost in it and never find your way out.

“That depends.”

Your gaze lowered to his lips, then back up again.

“Missed you today.” You said.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“You promise?”

He smiled.

“I promise, sweetheart.”

“Snow?”

He hummed in response. Your hand felt like it could melt into his, thumb brushing your palm.

“What would you say if I told you that I trust you now?”

His hand stilled. His eyes bored into yours.

“I’d say… that I believe you.”

You held your breath in, letting the anticipation wash over you.

“Later?” You whispered, and he nodded.

“Later.”

The ball was one of the most extravagant you’d seen, large chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and fountains of champagne dotted around. The health minister had outdone himself, and when you said so to Snow, he muttered a comment about him spending more time planning parties than doing his real job. But he smiled to all the right people, and his hand in yours calmed your nerves as a large procession saw you into the ballroom.

You danced until your feet turned numb, spinning on the ballroom floor, every time Coriolanus put his hands on your waist or wrapped his hand around yours drawing you in further, bringing you closer to forgetting everyone was watching you when his eyes were on yours, each stare becoming some secret language you were now terribly well-versed in. He didn’t let himself get distracted this time, quickly gravitating back to you any time he got pulled away into a conversation, and you basked in the attention, the two of you flirting to high heaven. When you’d spun until you were dizzy, he went to get you a drink, and you stepped off the floor of twirling couples.

It was then that you saw your mother, standing anxiously to one side, the stem of a champagne glass pressed between her fingers. Your parents rarely made it to these functions, but apparently, they had made time for this one. Suddenly aware of your frown and not wanting to arise suspicion, you plastered on a false smile and swanned through the crowd in her direction.

“Oh, darling. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Of course I am, mother, I wouldn’t miss it. Is everything alright?”

She glanced around the two of you nervously, fiddling with her glass. You touched her shoulder and gently guided her further into the corner of the room. You rarely saw her this distressed, usually the picture of grace and poise.

“What’s wrong?” You pressed.

“Have you heard from Nathaniel?”

Your brows furrowed.

“Nathaniel Greene? Not in a long time.” You figured the little stunt of yours from the month before should go unmentioned.

“I heard from his parents the other day. They’re completely distraught.”

“Why? What on earth happened?”

For a second, echoes of threats that had long settled to the ground popped back into the forefront of your mind, and you swallowed thickly. You sat down in two small chairs at the side of the room.

“They can’t begin to understand why. Perhaps it was work, perhaps he was gambling, or in debt, but nothing could possibly explain such a cruel fate.”

“Mother, tell me what happened. Is he…”

Her hands shook, and you took the glass of champagne from her and placed it on a nearby tray.

“He’s not dead, my darling. It’s worse. A messenger came to his house late the other night. They asked him to pack a bag, and they took him away. To… I can barely say it.”

“Mother,” you gritted, “tell me.”

“A peacekeeper, of all things.” Horror filled her voice. “They sent him away to the districts, for the next twenty years. But what could he have done? I can barely understand it. Can you imagine? A young man of his standing, wasting away in that place? His family is ruined.”

Right then, the crowd around you parted in a way that could only announce the presence of one person.

“Sweetheart, is everything okay?”

You lifted your head to meet cool blue eyes and a slightly suspicious stare. From where you sat, Snow towered over you both, drink in hand.

“Everything’s fine.” You replied, “my mother isn’t feeling too well. Do you think we could find my father and have him take her home?”

He nodded at an Avox nearby who stepped dutifully away without missing a beat, and a server offered your mother a tray with a glass of water on it. You stood and faced Coriolanus, conscious of the now very interested crowd, and nodded to the large double doors that stood to your right.

“A word?”

He followed you in cautiously.

“I just heard something interesting.” You started.

He stood up straight, setting his jaw when you finally turned to face him. Even though you were barely alone, just a closed door between you and hundreds of people, it felt electric to be standing so close to him again with nobody watching you.

“What’s that?”

Playing it safe. An interesting move.

“Oh, just some rumor about an old friend of ours.”

“Who would that be?”

You smiled.

“I thought it was funny you asked about him the other day. Were you worried if I left you I’d go back to him?”

“Not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t play coy, Coriolanus.” You drawled. “You sent Nathaniel off to be a peacekeeper so I couldn’t go back to him.”

His stony façade fell through a little.

“And if I did?”

The deep frown you’d plastered onto your face for your mother’s benefit fell away, and your lips curved into a smirk.

“I’d say... well played.”

He blinked.

“You’re not upset?”

“Over him? Barely.”

“You’re - ” Snow paused, “so you’re not angry that I sent him away? The districts are hell, you know.”

“I’m sure. I don’t care, Snow. If anything, I’m impressed.”

“Why?”

You shrugged.

“He had it coming. He slept with my closest friend a week after we ended things. He never knew I found out. I’ve just been waiting, really, for him to get what he deserves. I doubted you’d let him off without a warning. There I was thinking you’d lost your touch for a while.”

You wanted to bottle the feeling you got from his eyes burning into you, with something that tasted like admiration.

“I nearly did let him off, for your sake.” He confessed. “But... if that's the case, I'm glad I changed my mind."

“So am I. It was that weekend I left, wasn’t it?”

“Damage control." He said tightly, "You can’t blame me.”

“Thought so. Good work, Snow.” You stepped towards him and revelled in the apprehension on his face with a smirk. “It’s a shame for his family, but they were never particularly nice. Collateral, I suppose.”

“You really don’t care at all?”

“Does it look like I care?”

“No.”

“I think you can read me as well as the next person. So I don’t care. Is that so tragic?”

He shook his head, bewildered. A strange smile appeared on his face.

“No, that’s… that’s good.”

You smirked as a thought popped into your head.

“How long do you think he’ll last out there?”

“Who knows? I hope you’re not banking on him ever coming back.”

You fiddled with his tie, smoothing it down.

“Never. We can’t all be Coriolanus Snow, can we?”

“Certainly not.”

You stepped even closer, and his back bumped softly against the wall. His gaze fell to your lips. You'd painted them a red so deep it was almost black, matching the dress.

"You like the color?" You asked.

"Yeah. Reminds me of when you kissed me in front of everyone and I couldn't get it off."

You laughed.

"Well, it was one way of getting your attention."

"It drove me fucking crazy, you know. It's all I thought about when I jerked off for weeks."

Fuck. Your eyes went a little heavy, laden with want.

“I hope this hasn’t changed our plans tonight.” You murmured.

“Has it changed them for you?”

You shook your head quickly.

“No. You?”

“Of course not.” He brushed a stray piece of hair out of your face.

“Good. Because now he’s out of our way, I’m tired of this party. I want to go home."

His eyes darkened a little and he drew in a breath.

“I’ll go say my goodbyes.”

With one of his hands on the doorknob, you stopped him.

“Snow?”

“Yes?”

“I don't want you to be nice. Later, I mean.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was just a few squeezes shy of breaking off the doorknob.

Your body slammed against his bedroom door with a force. His hands travelled under your clothes; wanting, needing to touch. You sighed and gasped at the feeling, his cold hands on your skin shooting chills through you, tugging off your clothes, kissing your neck, taking all that he wanted but still desperate for more. The rose had long fallen from your hair and lay, forgotten, on the hardwood. He kissed you with purpose, like he was once again trying to prove that he owned you, all the while understanding that he couldn’t. Maybe that’s what pushed him to touch you, to kiss you like it was the last time, like he was scared you’d float away somehow, even though you both know that wouldn’t really happen.

You understood it, because you felt the same way about him.

You revelled in it, in the way his hands wrapped around your back, lowered to your legs, and lifted you up to push you harder against the door. His lips travelled across every square inch of bare skin he could find, your dress pushed down to your waist, lace bra exposed.

“Take it off.” He whispered, and you arched your back, reaching for the clasp and unhooking it with lightning speed. The lights were dim in his room, casting shadows that danced as the two of you moved together. Your head fell back against the solid wood as Coriolanus licked a trail up your neck. It was depraved, more passionate than anything you’d felt before. You could hardly think, blood pumping through your veins faster than you could stand. The only thing louder than the rush of blood in your ears was the sound of your breath mixing, hot and heavy as you took, impatient and without apology.

You cried out as his hips pressed harder into yours, and you could feel his length pressing up against you for the hundredth time. Except this time, you could finally let yourself imagine him inside you and trust that he wouldn’t turn this into another round of the game you’d thought endless. You squeezed your legs around his hips.

“Bed.” You gasped, and he grinned, wolfish and thrilled. You were the luckiest girl in Panem, to get to see him look at you that way.

“Been waiting to get this dress off you since I had it made.”

“Don’t tear it. Be gentle.”

“With you, or the dress?”

You narrowed your eyes as he carried you to the bed and placed you down on the mattress.

“Thought I told you that already.”

He was careful with the dress, slipping it over your hips and draping it over the back of the desk chair. When he came back, you were propped up on your elbows, legs bent at the knee, stare unwavering, panties the only thing left to take off. He was still wearing too much, shirt messily undone, pants still fastened but barely concealing the tent beneath them.

“You sure about this?” He checked.

“That a trick question?”

“Doll.”

You laughed.

“Yes, I’m sure. Take off your shirt, handsome.”

He pulled off the white shirt methodically, and you shifted onto your knees to pull off his belt and toss it to the floor, eager to speed things along. You took in his toned chest and let your gaze sink down to his boxers, where his cock stood painfully hard beneath the material.

“Can I…” You prompted.

“Fuck. Yes. Please.” He sighed as your nails trailed up the bare skin of his thigh and brushed softly over his cock.

You smiled at the addition and took one last glance at his face, anticipation clear on his features that morphed a little in the near-darkness. Then, you pulled the material down his legs and his cock sprung free, and you forgot that you’d done this before, that you were used to this, to him, to being with him in almost every sense. It all slipped away, and as your hand reached to touch him with nothing between the two of you, it felt like the first time you’d ever done it. The breath he sucked in as you started to push the precum around his tip urged you on, making you brazen, and you readjusted your knees on the bed and got closer, then licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip.

“Oh my – fuck.” He groaned, and you couldn’t help the smile on your face, grateful for the darkness.

“That okay?”

He laughed, something dark and untethered.

“You fucking know it is. Such a fucking tease.”

“Wouldn’t be such a tease if we’d done this sooner.”

“Somehow I doubt that, sweetheart – ah.”

He was cut off by you taking the tip of his cock in your mouth and sucking hard as you gripped the base. You pumped your hand a few times and revelled in the sounds he made, choked out grunts and broken sighs, mixed with the occasional curse or a cry of your name.

You felt his hand gently brush against your hair, ever so cautious.

“Can I…”

“Mhm.” You hummed in the affirmative, and he sighed, all low and shaky as he pushed his fingers through your locks, not guiding, just careful pressure on your scalp as he let you take the lead.

“Baby,” he gritted out, “I don’t know how much longer I can… fuck, that’s-”

He sucked in a sharp breath as you stopped, pulling off, lips swollen. You looked up at him, stunned as he caught his breath.

“Coriolanus?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we turn a light on? I can’t… I want to see you.”

In the shadows, you could just make out the glint of his eyes and a dumbfounded smile.

“Of course.”

He stepped away, kicking off his boxers, and you watched him reach over the desk to switch on a small lamp. It lit up his face and you took him in, a thin cast of sweat shimmering across his face and chest. When he turned, you glanced away like you hadn’t been staring. He caught on with a grin.

“Like what you see?”

Such a dick.

“I’d like it better if you were over here.” You mumbled as he paced back towards you.

“You’re the one who wanted the light on, sweetheart. Now I know why.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Snow.”

“Coryo.” His breath danced against your lips as he closed in, lips sealing against yours as he pushed you back on the bed.

“Coryo.” You repeated with a smile when he pulled away kissing down your neck and chest, feeling the shape of the name in your mouth.

Then his hands were on you again as if they’d never left. More heat pooled between your legs as he trailed his hands down your thighs, and you let your head fall back as his fingers pressed through the seam of your panties.

His breath got shaky again as his fingers pushed the scrap of wet fabric to the side. You gasped as his thumb went straight to your clit, determined, rubbing tight circles against the hard nub.

“Oh my god, Coryo, I-”

“So fucking wet, sweetheart. Is this all for me?”

It was too much all at once. You pressed your lips together tightly and nodded. Beside yourself, your left hand pressed against your mouth to muffle your moans.

Then he fucking stopped. Your hand fell from your mouth, and you felt the lace get pulled down your legs.

“What are you…” You trailed off. The dim light let you make out his face and you could see his expression now, wanting, but careful, methodical.

“Open your mouth.”

When your lips parted, a little in response, but moreso in surprise, the two fingers he’d been using on your clit slipped into your mouth, pulling your jaw open as his other hand propped him up. You could taste yourself, hot and heavy, spilling onto your tongue.

“I want to hear you, baby. You can’t cover your mouth like that if I’m gonna hear you.”

You nodded, brain a little dead.

“Good girl. Now I don’t have a free hand, know what that means?”

You cried out a little, tongue trapped beneath his fingers.

“Touch yourself, doll. I’ve got you. We’re gonna get you nice and fucking close, okay?”

A little self-aware with him hovering right above you, you snaked a hand between your legs, but when you saw the look on his face you stopped wasting time, pushing two fingers inside yourself, heel of your hand bumping your clit as a whine slipped past your lips.

He kept talking, whispering hot and heavy into your ear, dragging his lips over your neck, pressing kisses wherever he could reach, every touch burning your skin like it was molten. When you’d lost yourself enough, mouth still parted; his fingers gentler now he’d made his point, he ducked his head lower, trailing his lips over your tits, placed his mouth over your nipple and sucked. Your moans got louder, feeling like every inch of skin he covered was hardwired to your cunt, your fingers getting tired and sloppy as you got yourself closer, dripping down your thighs.

You made a sound and he glanced up at you, pulling his fingers from your mouth.

“Just fuck me. Please, I can’t wait anymore, Coryo.” You whined, trying desperately to slow down your breathing.

“Poor baby. Couldn’t make yourself cum first?”

You shook your head, any more and you were sure your eyes would start to water.

“That’s okay, doll. I wasn’t gonna let you anyway.”

He lowered himself down towards you, arms either side of yours, crowding you in. Then his hands travelled down, lower, and your eyes rolled back, mouth agape as you felt his cock press against your entrance.

“Fuck.” You whispered, and he was strangely quiet. You blinked, and looked down at him, and you’d never seen such a pained look on his face. His lips parted, eyes heavy and slitted as he looked down at where his cock rubbed up and down like he was in a trance, slowly nudging your clit and getting himself wetter, tip glistening in the dim light.

Desperate for friction, you started rocking your hips, aching for him to push inside of you.

“Not just yet.” He breathed, voice strung-out and insane. “I won’t make you wait much longer, baby.”

“Please. I need you to fuck me. Don’t make me fucking beg.”

Usually, you’d see a sly smile appear on his face, but he just pressed his eyes closed as if the thought was going to send him over the edge. It was the sweetest torture you’d ever felt. Then, finally, you felt his cock catch at your entrance, and slowly press inside. You gasped at the pressure, at the size of him, and he was barely even moving.

“That’s it, baby.” He breathed. “I’m right here.”

He shifted his hips a little, and you clawed at his back, nails digging in until he hissed, rocking your hips to beg for more. You didn't want him holding back, not when you'd waited months for this. You strained your neck lifting it from the bed to whisper in his ear.

“I meant what I said, Coryo. Don’t be fucking nice.”

It was as if something in him snapped. Like he was holding on by a single thread, and you’d send him spiralling out of control. His hips jerked forward and you cried out as he filled you to the hilt, then rocked into you again, picking up a pace that was almost punishing. You tasted it, still wet on your lips, clung to your skin, and now, deep inside you.

Danger.

“So fucking pretty. Does my pretty girl need to get fucked, huh? Just like that?”

You could barely form words, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him in further, feeling pinned open and beautifully used. Your cries melted together in your head until you could only understand bits and pieces, and as he fucked you, unrelenting, you felt your back slide up the mattress. Your nails dug into his back, and you were sure they must’ve drawn blood. His forehead pressed against yours,

For a second, he slowed, looking down at you.

“That okay?” He muttered.

You nodded, frantic, barely there.

“Yeah.”

He sped up again and your legs grew weak. He reached his free hand down to grab hold of your thigh and push it higher, the new angle making you see stars, clenching around him impossibly tight.

“Good fucking girl.”

At some point, as you exchanged fewer words and more heated glances, you felt your hand slip from his back and come to rest against over his on your thigh, to hold it in place. He took it in stride, taking it in his, fingers interlacing as his thumb brushed yours.

You didn’t think much of it. How could you? Not when he was stretching the walls of your cunt as you gripped him like a vice. Not when you could barely hear the words coming from either of your mouths. But oddly, it was the gentle contrast that pushed you to the edge as he fucked into you just like you’d asked, hard and unrelenting, mean.

Despite it all, it was the thumb that brushed yours that had moans spilling from your mouth as you both took exactly what you wanted from each other. It sparked something in you, something that let you know you were safe here, that there weren’t any walls between you anymore, no twisted games that wouldn’t benefit you both equally.

“I’m close.” You gasped as his cool blue eyes spilled into yours, and you knew he was all yours.

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? I can feel it.”

You nodded silently, muscles in our thighs tensing around his back, the hand that was twisted into yours now falling onto the bed beside you. He gripped it tighter, and fucked you harder, with a point to prove. When your eyes slid shut in ecstasy, right on the edge of falling apart, he squeezed your hand, palms hot and clammy against each other just like the rest of you.

“Look at me, baby.” He urged, fighting for breath. “You’re so fucking close, I need – shit – need to see you when you cum for me.”

It wasn’t hard to keep your eyes open, to keep them on him when he looked like that, like he was carved by the fucking gods, brow scrunched and shining with sweat, eyes bluer than ever, lips parted in an o shape. It was the prettiest sight you’d seen, and your hand tensed around his when you came, trembling like a leaf, mouth parting in a shout you barely heard, eyes focused on him, only him as he fucked you through it.

"Fuck, that's it, doll. Like that? Right fucking there?"

You cried out in response, and as you spilled apart, you heard your name slip past his lips through your ringing ears , followed by a string of curses, each one filthier than the next, not letting up once as he followed you over the edge, hips stuttering as you felt warmth fill your walls and his head fall down onto the pillow beside yours.

A few moments passed as you let the feeling wash over you, feeling the wonderfully sore, sticky mess between your thighs after he pulled out. You heard him catch his breath, then tumble onto his back by your side. You sighed as you stared at the ceiling, then at him, and with a smile realised he’d been looking at you.

“Like what you see?” You echoed. He smiled, coy.

“You know I do, beautiful.”

You sighed, satisifed.

“Keep calling me beautiful, Snow, and I might start thinking you want to fuck me.” You teased. “Wouldn’t want to give a girl the wrong idea.”

He laughed, bright and loud. A few more seconds passed, and you hummed.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Nothing.” You shrugged. “I’m just a little annoyed I didn’t get to ride you.”

He swallowed then smiled, almost awe-like, transfixed. It was a feeling that you’d gotten used to over the past few weeks, but it felt new this time. Different.

“You’re not done?”

“Are you?”

He glanced at your lips, then back up again, voice earnest.

“Not with you, sweetheart.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper.

“Good. Then lay back. Head on the pillow for me.”

He obliged, blonde curls spilling over the fabric. You liked it when he grew his hair out a little, you thought as you hooked a leg over his waist. His hands came up to touch you, but you pressed his wrists back into the mattress.

“No touching, Coryo. You hear me?”

He nodded, eyes darkening again, and you lowered your head to kiss him, deep and slow. Felt yourself meld into him with a smile as his cock hardened against your thigh.

From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of the white rose he'd given you, discarded haphazardly on the wooden floor.

And something inside you just knew, you’d never get bored of this.

a/n: hope you liked it. thank you again for the love and for screaming along with me this whole time <33

taglist: (more in the comments) : @superchatnoir07 @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii @tqmqkii @not-avery @natsgf @sleepysongbirdsings @hopebaker @darknight3904@pemberlystateofmind @bxtchopolis @real-lana-del-rey @24kmar @louweasleymalfoy @m1ndbrand @coconut-dreamz @cosmicgyral @urfavevirgoo @mk15x @theamuz @ashy-kit @violante777 @ohstardew @ohmeadows

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sinisterexaggerator · 11 months

Text

... In this essay, I will reiterate that "Cad Bane is a depressed, sentimental bastard."

OK, so, @fat-tasty-krogan pointed out that the barrels of Bane's LL-30's are rusty in the Bad Batch via a screenshot and now I cannot stop thinking about things and connecting the dots.

Here's me checking different angles. 100% rusty. This is a man who is the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, a man who is *the* best shot — that’s his livelihood right there. Something is wrong.

I've always thought Cad Bane was depressed, mostly owing to his behavior in the lost arc, but this solidifies it for me. Let's talk about the canon, shall we? (Fair warning: I may throw in headcanons or share some other thoughts along the way, but I will warn you ahead of time if it's an original idea versus what is considered to be canon).

First, let's take the idea that Jango Fett is mentor to Cad Bane. This in and of itself says to me they had a close relationship and that they often worked together in some capacity. I will spare you my thoughts on the rest, but Jango does in fact associate with him and most likely in a meaningful way we never get to see. Jango Fett does not trust easy, yet he trusts him enough to be around his child; his prized possession, let's say.

Proof: When Boba first mentions Bane, (in chorological order) it is in the comics.

Him asking to spend time with Bane, and Jango saying "no, because you already know of him (and others like Zam)," means they had a close-knit relationship in my opinion. One that sadly comes to an end. In this comic, Jango wants to train Boba to deal with "the factor of the unknown," versus the known. Hmmm.

Moving right along.

The next time we see or hear anything about Boba and Cad being in the same room is during the Rako Hardeen/Box Arc, and in the audiobook CW: Stories of Light and Dark in the short story "Bane's story" that is read by Corey Burton as Cad Bane.

In it he states that the "kid's all right," and that he "owed his father a few favors." In the story, he reiterates what happens between him, Eval, and Obi-Wan to Bossk and little Boba Fett. It was Bossk and Boba who helped to create the diversion so that they could break out and escape.

Bane returns, his job foiled, and explains why. At the end of the audiobook Boba has a plan to get them all out of jail, and he wants Bane to be apart of it. This is AFTER Aurra leaves Boba for dead on Florrum ( don't get me started on Hondo, WHEW - they knew each other too, for SURE ), before TBB, and before we see Bane with a plate in his head, this one:

It is still present in the Book of Boba Fett.

Let's not rush ahead, though. Let's back up to a bit to where Cad Bane gets betrayed.

#1 betrayal on screen is Obi-Wan Kenobi as Rako Hardeen. While I don't necessarily ship them, I can see how Cad was very much hurt by this, as he felt he had started to develop a kinship with another hunter, someone who could watch his back, imo. Maybe he hadn't experienced anything like that since Jango Fett. Maybe Rako was ticking all the right boxes; I see Cad as prizing loyalty. When Obi-Wan turned him over, you could see the pain and anger in expression -- he was truly hurt, and he promised to end his life with a blaster bolt between the eyes. I honestly think he despises him and that's that.

Returning now to Boba, it is also canon that Boba was mentored by Cad Bane. Bane's story is also where he mentioned young Boba often reminded him of himself.

In an unaired Clone Wars Arc, Boba Fett works together with Cad Bane on a job. During the animation created for the episodes that never aired, Bane is seen drinking heavily and seems to give two shits less about Boba or the job itself and is not taking things seriously.

Boba begins to question his tactics, and does not like that he is willing to sacrifice innocent townsfolk just to get a bit of money. He stands up against him, and Embo, Bossk, and other hunters present decide to let him take his shot and do not interfere in their duel, even though most likely Bane is seen to be the one in charge or having authority.

In the end they both fall, but Boba was (unfairly might I add) still wearing his helmet. You can tell that the plates on Bane's hat, however, are also armored. Still, it is not beskar. Bane is severely injured.

#2 betrayal: Bossk and Embo retract their weapons and let Bane go head-to-head with the boy. He even looks surprised in the video footage when they do this! It's the same face he gave Obi-Wan Kenobi!

Boba comes out the winner. We see Bossk with Boba in The Empire Strikes back in the future, and in canon they are known to be seen often together. He especially looked after him in prison on Coruscant.

Thus, we can assume, Bossk went off with Boba after Bane's defeat and joined forces, leaving him for dead. I assume, and in canon it is depicted that Embo is honor-coded. If what he thought Bane was doing was not honorable, he most likely left him for dead as well. What we DO see is Todo 360 being there. I am almost 100% certain it is because of his droid he survives. But, where did he take him for help? Hmmm.... HONDO!! (Kidding, kidding - another HC I have, but ANYWAY).

In fact, Todo states he is Bane's "most trusted confidant" to Omega, and I believe this. He's a grumpy dick, but he never outright punishes Todo for anything, and he messes up quite frequently, but he is also a great help.

I have a headcanon that states his reasonings for keeping Todo, though this has no basis in canon:

"The little shit comes back after he is blown apart by a bomb Cad himself planted to go off in the Jedi Temple. Todo is loyal. He's there for him. He doesn't mind he's a grump. He provides conversation; stimulation in the otherwise solitary hours he spends in space. He becomes a comfort, someone to talk to, someone to fill the void that Jango left behind." Perhaps he also acts in the same capacity as a service animal.

Anyway, it is known what Bane thinks about clones. "Once you figure one out, de rest are easy." I don't think he liked clones, even if he tolerated and respected Boba until a certain point in time. He was different, he had "his father's blood pumping through his veins," and maybe Bane had trouble staring at that face - looking in those eyes -especially if there was more to him and Fett's relationship.

Imagine how he must have felt when he betrayed him? When he shot him? When he failed at repaying Jango's favor and failed at being Boba's mentor?

I personally do not believe Bane would have agreed to the Clone contract idea as far as his opinion. I think he would have told Fett he was crazy to have millions of himself running around out there, that there is only one of him that's the real deal. Let's add this to the fact he has to see their dead and dying faces everywhere to the point he's so numb he shoots them every chance he gets - no big deal. No big deal to have to kill one of your partner's lookalikes everyday for nearly the rest of your life, eh? Even after Jango himself is already dead.

Coming to The Bad Batch, it was pointed out by another user that when Omega is looking for a way off Bane's ship, we see some medallions/coins/ingots that have the symbol of the Mythosaur in a cabinet she is searching. That is Mandalorian. Who was Mandalorian? Jango. Boba by default. They are accompanied here by a journal. I think it could be Boba's journal, too. The boy most likely resided with him on his ship as he had the Justifier during the lost arc and they were traveling together.

That man is 100% a sentimental bastard.

You could say he hated Boba. You could say he was his number one enemy, but deep down maybe he felt remorse. He had been drinking. Why? Maybe it was hard to be in Boba's company. Maybe he felt he could have prevented Jango's death. Maybe mentoring him was hard work, but in the end, Boba betrayed him after everything he had tried to do for him. And Bane liked the kid up until this point - said so himself in Bane's story.

In the lost bounty hunter arc, Cad is wearing the same outfit he is in The Bad Batch. Now he has a metal plate in his head. @allsystemsblue mentioned he talks himself up to Shand. Maybe he's trying to convince himself he's as good as he says he is. He headbutts her and it obviously throws him off. He shakes himself out, trying to regain his concentration. I personally headcanon he gets terrible headaches.

The plate is on the OUTSIDE, meaning it's protecting something underneath. I imagine he had a hole in his head and a bit of his skull was fractured. I say he wears the plate to reinforce a soft spot that makes him vulnerable.

Even so, she kicks his ass. He's off his game. Maybe he's been drinking even more since his defeat and embarrassment at the hands of a kid. One he respected, one maybe he called family.

All the other hunters sided with Boba, left him high and dry, and he hasn't even been caring for or polishing his blasters; his moneymakers. They are RUSTY.

He loses Omega, he loses his credits, and Fennec sabotages his ship. This man is pissed. He's at wit's end. For all we know, he sat down and cried afterward before he could figure a way off that damn planet, and the only one who was there for him was Todo.

Years later, we see him confront Boba. He's a hardass. Nothing left of his personality in that show but a villain. It was like they made him extra mean on purpose.

He's still hung up on the past, he says it. He talks about Jango's blood being inside Boba, his "father." He leers at Boba. It is almost as if he takes a pause (again crediting @allsystemsblue for this observation), a moment to truly look at him. And let's not forget the hiss he gives him right before his "final lesson."

"Look out for yourself, anything else is weakness."

GEE! Where did he learn that from, I wonder?! FROM BOBA HIMSELF MAYBE?! He was "weak" for Boba; he was his mentor; he tried his best to do right by his father and train him and he failed. He shot him, left him for dead, betrayed him along with all the other hunters present, and all that was left for him was to work alone. To grin and bear it. To take the jobs that came his way just to survive.

He had to of hit a downward spiral at some point in his life to come to this conclusion; something terrible must have happened, and I guarantee it's this.

Shat on all his life, all the way from being "hatched" in the Descent Ghetto on New Tayana on Duro, poor, coming up from the slums, working hard just to make ends meat.

Can't tell me he didn't have a wall up, and hell yes he was feeling low. What could make a man that mean besides betrayal and sentimentality for something he wishes perhaps he could have changed or prevented all together.

Now he takes the toughest jobs, the ones nobody wants. His reputation is fear and for good reason. He'll do anything for money, including killing innocents according to Boba. Where has his Code of Honor gone?

I'll tell you where.

No one ever respected Cad the way he tried to respect them. No one offered or afforded him the same luxury. Every time he was near to forming a decent partnership with someone, they turned right around and stabbed him in the back. We at least see it with Rako/Obi and Boba on screen. Bossk and Embo count too, for me. Maybe Jango was the only one he could trust. Him and Todo 360, which he was not around until long after Jango's death and in some form could have been a fractional replacement for companionship.

To throw in a few thoughts on Hondo, he knew them both well. Imagine if Hondo also kept secrets from Bane, whether intentional or not, or perhaps befriended him only to manipulate him for his own gain (which is definitely something that could happen). He speaks favorably of him in "Secrets of the Bounty Hunters," and calls him his friend, but he calls everyone that.

At one point they did work together as per the blurb on the back of a toy called the "Pirate Speeder bike," that features Cad Bane and a Starhawk speeder. If Hondo also betrayed him at some point, I can see it only adding fuel to the fire, IF Bane allowed him close to begin with. Considering his reputation, it's possible that no, he did not, but I also ship Cad Bane and Hondo Ohnaka as well as Jango Fett and Cad Bane. I won't go into it here, but I can see them being an insanely toxic, yet perfect match.

To sum it up, yes, he is totally depressed. I feel like this is why. Can't change my mind.

---

P.S.: This is also a lesson in how to cite your sources and give credit where credit is due when thinking about headcanons and fandom fun. :) Ain't so hard, right?

#Cad Bane #Headcanons #Duros #Star Wars #Jango Fett #Boba Fett #Book of Boba Fett #Clone Wars #The Bad Batch #Todo 360 #Bounty Hunters

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swanimagines · 4 months

Text

GOOD TIME | EDDIE MUNSON

Summary: Imagine being a female punk who forms a crush on Eddie Munson, after joining him on detention.

Clock was ticking and you stared at it, silently hoping your stare would magically turn it forward faster. You spun your pen between your hands, the paper in front of you was still empty but you absolutely refused to apologise to Jason. He tripped you and made you spill your drink on your fresh bought books, he deserved that black eye. His enormous ego wouldn't take a hit by a girl so of course he ran to the principal to have revenge.

So here you were, your teacher having told you that you had to write an essay where you acknowledge you did wrong and make up with Jason and you'd have as many detentions as it'd take you to do that before you're dismissed. You hated the idea to your core, you hated the idea to even making up a lie just to get out, it felt like a waste of time when you could be doing something useful instead. Like clean up the cellar or something, not humilate yourself by apologising to that motherfucker. But right now you couldn't do anything else but sit in this chair and wait until the detention supervisor, that stuck up old lady Mrs. Huxley, would give up on you and let you go home, telling you to finish your detention the next day. Knowing her, it would take another three hours, at least - but you would not budge.

Someone knocked on the door and Mrs. Huxley looked up from her book, standing up and her heels echoed around the empty classroom before she opened the door and sighed.

"Here again, Edward?" she asked, cocking her head as she stepped aside. "What did you do this time?"

The boy didn't reply and just walked inside and slumped behind the desk not far from you, and Mrs. Huxley looked up to the janitor, stepping outside to speak with him.

You knew Eddie somewhat, you hadn't talked to him nor your eyes had ever met, but he was infamous for walking on tables in cafeteria and talking about Dungeons and Dragons so loud that it irritated some people, including Jason. You looked at Eddie for a moment before your eyes shifted on the clock again, and after a brief silence, you heard the boy snort.

"You're the girl who punched Jason, right?" he asked, and you nodded slowly. "I've seen you around, you seem cool. I'm Eddie."

"I know."

"Cool."

There was a pause, and then you spoke up again. "I don't think we need to be best friends just because we share a detention room."

You didn't look at Eddie, but somehow you knew he pursed his lips at that. "No, but I wanted to tell you that Jason's black eye made my day, and to hear you did it... whew."

"Well, that's what I was aiming for," you huffed, but couldn't help but smile a little, shifting your eyes at Eddie to see he was grinning at you. "You have a cool jacket, by the way."

Eddie glanced at his jacket, his smile had proudness now. "Thanks, I tuned it myself. Your gloves and necklace are really cool too."

Somehow that made your heart jump a little, which confused you - you usually didn't get that excited about compliments from half strangers. You nodded in gratitude, and then you were silent again. The silence lasted for a few moments, before you heard Eddie shift towards you again.

"Um, I understand if this is sudden, but would you like to hang out sometime? You seem pretty chill and-"

His sentence was cut down short when the door opened again, and Mrs. Huxley walked around her desk, looking over at you behind her glasses before she leaned back with her book again. You felt blood rushing up to your cheeks at Eddie's proposal - and you knew you were screwed on that moment. You wouldn't say you had many friends, and to know someone like Eddie would want to get to know you better brought warmth in your heart. Even if he was just being friendly.

And when Mrs. Huxley seemed too invested in her book to notice, you tapped the desk with your pen and nodded to Eddie once he looked up. He smiled widely and sat up straighter, nodding back at you in understanding.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #reader insert #female reader #my works

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catelyngrant · 4 months

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The Doctor Who Script collection dropped earlier this week and I've already spent, uh, many hours digging through various scripts (including all of the SJA scripts!), but if you've been here awhile, you know that the first one I went for was School Reunion.

It was really fun reading through what was changed, what beats were scripted vs. which weren't, and the emotional backdrops. One of the things that struck me most was that, for a very bittersweet episode, the script absolutely leaned harder into the bitter side of bittersweet than the episode as aired did. There were elements that I'm very glad didn't stay as well as moments I desperately wish had been kept. Overall, it was a joy to see the original draft of the story that got me into Doctor Who all those years ago.

He's so happy. Transported. Mesmerised. Dazed, reeling from the encounter. Oh, my HEART. This scene was pretty much aired as written, and David played it to the nines, of course, but it's really sweet to see how explicit the script is about how overwhelmed the Doctor is in this moment. So much of the episode focuses on Sarah's emotional reaction (rightly, if not always perfectly) and the hurt/discomfort that colors their relationship once she realizes it's the Doctor, so to have this moment of the Doctor's unadulterated happiness to see her is really lovely.

More highlights (including things that were cut, changed—for better or worse, and just directions that made me happy or that I found interesting) under the cut!

This scene was definitely different. The script didn't include the bit about them both investigating at the school and it has a bit more flippancy. I can't imagine this scene without the iconic slow shot of Sarah backing up and turning to see the Doctor behind her, so I'm really, really glad that they moved away from the idea of them colliding into each other and leaned into the gravitas a bit more.

Oh, what I would've given for them to have kept this!!!

On to the diner scene...oh boy, feelings about this. I've written essays about this scene—how in some ways it feels perfect and appropriate and Sarah's grief/lines like "you were my life" make a lot of sense in the context of the shock and hurt of an old wound reopened so violently, how that shouldn't be taken to mean that she'd wasted her life or that she's been paralyzed by a broken heart for thirty years, how everything is heightened and that's okay even if, on their own, some of these beats paint a grim picture—but whew. This would've been harder to swallow with the last bit, which I remember Lis having mentioned as something she fought back against.

I actually do love that she mentioned UNIT and Harry! But yeah, very glad that Lis talked them out of the last lines. There clearly wasn't an effort to adhere to Big Finish canon but minimizing and deflating her successful career on top of everything else would've been upsetting, and there just wasn't a good reason to paint her entire life as tragic outside of the raw reactions the Doctor's return illicit.

"If I thought about you..." Project it onto my GRAVESTONE!

THIS WAS SCRIPTED I AM SCREAMING, this is one of my FAVORITE little beats of the episode (so much so that I made a gif out of it like 13 years ago!)

The Sarah/Rose dynamic was a little 🙄 in the episode and a little more-so in the script, but I liked this bit:

The explicit apology is nice, but goddamn, I wish they'd kept "He doesn't deserve us."

I'm fascinated by the fact that in the script, she shrugs him off! The script generally has a slightly more bitter tinge than the episode itself did, which is so interesting to me, and that I'm glad was tempered.

The goodbye scene as scripted is set in the ruins of the school. I like that they moved it and created some space and time—everyone's changed clothes, they've had some breathing room, emotions have cooled a bit. It serves the scene better than I think this would have. This bit of the script includes a line that I always assumed had been cut given her line in the episode about "And like I said, I wouldn't have missed it for the world". Other than that, the dialogue and beats are pretty much what we see onscreen.

And then:

I have a very messy tangle of feelings about "Last chance" / "I know" that I'll be sorting out for the next 4-6 business weeks, so...stay tuned. (I also have an essay about ace-spectrum Sarah Jane that builds on the "he was a tough act to follow" line that WILL exist outside of my head at some point!)

Anyway! This was a fun deep dive 💞 I got a Doctor/Sarah-inspired tattoo earlier this month so I'm really in my renaissance era here!otp

#doctor who #sarah jane smith #school reunion #i will be going through the sja scripts next if anyone cares #otp: my sarah jane

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saturn-sends-hugs · 19 days

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Fruit ask game time!

🍈🍈🍈

HAHAHHAHAHA oh anon i love you

🍈 Who’s your blorbo and what are some of your favorite headcanons/ideas about them that repeatedly show up in your fics? Free pass to rant about blorbo opinions.

this might come as a total shock but he's this silly little guy from star wars and he's a clone and his name is Echo it's Echo none of us are surprised lol

This question is weirdly difficult to answer? Like, so many of my headcanons are either just so ingrained in fandom that they're barely headcanon anymore or I just use them so much that I forget they're not canon lol, but I'm sure I can find a couple:

Echo and Crosshair are besties. If you saw them, you'd probably assume they absolutely couldn't stand each other and the rest of the batch were worried that they'd kill each other in their sleep one night, but they are basically inseparable. Not that you'll ever catch them relaxing together, cause if someone else is in the room, they're probably having a verbal brawl, but yk.

Between him and Fives, Echo was the worse menace. The only reason Fives gets that title from everyone else is because he was a worse liar and no one believed him when he said it was all Echo's idea. Echo just pulls his innocent little smile, says Fives' dragged him into it, and lets everyone roll their eyes and forgive him. Then he turns to Fives with the most shit-eating grin in the world because even if it was his idea, no one will ever believe Fives. Echo knows the rules back to front, and that only lets him break them without anyone noticing. (Rex is very suspicious, but he can't actually prove anything.)

Although I don't make it obvious in every fic, I write Echo as autistic. He reads reg manuals for fun, repeats orders, and gets anxious when people don't follow the rules/the plan they laid out. This is largely projection on my part, but I love highlighting these parts of his character because it kinda bugs me when people write him as boring mom character who's pretty much just there to be backup. I just think it's fun to highlight his struggles and give him some badass character moments at the same time :D

Going along with that, Echo is a picky eater!!! If there's one headcanon that's most important about him to me, it's this one, because I am a seriously picky eater and of COURSE i'm gonna project that on my comfort character. They allude to it in the show of course, but I like to take it from being comic relief into being an actual thing he struggles with and feels self-conscious about. I seriously need to write a fic about it lol, there's so much stuff I want to say.

WHEW ok that feels like a long enough rant lol, I hope these were fun to read! I have like a million more but we don't need an entire essay here lol. Thanks so much for the ask, anon!! <333

#saturn sends thoughts #ask game #tbb headcanons

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leareadsheresy · 4 months

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What is the Horus Heresy as a fictional construct (to me) and why is it interesting (to me)?

It's a series of ads for toy soldiers that the toy soldier manufacturer figured out how to monetize, so people will pay to be advertised to. Whew, that was easy. That sounds like a blithe dismissal but actually it's a foundational assumption we need to establish so we can move past it. Assume for the rest of this essay that no matter what else I'm typing, I never forget that the Horus Heresy is first and foremost monetized advertising for a commercial product, and that I hate myself at least a little bit for finding it stimulating.

Disclaimer over. Anyway, I'm writing this at least in part because I know there's at least one person reading this Tumblr who doesn't know anything about the Horus Heresy. I thought maybe I could expand that into something worth writing (and maybe even worth reading!). This is really long so I'm putting it behind a cut.

"The Horus Heresy" is a fictional period of history in the setting of the Games Workshop tabletop-war-game-slash-multimedia-empire Warhammer 40,000, taking place about ten thousand years prior to the "present" of the setting, during the founding of the Imperium, the human faction and arguable protagonists (or at least best-seller) of the property. The Heresy is therefore sometimes referred to as Warhammer 30k. (It's also occasionally called HH, but I won't be using that abbreviation; you can probably guess why.) It is the story of a nine year civil war that occurred when Horus, then the favored "son" of the Emperor of Mankind, recently appointed Warmaster of the (at the time) eighteen Space Marine Legions, turned traitor and lead half of the Imperium's armies against the other half, trashing the nascent Imperium and dooming it to a ten thousand year slide into stagnation and decay that resulted in the current 40k setting. Before the Heresy there was a two century period in the setting called the Great Crusade, in which the Emperor of Mankind (who'd recently conquered and unified Earth just in time for hyperspace storms to clear up, enabling large-scale FTL travel in the Milky Way for the first time in five thousand years) struck out into space with a unified Earth's armies to conquer the galaxy for humanity (before anybody else could take advantage of the suddenly-available-again FTL and do it first), and after the Heresy is an undefined period called the Scouring in which the "victorious" loyalist clean up the remains of the traitors and chase them into exile. So it's a bounded period, nine years between the Great Crusade and the Scouring, with a known narrative and timeline of events and battles, beginning just before the Istvaan III Atrocity and ending with the duel between the Emperor and Horus at the end of the Siege of Terra that left Horus dead and the Emperor an invalid.

As "the founding myth of Warhammer 40,000," Games Workshop has been talking about the Horus Heresy since pretty much 40k has been around, and it has its shape because that shape is useful to a company whose business model is spending huge amounts of money on very durable stainless steel injection moulds it can then operate pretty much indefinitely to sell small amounts of cheap plastic at tremendous markup. Specifically, Warhammer 40,000 is a game about science fiction versions of knights, soldiers, orks, elves, skeletons, demons, and monsters all fighting each other, and each of those armies has different model kits and needs a different set of expensive moulds, but in a civil war game, both sides can use the same models manufactured with the same moulds. In 1988, just a year after publishing the first edition of 40k, GW launched the first edition of Adeptus Titanicus, a game set during the Heresy in which both sides fought with the same giant robots, because GW wanted to do a giant robot game but it would have been expensive to do a 40k-era game where they'd have needed to sculpt and manufacture a different set of giant robots for each faction. In Adeptus Titanicus, both sides played with the same robots and players would differentiate faction with color schemes.

More recently than that, the Heresy as a fictional construct acquired an aesthetic distinct from normal 40k. Games Workshop has, in the past, been structured oddly, with the main studio being treated separately from a secondary studio called ForgeWorld who manufactured more niche models, mainly from resin, a modeling material that can (in theory and when everything is working) hold more and crisper detail than plastic. ForgeWorld has now been folded into Games Workshop proper, but in the past it was, though still profit-driven, headed by artists and sculptors more so than the main studio, and was strongly influenced by military modelers. I've seen it jokingly described as "That group of Games Workshop sculptors who split off because they wanted to do a bunch of historically inspired sci-fi tanks." When ForgeWorld spun the Horus Heresy off into its own variant of (at the time) 40k 6th edition in 2012, with its own dedicated sets of expensive resin models, those models were sculpted (and painted, in promotional materials) in styles inspired by World War I and World War II historical wargaming, in contrast to the more gonzo heavy-metal-airbrushed-on-the-side-of-a-van style of 40k.

In short, the Horus Heresy is a pseudo-history, a nine-year conflict in which the broad course of events was largely known from the start, presented with the aesthetics of historical recreation. Tonally, it's "more serious" than 40k, less gonzo and more elegiac. It is a fictional construct that attempts to evoke the momentousness of "real" war, presented by fictional historians. The Horus Heresy 1st edition game books are written as pastiches of Osprey Publishing military history books, complete with color plates of the uniforms and heraldry of the various forces who participated in it, written in the style of historical documentaries walking the reader through various specific military campaigns during the nine years of the larger war.

The Horus Heresy is also an attempt at Milton's Paradise Lost; I don't really engage with it on that level but I want to mention it. Space Marines are sometimes called the Emperor's Angels in 40k and it's the story of how Lucifer fell and took a third of the host of angels with him. In fact, it's been Paradise Lost for a lot longer than it's been Osprey military history; it arguably started as Milton in 1987 and only became Osprey pastiche in 2012. But I engage with it as Osprey pastiche first.

So why is a po-faced pseudo-historical spinoff of gonzo space fantasy, presented in muted colors with everyone playing variations on the same two or three armies, interesting?

For that, first I'm going to have to talk about superheroes and pirates.

Superhero comics go on forever. There are stories where Spider-Man gets old, but in mainline Spider-Man comics, he does not (unless the issue is about a mad scientist hitting him with an aging ray or something). He's aged a bit between his introduction in 1962 from a highschooler to his current vaguely twentysomething-to-thirtysomething incarnation, but from here on out he's doomed to vascillate between twentysomething to thirtysomething and back again according to the needs of the current arc, like Green Lantern Hal Jordan gaining grey hair at his temples to indicate that he's getting old, only for it to later be revealed that he was going grey early because of an alien parasite, which, once it was expelled, caused all his hair to turn brown again. Until the death of Marvel and DC as comic book publishers, these characters will proceed through an eternal adulthood that never approaches old age. Because Spider-Man stories shy away from openly acknowledging that Peter Parker has aged only ten to twenty years during the 62 year period between 1962 to 2024, stories about him tend to be set in an indefinite now designed to last forever, and even if a particular story did something to set itself in a specific time and place, we understand when it gets referenced thirty years later in real time as something that only happened five years ago in comics time, we the reader are supposed to interpret it through a filter of "Okay something like that happened, but not literally tied to the historical events of thirty years ago, because Peter's not that old." He did not meet John Belushi on the set of Saturday Night Live, because now, John Belushi died before Peter Parker was born, never mind the cover of the comic literally having Spider-Man and John Belushi on it. In the flashbacks to the events of that issue decades later, it'll be some other, more recent SNL performer that he met instead. (They used Chris Farley, although that would have to be changed again if they ever did more flashbacks now.)

The Golden Age of Piracy was a seventy year period, shaped by material circumstances that incentivized plunder of naval trade, circumstances that arose, changed, and ultimately ended. Stories about pirates are implicitly or explicitly dependent on those historical circumstances, and have trouble existing without them. Unlike the indefinite adulthood of a superhero, the Golden Age of Piracy is not an indefinite now that can last forever. I first noticed this while working in tabletop roleplaying setting design, while learning from some of the many, many failures of the first edition of a tabletop roleplaying game called 7th Sea. 7th Sea was supposed to be a game about playing pirates having adventures on the high seas, but the setting and history had not been written to highlight any of the factors that incentivized real piracy during the real Golden Age of Piracy. There was only one continent, and there was nothing like the triangle trade or mass quantities of colonial plunder being shipped back to imperial seats of power, or a recent major naval war that left huge quantities of trained sailors unemployed, or a geopolitical system that left nations plausibly and currently ill-equipped to effectively police their sea-lanes. Looking at the setting it was difficult to understand what all these pirates were plundering, or who they were plundering it from, or why. And you can certainly say "The pirates are plundering treasure and they're doing it because that's the premise of the game," but a well-written setting in an interactive medium like tabletop roleplaying games or fictional war games is deliberately constructed to support and make compelling the conflicts it pitches.

So for starters, mostly because of my own examination of the failures of 7th Sea, I find a limited-duration, bounded-context setting like the Horus Heresy, with a beginning, middle, and end interesting. And it's not that I dislike "eternal now" contexts (I'm enough of a nerd to know about both the Hal Jordan grey hair thing and Spider-Man and the Not Ready for Prime Time Players), but eternal nows have so much become the standard in pop fiction that I find a bounded context refreshing, especially if it makes use of the advantages it affords. To keep audiences interested in an eternal now, every new twist and turn of the plot has to be presented on some level as the most important thing that has happened yet, with the previous twists and turns -- regardless of having been presented in their time as the most important things that had happened yet when they were new -- fading into an eternal plot churn, and this becomes difficult to maintain as a property continues over the decades. In a bounded context like a pseudo-historical war or the biography of a character whose birth and death are known from the start, the eternal plot churn is less inevitable.

Second, I like to watch artists play with compatible variations on a theme, and I like to navigate fictional semantic systems where a story imbues novel symbols with meaning, and for that reason I fuckin' love Heresy-era Space Marine armor. (You may want to skip the next paragraph.)

Okay so check this out. During the early years of the Great Crusade, Space Marines mostly used what's called Mark II "Crusade" armor, an early armor characterized by banded segments around the legs, visible power cabling, and a grilled helmet with a single visor instead of separate eye slits. Over the course of the Great Crusade, a specific field modification of Crusade armor that incorporated heavier armor along the front plates of the chest and legs and a heavier grill on the helmet became so popular that it became standardized as Mark III "Iron" armor -- Iron armor was a side-grade rather than an upgrade, less maneuverable but more effective in heavy fighting in confined spaces like boarding assaults. Later, the Imperial suppliers developed and began distributing the more high-tech-looking Mark IV "Maximus" armor and continued development and field testing of what was, at the time, meant to be designated Mark V armor (as yet nameless). Horus as the Warmaster during the buildup to the Heresy diverted most shipments of new, better Maximus armor to the Legions he expected to side with him, giving them a slight technological and logistical advantage. After the fighting of the Heresy broke out, supply lines were fractured and the Space Marine legions were all forced to cobble together makeshift armor from spare parts and whatever they could reliably manufacture with limited resources, resulting in the creation of what would later be designated Mark V "Heresy" armor in non-production (ad hoc designs using any spare parts that were available) and production (a standardized design using plentiful spare parts and locally manufactured replacements that had been found easy to produce under most circumstances) models, while the armor originally intended to be released as Mark V was re-numbered to Mark VI and named "Corvus" armor after the accomplishments of a specific loyalist general, and also because its helmet looks like a beak. (But even before its distribution to the loyalists, the traitors had stolen the designs and were manufacturing them to distribute among their own side.) Finally, during the Siege of Terra, loyalists on Terra were issued a brand new Mark VII "Aquilla" armor design. That's six armor designs -- Crusade, Iron, Maximus, Heresy, Corvus, and Aquilla (that's a different set of links, BTW) -- all visually distinct but compatible with each other, and all imbued with meaning by the circumstances of their manufacture and distribution (to say nothing of variations like Mantilla-pattern facial grills or Anvilus backpacks). So, for example, Crusade-era Raven Guard would mostly have stuck to Crusade armor instead of switching to Iron because they're all about stealth and maneuvers instead of close-quarters brutality, meaning once the Heresy broke out they'd mostly have old Crusade armor in reserve, and they were the first Legion to be given Corvus armor when that was available… so if I model a Raven Guard character in Iron armor with Heresy gauntlets, that's imbued with meaning, because it's a soldier from the stealthy chapter wearing the most brutal and least stealthy armor mark with armored gauntlets that are makeshift and easy to repair, i.e. he is probably big and angry and likes to punch things above and beyond other space marines, and in contrast to the culture of his Legion.

I typed that awful paragraph nearly off the top of my head; I didn't need to look up any of it except for what Anvilus backpacks are called. I find it semantically satisfying to engage with Horus Heresy model design. Also physically satisfying, because all of these armor marks are little toys I can stick together like Legos and then paint up to look cool. (Or will be, once GW puts out more upgraded kits; currently Crusade is unavailable, Maximus and Aquilla are older kits and too short, and Heresy is older and a bit too short and also only available in expensive resin; they seem to be doing one updated armor mark per year.) Current 40k models are much more varied across all the different 40k armies, but nothing there is as artistically or semantically as interesting to me within a single army as 30k space marines are.

Third… I don't want to say I love trash. I'm honestly not the sort of person to watch and laugh at bad movies because they're bad. But I am interested in observing the success or failure of execution on a promising concept. 7th Sea is, at least, instructive, and its failings informed my work on Exalted. I feel like I have made a good case here for why the Horus Heresy has the potential to be very cool. A lot of visual artists have put a lot of work into appealing art for it, illustrations and modeling and painting; and its bounded pseudo-historical context is unusual and has specific strengths that can make it an interesting change of pace from the forever-now context of most pop storytelling. And yet, in discussion of the Horus Heresy novel series, what often comes up is how nobody, under any circumstances, should read all of the books, because there are 64+ of them and a lot of them are awful. And to some extent this is because some of them are extruded ad copy barely disguised as prose but in other cases they're bad because specific authors with more enthusiasm than skill staked out specific bits of the Heresy as their territory and really enjoyed writing the hell out those corners without being, you know, good at it. I find looking at that sort of thing interesting like a pirate game with a setting where there's no reason for pirates to pirate. The gap between potential and execution is a learning tool.

I don't really have a conclusion paragraph here. These are my current thoughts on what the Horus Heresy is to me and why it interests me. (Currently reading Flight of the Eisenstein, and by "reading Flight of the Eisenstein" I mean "I've gotten back into Elden Ring.")

#horus heresy #warhammer 30k #lea reads heresy

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dastardlydandelion · 1 month

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💌

luc! my darling (platonic)! oh friend, so much to say. i am so lucky we were serendipitous-ly able to connect across the magic box. guess that's where i'll start. so! a heap of credit goes to you when it comes to me even writing fanfic for i show i didn't watch for the following 3 years, because your comments were so insightful and diligent that they got me *thinking* and had those gears turning in my brain! i commend you for that-- every author loves to get comments and it's awesome that you give the kind of commentary that really engages with the work, thus giving aforementioned authors things to chew on!

i think that you're a very diplomatic person and i respect it. like, i noticed that you tend to save your f-bombs for when they really count and you rarely use crass language in our convos. it's actually inspired me to limit my own cursing (online and off). i also think your diplomacy comes through in your creative writing because you have the ability to tackle very heavy and complex subject matter with the grace that it warrants. so more about your creative writing, oh, i love how you can depict varied dynamics between characters so vividly and believable. the character relationships themselves hold a presence in your work, they feel very real and robust, and human! i love how multilayered your stories are and your aptitude for exploring characters (notably but not exclusively a certain freckled firebrand) and ideas that may be a tad, ah, overlooked by fandom at large.

lalala, uh, oh i appreciate that you often take time out of your day to share neat stuff with me, like rare moose spotted or video essays or kitty cat antics! i enjoy chatting it up with you so much, no matter if we're talking about silly things like demogorgonzola or serious things like the importance of helping people.

i also really admire how much nonfiction reading you do, always expanding your information bank and recognizing the importance of knowing our history.

whew, yeah, this is getting long, huh? i am rambling! it's the caffeine i tell you, i had espresso today! i am bouncing off the walls and the brain is running a mile a minute.

i will wrap this up before it gets creepy! so one more thing i love about you...is...wait for it, this one is supremely profound...that you watched scream: resurrection with me and didn't hate it!!!

#lucdarling #tumblr meme

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thatonebirdwrites · 24 days

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did i send you one already? i might be hallucinating

ANYWAY let's talk have you talk about the james and lena relationship por favor for that reverse unpopular ask meme

Oh, you're really making this incredibly hard! Whew.

Something positive about James and Lena's relationship?

Hmmm. I'll dig into how they impact each other. This will only look at the James and Lena strands of the larger Superfriends and Kara ecosystem. (To example the larger ecosystem would require an essay I think.)

First off, their connection shows the growth James has, where he goes from being incredibly distrustful of Lena due to her last name, to dating her a season and a half after her first appearance. He recognizes he was wrong in how he originally treated her, owns up to his bias, and strives to do better. Since he isn't really one to admit when he's wrong, this was surprisingly mature of him. Even after their break-up, he treats Lena respectfully and kindly, which also shows his growth and maturity.

This owning up to his bias influences how he deals with Children of Liberty. He approaches them not only to infiltrate their ranks and figure out what they are really up to, but also to de-radicalize members who may be more on the fence then they appear. His work to deradicalize some of them has mixed results, but the fact he tries is still important.

However, his approach is not something Lena approves of as she finds working with the group incredibly dangerous. They have a fight over it, and that fight is rooted in not - at first - understanding the reasons and ethical considerations the other has.

And yet, Lena still learns from this interaction herself, because she does try to talk to Lockwood and better understand why he is the way he is. She even gives him the truth of how Lex is using him, not only because it might lead her to Lex, but also because she doesn't think he'd be acting the way he was if he knew the full truth. Lena leans very heavily into a strong desire for truth, even if her life itself is shrouded in half-truths and lies by omission. For her, the more information she has, the better the informed decision. (A lesson James also learns from her.)

So in a way, their friendship with the other impacts how they interact with Children of Liberty.

Also, there are several scenes of James and Lena discussing race, which really opens Lena's eyes to something she intellectually seemed to know (since she's well-read), but never actually *considered* in regards to daily-life impact. This, in turn, pushes her away from a more conservative leaning (that the Luthors drilled into her due to being billionaires and unethical) toward a more progressive outlook. She'd already been leaning that way due to her work with the Kara and the Superfriends (considering over half of that group is aliens), but James's impact also pushes her further to the left.

When Lena decides to take the government contract, James takes a stand against it based on his ethics. Lena, on the other hand, stands firm with her idea that she can somehow use this to improve the world. Both seek equality, but how they approach it majorly differs. They clash here in a way that feels irreconcilable, and the romantic part of the relationship ends.

However, later in season 4, we see James and Lena working together to find Lex. Their romance may be gone and dead, but they still show support to the other as platonic friends. Lena reveals her regret at taking the government contract since it wasn't used for good at all in the end. She has a few lines with James in those episodes that shows how she finally comes to understand his concerns about the ethics of harun-el and the contract itself.

Although her hunt for the antidote to harun-el is to help James and stop her brother, she also shows a better understanding of the ethics of the contract and harun-el itself. Of how her work did not improve life for people, but instead gave tremendous power to those causing harm.

James, in turn, does come to understand why Lena took the contract, even if he ultimately disagrees. He sees how she wants an even playing field for everyone, even if her approach was rather grey in a moralistic sense. This impacts his decisions in season 5 actually, when he goes back to his hometown with Kelly. Instead of going into judge-mode (like he might have done in Season 2 and early 3), he seeks to understand the dynamics of his hometown and what is happening there. He decides to assist his hometown in evening the playing field (to build up toward equality and equity), but his approach to it differs from Lena's.

Lena has a tendency toward using science to even the playing field and push for equality. James, on the other hand, uses written word and conversations to build up a movement for that same goal. He learns how to engage the community, but his growth here wouldn't have been possible without Lena (and his other friends) acting as his foil. To point out his own biases.

For Lena, her redemption is impacted by things she learned from James. She even partially quotes something he said in her dialogue with Kara during her redemption period. So although it takes her much longer to process the lessons learned from James, she still comes to an understanding, and it influences her approach to situations in later seasons.

So although their romantic relationship had no chemistry and made no sense, they end up assisting the other in better understanding the world, their unconscious biases, and ethical considerations of situations faced.

What they teach each other is part of an ecosystem, because both James and Lena learn from Kara and the others, and this interwoven web propels their understanding of themselves and their world forward.

They could have still been these foils for the other without the romance, and I posit the show would have been better if they had never been romantically together. But I do think their platonic friendship has helped them be better people in the end.

Of course, all of the above is just a piece of the larger puzzle of the ways Kara, Lena, and the other Superfriends impact and influence one another. Each lesson they learn, each time they better understand one another -- it's all part of the growth ecosystem that slowly unfurls over time due to the nature of conversations, conflict resolution (or lack thereof), and overlapping goals.

What we do, say, and believe has an impact on those around us, and although the CW wasn't always particularly good at writing this impact (and keeping the growth consistent), that growth is still visible in the show itself. It takes a little digging to find it sometimes.

Anyway, thank you for asking! It got me thinking about the interwoven tapestry that is Lena, James, Kara, and the others and how they impact one another.

#Lena Luthor #James Olsen #The ways we impact and influence others #Lessons we learn #supergirl cw #Reverse Unpopular Opinion meme

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robbiedaymonds · 1 year

Text

okay i’m gonna put my two cents in with the ballad of songbirds and snakes.

i read the hunger games books (and watched the movies) for the first time in 2021 (i had seen the first movie before but that was it). so i was a fully ass grown adult when i first entered the series. i loved the books, i thought they were complex and the kind of last hurrah of mature YA books that i remember reading as a kid before YA became the YA it is today in the publishing world. i remember enjoying the movies as companions as well.

and i know a lot of people hated HATED the ballad of songbirds and snakes when it came out. those who grew up reading the books and watching the movies. but as an adult with no nostalgic attachment, i actually really, really, really loved it. i loved how the capital wasn’t The Capital yet. i loved reading how gruesome and awful the games were at the beginning and knowing what they turn into and how they get brought down to the ground burning. i absolutely went BONKERS over the (imo) SPOILERS way the lucy was using snow the whole time (simply put, it’s more complicated than that but i don’t wanna write an essay) and then disappeared after their “love” saved her life. like whew! i still remember the way my eyeballs were bugging out of my head when i got to that part and my own interpretation of what happened. it was kind of amazing! /SPOILERS

i was very unhappy with the first photos of the movie came out. the trailer made it look less squeaky clean and modern, HOWEVER, i’m sooo annoyed with how much makeup they put on lucy. why does she look like she walked out of a photoshoot? the only time katniss was ever in full makeup was for the interviews and introductions in the capital. and it worked just fine. lucy looking like she’s just walked out of a sephora is going to drive me absolutely CRAZY. but honestly that’s my only gripe with the trailer so far. i feel like it still looks a tad too polished and “staged” when it comes to setting, but i’m willing to give it a shot.

however i’m not sure if they’re going to capture the essence of the book well in movie format. it’s not a love story, it’s a survival and villain origin story.

we’ll see though.

#the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #i am looking forward to it but i'm cautious about it #thg series #text

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ddarker-dreams · 1 year

Note

PHEW. Okay. Same GAD + SAD anon back one last time (at least, one last time introducing myself like that, I am too lazy to keep that up forever. I need a more concise way to identify myself.)

Just as I thought, I fell for cringefail darling. She’s just…so me. I want to put her in my pocket and protect her from Chrollo.

I could write a whole essay about Idée Fixe if I had the time, but I won’t let the cringefail in me win like that today.

For now, I’ll just talk about how much I loved how you wrote the darling this time. Your descriptions of anxiety were spot-on—it really put everything I feel during moments of intense anxiety into words. And your way of addressing darling’s aversion to physical intimacy and the irrational anxiety despite knowing (or, well, thinking) she’s safe with him was absolutely perfect. I was able to really see myself in a darling for the first time—sincerely, thank you for writing cringefail darlimg with an amazingly accurate depiction of anxiety without eliminating the fact that she is still a capable human being…despite being the embodiment of cringefail.

And Chrollo…all the signs were there, and obviously I knew how things were going to turn out, but I still found myself wanting to believe that he had nothing but pure intentions. He’s just so…frustratingly genuine, even in his deception. The way you write him evokes this frustration from me every time without fail, in a good way! And then he just turns around and drugs dear cringefail darling to keep her anxiety in-check during what is likely one of the most anxiety-inducing moments of her life (and also probably to keep her from being able to function at 100%, but let me pretend he has nothing but good intentions). He’s such a genius—you’re such a genius—and I hate him so much for it.

I’ll stop myself here to save us both the time it would take to read/write any more of this, but these are only a fraction of my thoughts on the fic. Just know that all the time you put into writing Idée Fixe was well worth it, and just…thank you again for writing a reader I can see myself in so well 💖 Maybe I’m just cringefail anon at this point. Who knows.

we are forming the protect cringefail darling coalition™, one member at a time.

portraying anxiety in this fic felt different compared to other yandere stories, so i was hoping it'd come across decently. in my experience, even if you aren't feeling anxious, you're just Hyper Aware of everything. the slightest change in tone, body language, etc. you're just perpetually going 👁👁. i thought this would be a neat similarity to chrollo, who is also rather perceptive. he can finally get a taste of his own medicine. although, cringefail darling doesn't have malicious intent.

chrollo and deception... name a more iconic duo... he spices it up by sometimes being genuine, but even that is calculated with some sort of end goal in mind. revealing elements of his tragic past is an example of this . the man knew it'd tug majorly on cringefail darling's heartstrings. he kept out the more macabre details, yet included enough of the truth to really earn her sympathy.

him using the beta blockers. whew. he figured it'd be killing two birds with one stone. while he likes messing with cringefail darling some, he doesn't derive any satisfaction from her being in a major anxiety episode. how nice of him. so he gets to avoid that (at least for now) and have her in a better state to receive all the unfortunate information he's been tactfully omitting for months now. it's a win win.

thank you so much for sharing your thoughts!!! aaaaa there really is nothing i value more 💖 i feel the time i put into the fic was worth it too! it's got to be one of my favorite stories i've written so far. 😌

and if that's the moniker you want to go with, i'll start using that 👀👀

#sweet asks #answered #cringefail anon

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peregrination-studies · 1 year

Text

Feb 19, 2023

Today I

Worked on/submitted resiliency report (so many pages!!!!)

Worked on/submitted resiliency presentation/video submission

Worked on/submitted essay on integrating green architecture with sustainable technologies

Caught up on some reading!

Practiced French and Spanish

Took a deep breath

I did it! It is done!! I have been working on this resiliency report pretty much nonstop for the past three days, and I finally turned it in! Whew! I’m happy, ultimately, with how it came out, and I think that’s really what matters most about this experience. I’m still learning how to not let perfect be the enemy of good, and this project was good practice for me. (Photo left: bookshop!!! Left: touring around cities and admiring architecture and history.)

🎧 Listening to: Just A Man by EPIC Ensemble Jorge Rivera-Herrans

📖 Reading: Upgrade by Blake Crouch

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the-official-account · 1 year

Text

I HAVE BEEN INFORMED THERE'S A NEW EPISODE HERE'S 26 LIVEBLOG BABEEEEYYYY

my podcatcher is cool and great and open source and ad free and all that shit but I haven't set up my notifications good and because this is my first episode as they come out (my inner fanatic is all grown up) im not used to the schedule but HHHASD;LPIG AHIP'LSF AG THE WAY I SCREEEEEAMED AND ACTUALLY DANCED FOR JOY HERE WE GO!!!!!

oh opening music my beloved. Oh shit I got so obsessed with Blorbos I briefly forgot exactly where we are in the story. Coping mechanism (slash joking slash lighthearted) im 👀👀👀👀 very hyped bery concerned

"you need to be making eye contact to be frozen" means it's vry easy to free spar!!! ahhh so they somehow duplicated the pendants....or found more??

BACKUP THINGS 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 IM ON DESKTOP AND I CAN ONLY HAVE ONE EMOJI COPIED TO MY CLIPBOARD AT AT TIME ASJKDLHFASDFH

also the title of this episode is making me excited

Ila's stress about spar's condition is such a mood

THIS TELEKENISIS NECKLACE THING IS SO BANGER.

ooh. oof. this drive. CRIT?????? NICE FUCK. WHEW.

SUUCESSED THE FUCK OUTA THAT.

Voracity fucking sucks sorry about your lineage bestie i do hope you die though

SPAR BALANCED HALWAYD ON A CATWALK, FROZEN, SNUGGLED UP TO AN AWFUL AWFUL VAMPIRIC ASSHOLE UHHHH

......that joker.

OH I FORGOT VELLUM CAN TELEPORT FOR A SEC with the power of looking INCREDIBLY sexy. I like this plan I'm feeling good about this plan

Jordan's clearly plotting some shit and i am HERE for it

"normally you are not conscious during it" NORMALLY???

Spar depersonalization crash course. OH WAIT NO SPAR STEVEN UNIVERSE MOMENTS. IM OBSESSED????

viscious spar.....hmmm......im making a face it's not a great face LASDFALHFAHS

I love that spar's first thing is to just get the gist of what he's got going on <3 LJSADFLKJAHSDJFKHASD HE GOES TO VELLUM A;LKSDFLJSHDFLJSADGFLJSHADFKAHSDFKLASDF SCOOBY DOO ASS LOVE BIRDS

Oh shit is Vellum gonna think spar is fucking dead???? VORACITY GOES TOPPLING WHICH IS HILARIOUS BUT SPAR TOO??????? HOLY SHIT????? LMAO????

we are thirteen minutes in.

IF YOU DIE IN YOUR BODY YOU DIE IN REAL LIFE ALKSDJF;LAKSDJFASKLD;FJALSDFJ

Essay protesting Voracity's stats is such a mood. What if...what if ya jus didn???

As spooky as this whole situation is, the mental image of spar having royallllly biffed it is sending me

Okay when I was very young, I used to play chess with a younger sibling of mine. And I did this thing where I would just take one rook and systematically go around capturing all their pawns because they didn't know how to protect them, while just kinda giggling. And that's the energy ipswitch is bringing right now, tkaing out all their backup.

EIGHT FUCKING CARDS

AD;ISFLG;ALKDSGASLDFK RING TOSS SITIONATION wasn't jakub with ipswitch? or going to him? and yeahhhh lunevella is an important ally.

Diamond? friend? mmmmmmmmmmmmnahhhh

YEAH LUNAVELLA!!!! MASSIVE WITCH LADY COME IN CLUTCH!

nooo fuck PLEASE dont make it diamond please please please LUNEVELLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA lesbiamb...YEAS

I forget what beloved does but mechanical nonsense is my favorite

NO SUCESSES ONE JOKER there are not emojis on this computer that describe...you know that one image of the hot cook guy from Queer eye looking traumatized? that.

"I'm having fun being a useless ghost boy" VALID i am also having fun. sometimes in a ttrpg you just wanna be/add to the problem for a bit!!! And that's ok

Voracity being pissed about being launched off the catwalk is SO Funny.

"so I could accomplish my goal without violence" BITCH YOU THREATENED TO MURDER SEVREAL-----FJHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

NO NO NO VORACITY ISNT ALLOWED TO CRIT LEAVE VELLUM ALOOOOOOOONE!!!!!!!!!

oh shit but vellum's turn now.......kick them back off!!!!!! asjdhfakjsdhfasdkflakdhf

TAEKWONDO!! switching instantly for a drive does seem like a good balance I like that mechanic

god I love my gay rule-abiding detectives who for some reason keep trying to fight the ONE being that EVERY rule is like don't fucking fight for the love of god do not fight them for the LOVE OF

"I imagine that vellum gets a cat stance, which is like an L stance" i know there is more informaiton here but my brain has already shifted into the "someone i know is talking about something they love and i understand very little of what's happening here but I'm just excited to listen" mode. But no i do need to know what cat stance is because this is so art in my brain. ill look it up later.

im so *chinhands*

OOOOOH BUT THIS DESCRIPTION IS SO GOOD i CAN SEE IT IN MY BRAIN SO WELL OOOOHAS;DFHKLASEHFASKDFHA VELLUM IS SO COOL

there are no ascii emojis for doing a silly stupid little happy stim but that's what's happening

oh shit luna can fly!

Lune deserves to be condescending to her enemies, she's dealt with so much bullshit.

Ooof we have the AA and now the bramble guard with MOTORCYCLES????? ugh!!! organizations!!!!! Lore!!!!!!!! im swooning. there is nothing sexier in my mind that good worldbuilding

tatiana related plans but not htis episode 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀????

yeah lmao fuck diamond.

okay but in my brain Desdemona was suuuuuuper pretty. Oh no!!! Don't make her endearing!!!!!!!

(sweetly) "So uhhh, people of cindershore as you can see....we have the people of theee passion fruit festival held hostage <3"

THEY WANTED TO DO THIS NON VIOLENTLY god fuck i hate fucking misinformation goddamn.

"side with crystallis of againse you own wellbeing" bestie how is that fucking nonviolent?????

"get your gummy jello fingies in here" hello i am uncomfortablleeee AHSDL;FHASDFHADJSFLHAKDSFJH

TERRORIST TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES

I like to imagine that Kit's comments was ipswitch being genuinely helpful

oh god. there was a SPLIT second moment when my entirely world lit up with the GLEE that was Voracity biffing it off the catwalk again.

vellum pulls them...up? NOOO I MEAN THATS SMART BUT AHHHHH IM STAKING THE PROTAGONISTS LIKE A MIRACA (how the FUCK do you spell this im pretty sure i knew that) STOP PUTTING YOURSELF IN HARMS WAY AHHHHHHHHHH

i swear to GOD the host have an uncanny ability to say the joke i was thinking and I think we've just all got the same internet brain rot. my FIRST thought here was "None successes? left beef." and there we go. no funny left for the rest of us.

oooh what's jakub up to

WITCH TIME WITCH TIME WITCH TIME

"leave diamond where they are" you know, cause fuck em.

LUNA VELLA COMING IN FRIGGGGGING CLUTCH.

"Lunavella casts a spell that was taught to her by tara. Lunavella later taught it to jasper, who used it to talk to a god at a very crucial time"

the VOLUME at which i just sais "HUH?????" is IMMENSE.

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??? HELLP???? NO DONT MOVE ON HELLO??? HI! hIS I HAVE QUESTIONS?

Did jasper do the untethering???? Did jasper PERSONALLY speak to mommy magic???? Is that was Tara did to sacrifice her connection to magic for Merim & Josepha's freedom????? what...what does this mean....

SHE'S TALKING TO KRONOSAVA SHE CALLED THIS RELIC'S FUCKING PARENT. SHE SAID SHE'S GOING TO THE MANAGER. AJSHDFAJSHDFLKAJSHDF

An animatronic giant....HMMMMMM

okay but what is the triple threat if not just a small, minimalist mech suit?

"oh i do like information" "I know!!! Me to!!!" Oh my god they're suchhhh fucking nerds i fucking love them HASKLDJHFASDHFAKDJLFH GET ME TO A CLOSET.

AND JAKUB BLUSHES. AND OF COURSE IPSWITCH DOESN'T NOTICE CAUSE ITS IPSWITCH. THIS IS CUTE AS FUCK

I WANNA TRY TO POSSESS VORACITY Spar has been a ghost for like 2 minutes, and he was already like "When in rome!!!"

Kronosava manifests as a NINE FOOT TALL CLOCKWORK PERSON WITH MANY CLOCK FACES OF IMPOSSIBLE GEOMETRY????? COOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLL FUCKING RAD RAD RAD

Spar's ALONE with the TIME GOD al;jsdflkasdjfasdjlf

he did NOT just introduce himself....holllly shit lmaooo. "those who may be frozen by my eye are unworthy by my sight" oh so Spar is like. Time daddy's favorite blorbo. This makes sense to me. or maybe somewhat.

KRONOS SAY YALL KINDA SUCK SO I MADE YA DIE, CAUSE FUCK EM

Spar is NOT fucking out logicing this GOD im So here for this. fuck em up bestie FUCK EM UP!!!!!!

imagine your last name being considered by the GOD OF TIME now that's what I call clout.

"relative innocence" yeahhhhh. peace and lvoe on the planet earth, but emphasis on "on the planet earth"

Mayor lipton is the mayor of cindershore.

Okay I understanbd this scene im loving the vibes but MERIM FELSPAR THE SECOND IS NOOOOOTTTTT THE JUSTICE SYSTEM MR. TIME DADDY!!! He can't awnser for the crime and bigroties of Extra #8 and 13

YOU MAKE A GODDEX CHUCKLE that line will be living in my brain as something that can be so symbolism

I....I...I don't like this. wow i HATE how fast spar just traded off year of his fucking life span noooooo. fuck. fuck. fuckity fuck fuck fuck im in distress. ughhhhhh spar being spar.......I will have thoughts but first I need to sigh a lot ......Ugh.

but also fuck the gods im not vibing with this barter situation. is it good for the plot YES is deicide always an aspiration of mine also yes

"it feels like licking a battery with your hand' oooh mental sensory imaginings not good but very very cool

Like sourpatch kids watermelon flavor colorscheme.

*sadly, with hesitation* midtro dance midtro dance....

guhhhh spar....Spar why. Like I understand the choice but that was SO fast. HE DIDNT THINK ABOUT IT AND THAT'S WHAT I --UGHHHHHH

happy late birthday to essay!

ESSAY PLEASE STOP ASTRALLY PROJECTING PLACES ALSDFL;ASHFDLASHDFLKASF

Spar is a snacker and habituatally hands people snacks to keep them sustained.

God yall are just begging for me to write a communion (slash literary term related to chrstian, not christian practice itself. for as much as i say the words lord and god i like barely know who jesus is) fic....soon my toils will be over and my backlog will sing so my like the sirens lulling me away from an approaching storm, so instead my hyperfixation can crash violently upon the rocks and. it. will. be. GLORIOUS.

VELLUM WON A LEETLE KEETY <3<3<3

KIT CAME OUT SWINGING WITH THIS????? ....HUH????? BESTLJHAS;DIFHASDHFASJDFALKDSFKJASF. KIT SAID "IPSWITCH LOOKS AT SOME GAY SHIT END OF SENTENCE" IM DEAD. Im just imaginging Jakub looking at the performers, and at ipswitch, and at the performers, and in his head he's like "why does he look contemplative?"

Xbala, hilde, grey, anya play shoots and ladders at the safe house while knowing Spar, Vellum, ip, Jakub, and Luna are risking their lives fighitng voracity....that was me typing for speed but "Ip" as a nickname is really cute imo.

*much more enthusiatic end of midtro dance*

ILA I DON'T THINK THAT'S GOOD NEWS. DODGE IS ONE. AH. OH NO. HHHHH.

i made i sound like ID been bitten. Voracity. Rancid bestie, what if we like....didnt...

LIASDFASDJFASDF VELLUM'S BLOOD TASTES WIERD?????

*A deep sigh as I realize by having Beloved as a ultimate Vellum is, in fact, another self-sacrificial blorbo for the lot.*

Oh fuck he's so determined and valliant but i want him to STOP.

People should be reinvigorating and spar should be around soon??? im....spoooked. I know being unconcious isn't the end of the world though....

I think some of the gumw as given to Anya and may not have ever been returned? Which i only mention as a brief note for efforts and because these eps are recorded long ahead of time: i aint a snitch

spar to the recsue <3 <3 <3 king I'm imagining spar like Baseball-sliding in, swinging the sword like he's going to a home run, in slow motion. It's VERY cool.

SPAR IS AJUDSHLKJSAHGFKLJSADFGHAS THIS IS FO FUNNY I FUCKING LOVE THIS.

OHHHHH JUST ONE SHORT.

OH. OH SHIT. OH. PLEASE FLIP GOOD OH MY GOD. ID WOULD BE SCREAMING BUT IF I START SCREAMING i CAN'T HEAR.

AHHHHH;LFRGHA jumped so hard I pulled my chair up off the floor and keysmashed irrespocibly enough to put my compter to sleep. I'm SO normal.

The Animaation of this that exists in my brain through. Vellum gets bitten and Voracity reals back enough for you to see, between their faces, spar sprinting towards them reaching for his sword. The Camera whips to a side angle for spar's baseball swing. Slice! Spray of blood as vellum gets up a bit. Shot from below spar's chin to show his determined face and the long line of his arm and Bang! Bang! They all drop until his gun clicks empty. As there's a zoom in on the bat going for the window. One last bang and as Spar looks down the Camera does too, to show Vellym propped up on one arm holding His derringer high for a beat before his arms fall when he slumps in relief and he just smiles as ash rains down around them. Spar falls to his knees, and vellum slides over to kiss him...augh. AUGH!

Spar with a subtle scar over his hear that after 26 is raised and more obvious. For you know. Eventual shiftless art that WILL happen

Oh shit Jakub's getting a fucking promotion, huh?

LKJUAHSFGKJAHSKDFAHSDFKLASD IPSWITCH FINDS TERRORISM TAX FRAUD EVIDENCE I LOOOVE THAT FOR HIM OH MY GODDD <3.

Okay but Jakub being attracted to that is SO dorky and i love them and they're such sillyy guyssss. IPSWITH STARTLES.

"i have one more thing to end on!" [the episode has twnety minutes left]

Governor thorn middle ages. violet haired. carries a spear. CLEARLY need to pack her ass up and fuck off before she messes with Hilde, Anya, Grey and Xbala. I was only gonna mention my favoirites out of that grpup but not yeah they're all good. So throne need to like. go. I don't trust this.

"What's this about? how do you know where this is?" GOOD QUESTIONS.

FUCK. OFF. UNDER ARREST FOR WHAT. BITCH?

NO. NO. YOU DONT GET TO FUCKING END CREDITS MUSIC AFTER THAT FUCK YOU. FUCK OFF. WHAT. WHAT?

What.

i HEARD KEVIN AND I ACTUALLY GASPED. ITS MY FAVORITE CRINGEFAIL KING!!!!

CATBOY ASCE!!!!!!

OH WAIT im realizing....If SUITS has been abolished that Spar did retire after all, huh? Huh. Good for not having to report info about clovenheart. BAD news for whatever the fuck is happening to jack. Interesting news for Vellum's blood theirvery theories. And damn, I just sort of assumed Mayor Thorne was just like...Good Guy(TM) until....well until chapter 3 of tempest and teapots yesterday. God i love stories where things only get bigger. crunchy as hell.

THEY HAVE TO BOTH WEAR HIS CLOTHES STACKED ASJLDFALSDJFADF

I'm in love with Asce's himbo ass, he should NOT be enabling this and YET.

Iris has jury duty and then she's getting a massage and then she's going to therapy and then doing her therapy homework: considering new employment.

DOES CASEDYWM FUCKING STICK THEM IN HIS ACTUAL POCKET??????? OH NO.

ARE THEY JUST GONNA KEEP THE PIXIES IN HIS POCKET THE WHOLE TIME?

"I just need to know whose on top and whose...whose...whose the legs" Ah, when nature denies us our low hanging fruit

oh god I hope asce is left handed because otherwise Caedyn';s hand is occupied and Asce only has access to his non dominant hand

SDLFASDFAJSDFLASDF "I DONT KNOW HOW IT HELPS BIT I WANT IT"

"IS CADEWYN'S noSE PIECED" "IT IS NOW"

ASDKJFA;LSDJFASDF FUCK

added together they look like a great mintaur, yeah!! If someone shakes their head back and forth very fast

peer pressure confusion...sweet jesus.

JSADLFJALKDSFJAS just look abnormnal and blend in!!! This stratedgy would work in many of my social circles to be fair.

Not CALHOUN (just finished reading the 1619 project, that's the last name of the probably most cartoonishly evil & racist person in that entire book. Which, if anything, makes this mor funny for me

HE GIVES CADEWYN MORE ALCOHOL. NOOOO LMAOOOOOO

A BRILLIANT TACTICAL PLAY YOU'RE NOT HIGH LEVEL ENOUGH TO GET FULL DETAILS ON.

I was gonna make a joke about xbala getting arrested in the background but then it hit me: anya is a defense lawyer. A defense lawywer who already fucking hates Thorn. A defense lawyer who already hates thorn who has made up with spar and befriended Xbala and in all likelyhood has the support of the Harrington's behind her. She might. She might fuck it up. Take no prisoners, but like, the opposite way that's usually meant. still just as fuckign rad tho. my brain is turning. rotating like a microwave plate. mmmmmmmmm.

That scene was so funny though. cherry on top of a wonderful episode. i have...i have things to consider.

@threeheartscast @citrusandsalt @ilaalexei

#lush chats #quin chats #quin is sleepy now #three of hearts pod #three of hearts #edil liveblogs three of hearts

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