brain, honey, the plot generator? turn it OFF

[bedlamsbard]

Oh, shit, plot. For the thing I am not writing. Actually, said plot manages to combine both the things I'm not writing, with that character who is a hallucination.

It manages to be epic romance, epic tragedy, and two (or three?) different AUs AT ONCE.

Of course, I am not writing it. Because it does not exist. Because that character is a hallucination.

Comments

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

And how did we figure that out?

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

figure out what? the interesting contents of academic libraries? Why, kayloulee went looking for medieval sex manuals in quest of an answer to the Great Lubrication Question.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Oh my.

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

What can I say? Neither of us do *anything* without proper research...

(snort. One day I do intend to write pron with footnotes. Every action referenced to an appropriate online instruction page.)

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Ha, the only thing that's keeping me from writing Caspian/Peta post-battle is that I have to discover if her chainmail is in one piece or two, and unfortunately, I have not done any research to this subject yet.

(My porn research is, uh, reading fic. Unfortunately, I don't read a lot of het.)

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

one piece or two how? I mean, are you wondering about making mail for a woman, or are you wondering about mail *generally*? For the former, look for SCA instruction sites. For the later... hmm...

(and, as research, how reliable is slash written by *women*, anyway? That's what I call secondary sources- and without even references to follow up. Sigh.)

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

No, for some reason I was thinking a chainmail suit was, well, one-piece, but after Wikipedia-ing I realize it's two.

Although I probably could have just looked at reference pictures (http://www.weeklyreader.com/readandwriting/content/binary/peter1.gif) and answered my own damn question a lot quicker. *grumbles* Now we have to get Peta out of her armor, or at least the bottom half.

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

Yanno, I'd have thought the same thing. Medievalist!Fail, right here.

Well, everyone has to get out of their armour *eventuallly*...

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

I just don't remember why I thought so, because I read a lot of fantasy, and I know this sort of thing, damn it.

Peta's not interested in getting out of all of it; she's just interested in, uh, getting Caspian into her.

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

Surely after a battle she'd want to get out of her mail? That shit's *heavy*. Unless she has a bit of a kink that way?

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Well, we are talking about a version of Peter here, so who knows...although in this particular case, I don't think she has the patience.

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

I still reckon the *first* thing you do when you come off the battlefield is get out of your armour. You do that even before you start drinking...

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

But if Peta isn't wearing her armor, then Caspian isn't doesn't get to see her on her knees in full armor, still stained with blood and worse things, with her lips wrapped around his cock!

...I can't believe I just typed that.

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

well that IS a fair point.

Let's say she has a kink in that direction, or she started drinking too soon, or she just hasn't found anyone to help her take her armour off. (After all, back in the day she would've had a page when she didn't have a willing gentleman to hand.)

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Also, right after the battle.

Peta catches the front of his mail in her armored fist and drags him toward her, mouth crushing against his in what's only a kiss in a very loose definition of the word. "I want your hands on me," she says breathlessly. "Now."

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

ok. here's the point where i have to stop reading this because i'm at work :P

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

which is not to say you shouldn't keep writing while i'm engaged in gainful employment...

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

*salutes* I shall do my best while you go off to do this strange thing called "making money."


"Not here," Caspian says, because gods above, they're still in the middle of a battlefield, with the dead and wounded all around him.

"Yes, goddamnit," Peta says, and kisses him again while her left hand, the one that's only gloved and not gauntleted, scrabbles at the front of his pants.

Caspian's instantly, painfullly hard, but he manages to push Peta away and insist again, "Not here," because the only thing he can think of that's less arousing than a battlefield is a graveyard.

Peta doesn't waste time arguing, just tightens her grip on the front of his hauberk and drags him off to the side of the How, which at least has the benefit of not facing the battlefield and everyone on it, including Peta's sisters and brother. "I need you inside me now," she orders, letting go of Caspian to wrestle her chausses down.

Caspian uses his teeth to get his gloves off; he can't get his breeches down without bare hands. When he finally pushes into Peta, she's hot and wet around him, tight with need. He's shocked at the stab of pure desire that washes through him. It almost transcends anything sexual; what he wants is this, to be buried to the hilt in this woman, both of them armored and armed, his uncle's blood still wet on her mail.

"What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?" Peta demands. "Fucking move, you Telmarine bastard."

He pulls almost out, then pushes in again, shoving her back against the wall as he slams into her. They're both so close to orgasm already that it takes only a few minutes until Caspian explodes inside her, Peta following a heartbeat later with an unearthly scream that makes it sound like she's being murdered. Caspian puts his face against her armored shoulder, breathing heavily, but Peta shoves him away and turns him around, backing him against the wall as she kisses him once, hard and fast and messy, her teeth clicking against his, then drops to her knees and takes his now-soft cock into her mouth, her gauntleted and gloved hands bracing her on his hips.

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

yanno, unless the whole army know the difference between Peta's sex-screams and any other scream by now, they're going to have people coming around the corner any minute now. Screaming on a battlefield= bad idea.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

"Peta," Caspian moans, hands coming up to touch her hair, red and sticky with blood. He doesn't think any of it is hers. "Someone will --"

"No, they won't," Peta says, breath warm on his cock. "They've been placing bets, don't you know?"

"I can't," Caspian says firmly, but Peta's mouth is on him again, and impossibly, he feels himself hardening. "Peta," he says. "Peta. Gods."

She pulls off far enough to say, "Scream for me," and then she takes him into her mouth again and Caspian comes with a strangled shout, his hands tightening in her hair.

He blacks out for a minute or so; when he opens his eyes again, pleasantly dreamy, it's to find Peta back in her mail, kissing him lazily with his head resting in her lap. "Now your Telmarines will think you've conquered the Narnian barbarian," she says, practically purring as Caspian gets himself back into his breeches.

"Oh, gods," Caspian says, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks, because Peta is loud and they're in public. King Edmund will kill him.

"Think of it as a benefit," Peta advises, kissing him again, and there's nothing Caspian can do but kiss her back. It's not unpleasant, after all, even though he thinks he has more bruises from the combination of his and Peta's mail than he does from the actual battle.

[realpestilence.livejournal.com]

This is the kind of question the answer to which you do not want to know!


Sorry, I just HAD to fix that type. That's what I get for typing in the dark, fresh from a nap. *is cranky*

[realpestilence.livejournal.com]

And you'll notice I *still* made a typo, in the edit. DAMN IT!