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slytherinspired · 3 years

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Firsts - A Sirius Black Imagine

Pairings : Young Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings : smut, obviously, unprotected sex, swearing, smoking, alcohol and mild drug use.

Hi love! I did it! Beware, it is quite long, I sort of took the liberty to provide some context, but I hope you'll like it! :)

Masterlist

Sirius is looking back at himself in the mirror, wincing at his reflection. He recognizes his traits sparingly; his dark curls falling to his shoulders, his mocking smirk, his overall nonchalant expression. He knows who he is, but the clothes on his back are completely robbing him of his own identity. He glances bitterly at his beloved leather coat sitting on the back of his desk chair and sighs. The ridiculous black suit he’s wearing barely fits him. He knows it probably used to belong to one of his distant cousins and that it has been quickly and grossly recut to fit him by the house-elf. His parents are downstairs in the drawing room, waiting for him to join them so they can leave for this stupid reception.

He doesn’t even know what it is about, except that he’s going to this apparent important new Ministry guy’s house who threw a sort of lame introduction party, since he just arrived in London with his family. And what he knows is that he’s going to spend the whole night with the type of people he doesn’t want to be assimilated with. From what he heard, the host of the reception just arrived at the Ministry of Magic to help with the passing of some bill for Muggleborn regulations, as awful as it sounds. He’d like to avoid to go, but Walburga has the upper hand on him, and nothing in the world would convince his dear mother to leave her eldest son behind, knowing full well that if she does so, Sirius is going to get the fuck out of there and join these Muggles mingling Potters fools.

‘You look dapper,’ says a soft voice behind him.

Standing in the doorway, Sirius’ youngest brother observes him, grinning.

‘Shut up,’ he replies, annoyed by the stupid smile on Regulus’ face.

His brother crosses his arms and steps into his bedroom. He looks around like he just stepped into some kind of freak show. His gaze rests a little longer on a certain poster. Sirius glances at the Muggle woman dressed in a revealing red swimsuit standing straight in the middle of the picture. He smirks, and caught-red handed, Regulus turns away quickly. She always was his brother's favourite, after all. Whether he wants to admit it or not.

‘Are you going to behave this time?’ he asks, stepping in front of his eldest brother.

Sirius shrugs, trying to adjust the bowtie strangling him. For Merlin’s sake, he thinks, it feels like he’s suffocating already.

‘I always behave, brother dear,’ he replies, trying to undo the knot around his neck. ‘I just don’t behave the way they’d like me to,' referring to their parents.

Regulus shakes his head and starts fiddling with his brother’s bowtie and adjust it perfectly in one fell swoop, as if it were child’s play. Once the knot is properly buckled, he taps Sirius’ chest in an encouraging gesture, and frowns when he feels something hard hidden in the inside pocket of his brother’s vest.

‘Really?’ he asks.

Sirius snorts.

‘Just a bit of courage,’ he admits.

‘And how much courage did you drink already?’

‘Not enough, apparently,’ Sirius replies, thinking about the full flask of warm whiskey tucked inside his suit.

He’d honestly rather be stuck in detention with Snivellus for the rest of his existence then go to this lame-ass party. That alone justifies the whiskey amply.

After a few detours in the city, he finds himself in front of an imposing white manor situated in one of London’s richest Square. Oh, this is going to be a long night, he thinks. Not only it seems like the host is wizard-rich, but he’s also everything rich, period. He rolls his eyes, there’s no issue. Walburga is pressing her long and emaciated fingers into his son’s arm as they step into the great hall of the house. The interior is as posh as the exterior, with its grand marble staircase curving up to the upper floor and its giant diamond-like chandelier hanging over their heads. For God’s sake, is it a live classical assemble he hears playing in the back? As his mother pushes him further inside, the sound of light chatter reaches his ears. He sees his father, dressed in his horrible robes, already on his way to speak with some old acquaintances, quickly followed by Regulus. He scans the principal room for a quiet corner, but it’s filled with this bunch of pricks, and he’s fighting with all his might the panic that is taking over his mind. He finally spots a free corner next to a big window and he walks straight ahead in that direction, hoping no one will recognize him on the way.

‘I heard his son has found some work as a doctor,’ he hears a shrill voice say.

‘A Muggle doctor? How peculiar!’ says another voice.

This is exactly the kind of chatter Sirius doesn’t want to hear. In no way he thinks he’s superior because he was graced with magic powers at birth. It is so suffocating, and he feels so incredibly small and inadequate, drowning in this sea of close-minded guests.

He studies them, recognizes some familiar faces from Hogwarts, but most of them are Slytherins and are not close at all to use them as an escape. A waiter walks in front of him, holding a tray where champagne flutes fill themselves up. He grabs one and drink it in one sip. He’s already quite tipsy, but he doesn’t care. He’d rather be intoxicated right now to bury this hatred deep within. God, he needs air.

He sees Walburga looking for him in the room, and she’s walking next to a tall and handsome man. For Godric’s sake, why is she walking straight in his direction? The man next to her doesn’t look as old as his mother, but the grey strands in his black hair betrays his age. He looks posh, and haughty.

‘This is my eldest son, Sirius,’ says his mother in a toneless voice. ‘Sirius, this his our host, Mr Santorini.’

‘Pleased to meet your, Mr Black,’ says the man while he extends his hand.

Sirius gets up on his feet, subtly struggling to find his balance, under the duo’s concerned stare. He rapidly and weakly shakes the man’s hand and nods. Ashamed, Walburga shoots darts at her son and quickly turns away from him.

‘My youngest, Regulus, is doing quite well at Hogwarts, see, he’s - ...’ her voice fades away.

Sirius closes his eyes; he needs to find some distraction. And what could be better than the little thing he has brought to the party that is currently hidden in his pocket behind the whiskey flask? He needs to feel something else than the dreadful thoughts he has right now. He struts to the giant marble staircase and finds his way on the upper level without attracting attention to him. That is one advantage when no one cares about you; not being seen. The voices downstairs are slowly fading away and he feels already so much better.

He runs a nervous hand in his dark locks, feeling quite hot, with this bowtie strangling him. There must be a door leading outside. He tries to open the first one on his right, but the handle doesn’t bulge; it’s locked. And Walburga has confiscated his wand at the beginning of the summer upon his return from Hogwarts, so there’s no use. He sighs and adventures further away in the hall.

He has more luck with the second door, and finds himself into a deserted bedroom. His eyes make out the giant bed over the central wall of the room, and spots some sealed boxes on the floor. The translucent curtains discreetly veil the large windows in front of him, and he opens one widely and lights himself a cigarette without a care, pacing into the room nervously. He sees some pictures resting on a vintage dresser on the opposite wall. There are rows of books in the built-in bookcases, and even some disperse vinyls taking up some of the space. He’s clearly trespassing someone’s intimacy, but whose? Sirius walks to the dresser and opens up the first drawer. A tickling feeling in his stomach at the sight of the several underwear – even in the darkness – makes him wonder how long has it been since he’s been intimate with someone. The last time was before school ended, with Mallory, and it was just snogging. He never went all the way... He chuckles discreetly at the thought and taps the ashes of his cigarette on the floor. Fuck this house, fuck this bedroom, and fuck this posh Pureblood family.

‘Mm, mm.’

Someone has cleared their throat behind him. He jumps, and tries to hide the cigarette away.

‘Please, don’t stop for me,’ says a girl in the doorway.

He can’t make up her traits in the darkness, but she sounds young. She steps right in front of him.

‘I don’t think you should be up here,’ she says.

He feels like a child, caught red-handed. He feels suddenly very trapped.

‘I heard the owner of this house is quite severe,’ she adds, taking the cigarette away from him, inhaling the smoke into her lungs, and exhaling. ‘If he found us in his daughter’s room, I think he’d torture us without any remorse.’

‘His daughter’s room?’ he replies nervously.

She nods, giving him back his cigarette.

‘A real pest.’

There is an awkward silence.

‘What were you doing here?’ she adds.

‘Looking for a way out,’ he replies in all honesty. ‘What about you?’

‘Just about the same.’ She glances at the cigarette. ‘You might want to put it out now.’

‘I really don’t,’ he replies, taking one last whiff, ‘but when do I get what I want anyway?’

He throws it on the hard-wood floor indifferently and follows the stranger in the hallway. She turns around to take a good look at him.

‘I’m Y/N, by the way – ‘

He feels like his legs are going to flinch. He doesn’t know if it’s the sudden nicotine rush, or the champagne mixed with the whiskey, or the lights in the hallway shinning over Y/N’s green doe eyes staring at him, or her long black hair waving on her back, or her delicious pink lips, or the gentle freckles on her nose, but he’s suddenly feeling quite light-headed.

‘You okay there?’ she laughs. ‘What’s your name?’

He shakes his head, trying to regain his thoughts.

‘I’m, er. I’m Si – ‘should he really tell her his real name? ‘I’m Sid.’

‘Sid,’ she repeats. ‘Well, Sid, you don’t look too good.’

‘I don’t feel too good,’ he admits.

Her expression changes. She’s not amused anymore. She’s pitying him.

‘Follow me,’ she says, grabbing his hand like she has known him forever, dragging him to the end of the wall where they cross a door and end up on a small balcony overlooking the deserted garden.

‘How to you know this place?’ he asks, resting his arms on the guardrail, humming the fresh crisp air.

‘Hung out with the pest earlier,’ she replies.

‘Not anymore?’

‘Told you, she’s a pest. I can’t leave, though. I’m sort of stuck here.’

‘So am I.’

She laughs lightly. The moonlight shines on her beautiful face, and her traits are so soft, and if he was much more like himself, he’d try to charm her the way he knows how.

‘So, Sid. What are we avoiding?’ she asks away.

‘My parents, I guess,’ he replies, taking out the flask of whiskey of his pocket.

He takes a big sip and hands it to her. She considers it for a moment and grabs it. The wind flies through her hair, and her perfume reaches his nostrils, a perfectly well-balanced mix of vanilla and gentle notes of citrus. The fragrance shoots up his nose and wafts around his brain. Fuck, she’s so beautiful.

‘What about them?’ she asks away, wincing when she swallows the liquor.

He snorts. He doesn’t want to talk about his parents right now. Not when the prettiest girl he’s ever seen is standing right in front of him. He has something else on his mind now.

‘Your accent,’ he says, switching subjects. ‘It’s not from here.’

Y/N nods.

‘I grew up all over the place, but mostly America.’

‘You don’t sound American.’

She smiles, revealing a straight row of perfectly pearly white teeth.

‘My family, we’re from Sicily.’

He nods.

‘It’s in Italy – ‘

‘I know where Sicily is, I’m not stupid,’ he replies harshly, a bit offended.

But Y/N chuckles lightly, and her soft laugh brings his attitude down. He can’t help but stare at her. She’s a bit overdressed to his taste, but hey, so is he. He wonders what is hiding underneath that navy dress of hers, and if her skin is as soft as he imagines it is. He needs to calm down.

‘First time in London, then?’

She nods.

‘What do you think?’ he asks, locking eyes with her.

She licks her lower lip without realizing it.

‘Well, I don’t hate the accent,’ she teases.

Praised be Godric.

‘Tell me, Sid, you seem to be about my age, yet you’re drunk like an old man with a drinking problem, and you probably smoke like a city boy. I keep wondering if I really should be alone with you right now.’

‘Are you afraid?’ he asks.

She shakes her head.

‘Rarely.’

‘To be honest, Y/N,’ he says, pronouncing every syllable of her name like he could actually taste it, ‘I was alone up there to find a quiet spot for this.’

He shows up the joint between his fingers. She squints for a short moment and smiles.

‘I see.’

Y/N’s eyes bored into him. He wonders if he has crossed a line. He barely knows her, after all.

‘Let’s go somewhere more private, then,’ she suggests, grabbing his hand. He doesn’t even have the time to appreciate the softness of her skin when he feels himself disapparating, his body swirling in every direction, and a sudden urge of panic takes hold off him. When he reapparates in a loud pop, he shouts:

‘What the hell are you doing? Are you bloody insane?’

‘What, did you never apparate before?’

‘Yes, I did but -,’ he is freaking out, Walburga must think he’s left and is probably fulminating. ‘My mother, she’s going to hex me! Bring us back!’

‘Why?’ Eliana asks, intrigued. ‘How would she know?’

Sirius shakes his head nervously.

‘She placed some sort of charm on me, I’m not allowed to leave her sight. If she knows I left the premises, she’ll find me and – ‘

He stops himself from saying too much. Perhaps it would be a bit intense to share with the girl what would Walburga do to him. At least, he wouldn’t have to explain the healing bruises on his ribcage.

‘Relax, Sid. We’re still on the premises.’

He looks around and spots the house in the distance through a small window. Are they in some sort of guest house? A garden shed? There is nothing around him, he’s just standing on a mat. Relieved, he sits down, running a hand in his hair. Y/N joins him and creates a small fire by flicking her wand, enough to dimly light the room they are in.

‘You’re actually scared of your parents. Why?’

Sirius chuckles. He’s not scared, he’s terrified of them. She points out the little stick he forgot he was holding between his fingers.

‘Shall we?’ she suggests.

‘Who says I want to share?’

She pouts adorably. He lights it up and he takes a good breath of the substance and exhales slowly, indulging the heavy smoke, his lungs burning, and a light sensation rushes to his head. Them Muggles can also do magic, he thinks to himself. Under her curious eyes, he passes the stick in her delicate hands, and observes her. Her delicious lips reach it, and she slowly breathes it in. She starts coughing, tears running to her eyes.

‘Wait,’ he laughs, ‘is this your first time?’

She presses her hand to her rounded chest, laughing uncontrollably. Sirius shakes his head, following her laugh, and explains to her how to actually get the smoke to her lungs.

‘There, yes – keep it still a second, let it -, yes, good,’ it’s like teaching children how to mount a broom, ‘and exhale. Brilliant.’

He waits a second before taking another whiff. Y/N’s mouth curves into a smile and she closes her eyes slowly.

‘Oh,’ she exhales, ‘this is – ‘

‘I know,’ replies Sirius, smiling. ‘I know.’

‘Oh,’ she repeats.

He stares at her, admiring her delicate features. Her eyes are still closed and he sees her falling on her back, completely relaxed. If his mother saw him right now, smoking pot with a random girl he met at this rich guy’s party, she’d have a good reason to use the Cruciatus curse on him for once. Or she’d cut his head before he could say he’s sorry. He decides to join Y/N and rests his back on the floor. He lays his head just beside hers and fixes the ceiling. He feels better now, and it’s not just the drugs.

‘I feel so heavy,’ she says, sliding her hands on her naked arms.

She turns her head and looks at him.

‘Do you feel heavy?’

‘Kind of,’ he laughs.

He doesn’t particularly feel heavy. In fact, he feels relieved, and mostly, he feels horny. Good god.

‘What is there to do in London at night?’ she asks.

‘Mm,’ he hesitates. ‘Pubs, clubs, walking around Southbank, I guess.’

‘Never went to a pub,’ she admits.

He wants to run his finger on her cheek. He wants to grab her face and press his lips on hers.

‘You’re kidding,’ he replies, still fixing that beautiful mouth of hers.

She shakes her head lightly, and a stroke of her long hair falls in her eyes. Her little red stained eyes. He smiles at the view, and slowly leans closer, replacing the stroke of black hair behind her ear.

‘I’ll bring you to a pub, one day,’ he mutters, daydreaming out loud.

‘Wouldn’t you mother kill you if you did?’ she jokes.

‘She would. It would be worth the risk, though.’

She turns on her stomach and rests her head on her hands. He keeps staring at her, detailing everything.

‘What are you looking at?’ she chuckles.

‘Just admiring the view,’ he replies frankly.

She would blush if she wasn’t all flustered already. There’s an odd adrenaline spluttering inside of him as he feels her close, and his pulse quickens and he’s feeling so hot right now, he’s melting into the rug. There’s a comfortable silence between them, and they both enjoy it for a couple of minutes. There is something about this girl, this nonchalant attitude, and her mesmerizing eyes, and her accent, and the way her body moves when she finally sits down again, pulling her dress over her thighs to sit comfortably, making him lose his fucking mind. If he weren’t so distracted by her presence, he’d be sweet talking to her, like he’s so used to do with other girls. But he’s simply incapable of doing so, like she’s robbed him of his means.

‘We should go back, they’re going to be looking for us,’ she whispers, showing him her hand to help him sit back.

But he doesn’t want to go back and mingle with the people he hates. He wants to be alone with her, if it is just to stay motionless on this rug in her company. He takes her hand and sits back up, and their eyes lock again, and they stare at each other, and he’s wondering if he’s hallucinating someone so perfect to help him cope with this emptiness he feels all the time. She absentmindedly licks her lips, taunting him, and he has to remind himself how to breathe, as his lips quirk hesitantly, sighing out loud to stop himself from pining her underneath him.

‘Yeah,’ he stutters, like a fucking coward, and then he clears his throat and steadies his pulse and sternly instructs himself to get it together, dude. James would be laughing at him if he saw him right now.

But they both stay there, motionless. He can feel the drugs running away from his bloodstream, he’s on another high now, another rush, and it has nothing to do with it. He can’t stop staring at her lips. Her expression washes over him in waves, and he pins a hesitant smile on his face, hoping it will distract her from the bulge growing down there.

‘Or we could just, you know, stay here for a while,’ she suggests.

For fuck’s sake.

He’s only able to gulp and nod, his cock painfully growing thick through the fabric. He tries to hide the bump by placing his arm over his legs, but instead it catches her attention down there, and her eyes quickly spots it, but she innocently acts like she’s unaware of the effect she has on him. If he could only smack his lips on hers.

Her emerald eyes are wide open, she leans in and presses her soft lips on his, and he’s never felt so relieved in his entire life, her mouth is warm and soft, and he can actually run his hands in her soft hair, and he can hear his heart hammering in his ears, and she actually lets out a discreet moan in his mouth, and fuck, there he is, gone, he knows there is no way back from there.

He feels her hands slowly unbuckling his belt and removing those atrocious trousers, and he follows through, pulling up her dress to reveal her skin. He removes his shirt, he has dreamt all night to rip it off his body from the second he put it on, and now she’s pushing him on his back on the hard rug and places kisses in the crook of his neck, sliding her tongue all the way down, and he knows where she’s heading, but he can’t let her do that, or he’s going to cum already. He grabs her head softly, and while he’s busy sticking his tongue into her mouth, he’s unclasps her top, tosses it on the floor, and starts licking her round breasts, circling her hard nipples with his tongue. He realizes it is actually the first time he’s allowed to touch naked breasts, and Merlin, this is so much better when there’s no fabric covering them.

He pins her small body under him, and he slowly moves down on her. He admires her ribcage moving up and down, and he can hears her heavy breathing, and he feels like he can’t hold it anymore. He runs his lips on her skin, down her stomach, to the birth of her underwear, pulling them down very gently. Sirius can’t believe he just met her a couple of hours ago; he feels like he has been desiring her for an eternity. There was a before her, and there’s now – and all the shit he’s been dealing with since school ended is now tucked away in the back of his mind. He caresses with his lips the soft bump between her legs, indulging the new sensation, and then just takes a mouthful of her sex. Her breathing stops, her ribcage is suspended for a second, and then she breathes out and grabs the back of his head while he tastes her. It’s sweet, and warm, and wet, and salty at the same time, and it’s so fucking good.

She’s squirming and writhing beneath him, her subtle moans amplifying. The gasps she makes sends sparks of unbearable pleasure through him, and he feels dizzy, like his heart is about to explode, ready to jump out of his chest at any moment. He slides one finger into her, and then another, and she spams around his fingers. He observes her perfect body tensing at his touch, cupping one breast with one hand while she orgasms into his mouth, her fluids mixing with his saliva. Her face is flushed and her pupils are dilated, and he could very well be on this high for the rest of his existence. But she places kisses on his lips, tasting herself on him, and his cock is so hard, he can’t help but groan when he feels her hand grabs his sex through the fabric of his underwear, slowly stroking him. It is pure torture.

He feels the small piece of clothing covering him sliding down his legs, and he kicks it on the floor. She stares at him in the eyes and licks her fingers, then moves her hand down there again, gently applying pressure on his hard-on. Sirius’ head tilt to the back, blood rushes through him. That is a different story when it’s someone’s else hand, isn’t?

She lays down in front of him, and he follows her as she guides is cock at the entrance of her sex, and it’s so wet, how is he going to pull through? He’s shaking with apprehension but pure pleasure. She suddenly frowns.

‘Wait,’ she hesitates, ‘is this your first time?’

He nods. There’s so point in lying.

‘Do you want to stop?’

Of course, he doesn’t want to stop. He shakes his head, and her face lits up.

They kiss and he presses the tip of his cock into her, slowly, to get every sensation right, and he closes his eyes and, oh this feels so fucking good, and he can’t help but exhales of relief when he feels the warmth, and he hears her gasping underneath him. He’s sinking into her, and she pushes his length even farther by raising her hips. Why does it feel so good? He starts to pace inside her, like he has known what to do forever, increasing the tempo, and she moans under him. He moves swiftly now, trying with all his might to not just release himself off the pressure. She throws her head back into the rug, he feels sweat pearling at the birth of his forehead, his locks fall into his eyes, and he accelerates his pace and presses her legs on her stomach, and oh my god, this is even better.

She presses her right hand on his chest, running her fingers over his hard stomach, avoiding the bruises, detailing each parcel of his body. She looks back up and pushes her lips on his, and their tongues meet, and he’s completely melting into her. She finally bucks her hips tightly and Sirius hisses, he can’t hold up anymore. Oh, he wants to hear her say his name – if only he had given his real one – but she lets a loud ‘fuck’ escape her mouth, and she’s damp with sweat, and he never seen something so beautiful, he slams into her harder and faster, he groans while his grip tightens around her delicate waist. He feels almost he’s in pain and something stronger than life itself is burning him; yes, he’s burning up down there, he can’t hold it anymore, his whole body is on fire, he glances at her one last time, and he lets out a guttural growl, while feeling his insides pushing his soul out, and for a short moment, he thinks he’s dying, spilling his warm seed into her, filling her up while’s he petrified, hanging between dream and reality, thinking his heart stopped beating.

It is only half an hour later that he comes back to the manor, flustered and feeling out of his body, followed by Y/N. She’s even prettier under the warm lights, blushed cheeks, and he relives in his mind what just happened over and over again. That wasn’t bad for a first time, he thinks.

‘Y/N! Papà has been looking for you forever, where were you?’, a young girl is staring at her.

She shares similar traits with Y/N, but she looks younger, about Regulus’ age. Her arms are crossed, and she observes Sirius oddly, in a manner that makes him believe she can easily guess what Y/N was doing all the time they’ve been away.

‘Where is he?’ asks Y/N.

The young girl points at the host, the man he shook hands with earlier, speaking with Sirius’ father and a couple of older men in the corner of the room.

‘Clara,’ mumbles Y/N with a threatening expression. ‘non dire niente a Papà.’

The young girl rolls her eyes and leaves them. Sirius frowns. Wait a minute, is this girl...

‘Didn’t you tell me the host’s daughter was -’ he mumbles, feeling his hands becoming moist.

‘A pest,’ she smiles. ‘My sister.’

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

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MC is Half Demon and Blah Blah Blah-

Time for the Group Retreat!

Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Lessons 5-6 Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

I’m quite hyped for this one, ladies, gents, and esteemed readers! For simplicity’s sake, since this is before M!MC and A!MC arrive, L!MC will go back to being referred to as just MC. Enjoy the Headcanons!

Since the previous Underground Tomb incident ended much less violently, Lucifer is now more worried than angry about MC’s rampant shennaniganery.

Like... his kid was poking holes in his totally foolproof “Your cow-uncle went to live on a farm in the human world” story. What if MC somehow got into the attic and got hurt?!

It didn’t help that they were still in this weird phase of their father/child relationship. On one hand, Lucifer obviously cares for his kid, and his kid likes him... but it’s also only been less than three months and we all know how emotionally constipated Lucifer is.

MC’s also getting REAL sus of all the secrets their dear old dad is keeping... doesn’t help that they STILL haven’t went up into the attic.

Anyhoo~ the announcement for the retreat was a barrel of laughs.

“I’m proposing, a group retreat!”

Everyone met Diavolo’s announcement with the exact same confused reaction. It’s like the entire assembly hall was doing the ‘Guy Blinking’ meme.

“A... group retreat?” Lucifer repeated slowly. “For what reason exactly, Lord Diavolo?”

The Crown Prince was giddy with excitement as he explained. “MC told me about their middle school overnight trip and it sounded like it would be quite fun!”

Simeon, Luke, MC, and Solomon were all seated next to each other in the ‘exchange student seats of less importance’. Luke leaned over and whispered a question to MC.

“Why are you so friendly with the crown prince?”

MC smirked and shrugged. “Lucifer had the Demon-Flu and couldn’t go meet with Lord Diavolo last week so I went for him. Lord Diavolo’s surprisingly bad at Connect Four but has really good luck in Snakes and Ladders.”

Luke’s jaw dropped in complete and utter shock and horror.

“We’re playing CandyLand and the Game of Life next time, want to come?” MC added.

“Play CandyLand... with him..?” Luke looked at Diavolo, who was still explaining his plan for the retreat, then looked back at MC. “I’ll only go to shield you from his corrupting influence.”

“Yeah... Corrupting...” MC had to hold back a laugh at the thought of Diavolo, who during MC’s visit lit up like a Christmas tree upon being called ‘Dia’ and believed that Mood Rings were the greatest human invention ever, being a corrupting influence.

“MC! Torture dungeon or no!?” MC was snapped out of their conversation by Mammon shouting at them from his seat.

“What?”

“Do ya think there’s a torture dungeon under the castle, or not?”

“I’m not sure,” MC turned to Diavolo. “Lord Diavolo, is there a torture dungeon under the Demon Lord’s Castle?”

There is in fact, no torture dungeon. Presumably...

Everyone packed up and headed out to the Demon Lord’s Castle!

The fabulous seven all broke several speed limits and traffic laws in order to be there early. Listen, they had to get there before Purgatory Hall, it was a matter of pride.

Besides, what’s the Royal guard going to do? Arrest six of the seven rulers of hell and a kid? Ha. No. Not when Diavolo controls their paychecks.

The rooming situation remained the same, Asmo, Simeon, and MC were roomed together, and MC got to watch Asmo get psychologically profiled by Simeon. It was truly a sight to behold.

MC was nice enough to assure Asmo that they really liked him and thought he was very sweet.

Asmo, not used to being complimented on his personality, almost started openly weeping.

So, the tour of the Demon Lord’s Castle began! Asmo got yelled at by his ex in the painting and the usual batch of idiots got sucked into the catacombs under the castle.

Lucifer wasn’t terribly sure how or if he should express his concern for MC being stuck in the labyrinth.

All these new fatherly feelings of worry are very very odd. He didn’t worry this much for Satan, mainly because Satan was usually the threat.

Even as a baby...

Lucifer found himself checking his DDD every few minutes to see if MC had texted or called from wherever the painting dragged them to, never mind that if they did text he’d hear the phone ding.

“Lucifer, don’t worry too much,” Diavolo patted Lucifer on the shoulder, a bright smile on his face. “Your brothers and MC will be perfectly fine! There’s nothing too dangerous in the catacombs that they wouldn’t be able to take care of.”

Resigning himself to the fact that MC was under the care of his last choices for babysitting, Lucifer put away his DDD. “I know they’ll be fine, but I’m not overly pleased with the situation.” He shot a glare at Helene in the portrait, who rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“Lucifer worrying about someone, I’m truly, genuinely shocked.” Hearing Satan’s attempt at goading him, Lucifer, flawless demon that he is, resisted the urge to throw his DDD at his brother.

“Quiet, Satan.”

————

“WHY THE FUCK IS A SNAKE DOWN HERE?!”

“ITS HENRY 1.0!”

“YEAH THAT REALLY CLEARS STUFF UP, LEVI!”

MC and Levi continued their screaming match as the group ran for dear life from a giant snake.

Yeah... nothing the brothers couldn’t handle... sure, Lord Diavolo...

They made it out of the scary catacombs... don’t worry.

Lucifer did that parent-thing where he cleaned the catacomb dust off MC’s face with a napkin.

Yay! Parenting!

Failed pillow fight attempt #1 happened that evening. Because Mammon was obsessed with being the fun-uncle and saw his brothers encroaching on his place as favourite uncle.

MC doesn’t know how to break it to him that he’ll probably always be the favourite uncle and he doesn’t have to be such a dumbass to keep his spot.

Scavenger hunt went on as canon dictates.

Asmo had his diva tantrum and stormed off, but MC also wanted to win so they didn’t go after him.

Clearly expecting someone to go beg him to come back, Asmo was very annoyed when no one went after him.

“Um, helloooo? Anyone going to comfort me~?”

“Nope.”

“Well I don’t want your comfort anyway, SOLOMON.”

It was very close, L!MC insisted their loss came from sabotage. No evidence was found but just LOOK at Satan’s face.

Time for the Formal Dance~

If you’re wondering why Luke didn’t say anything when MC was suddenly poofed into their demon form, you’re assuming that Mammon wasn’t in on the “let’s prank the chihuahua” plan.

“Mammon..? Is MC behind you?”

“Nope! Why?”

MC was able to get to the other side of the ballroom with Luke none the wiser! Hell yeah, nothing like screwing with your friend!

So it’s canon that Lucifer is like, a solid 20/10, therefore MC is ADORABLE. What I’m saying is, some of the younger demons asked them to dance.

Asmo was also being MC’s hype man, which was very nice of him. Mammon also tried to give advice on how to be cool and suave. Beel was there for moral support.

“Alright kiddo, you need to be aloof and mysterious! People love aloof and mysterious, that’s why I’m so popular.”

“Don’t listen to him, MC. He flew into a wall as a kid and it killed all his brain cells. Just be proper but not snooty, sweet but not saccharine, friendly but not annoying,”

“Ask them if they want to share some of the hors d’oeuvres.”

“Okay, first, aloof and mysterious are the last words I would ever use to describe you, Mammon. Second, Asmo I have no clue what you’re asking me to do. Third... Beel that’s the best advice I’ve received in recent memory.”

None of that mattered anyway because MC got swarmed with dance offers.

“Well,” MC smirked and held out their hand at the demon that was bold enough to ask them to dance first. “I admire the confidence.”

The demon’s smile brightened, then dropped completely when their gaze drifted behind MC. “I uh... on second thought... I’m gonna...”

MC’s potential dance partners all quickly scattered to the snack table. The half demon growled and turned around to see their father acting like he didn’t just scare away MC’s groupies.

“Father! What was that for?!” MC huffed, Lucifer rolled his eyes and grabbed MC’s wrist and began to pull them away from the dance floor.

“You’re too young to dance.”

“That’s crazy! They looked like they were my age.” MC protested, their wings fluttering in annoyance.

“Even if they looked to be your age, MC, they’re hundreds of years older.” Lucifer said calmly.

“What about that equivalent age stuff you told me about? Like how Luke is hundreds of years old but by angel/human standards he’s technically younger than me?”

“That doesn’t matter right now.” Lucifer lightly pushed MC towards the hallway that led back to their room.

“But I want to dance with someone!” MC felt their wings involuntarily fluff up.

Lucifer turned and smiled at his dear little brat, crouching slightly to get to their level. “Not on my watch.”

MC’s face was literally this: >:0

Lucifer is out here being the dad in every comedy that involves someone bringing home their partner to meet their parents.

MC was banished to their room, they spent their time angrily reading the manga they had packed.

When Levi escaped the party slightly later MC grilled him for details of what went on after they left.

“Nothing too interesting... except... um...”

“Spit it out, Levi!”

“...lrddiavlondlucferdnced”

“I can’t understand you, stop mumbling.”

“Lord Diavolo and Lucifer danced together...”

“...”

“I MISSED THAT?!”

So yes, MC’s desire to get a picture of Lucifer sleeping stems from VENGEANCE!

How DARE their father send MC up to their room and make them miss their OTP dancing together!?

So they call up their troupe of idiots and get ready to go be menaces to society.

MC also invites along Asmo because he seemed like he could use the adventure.

And because MC couldn’t plan the prank without Asmo noticing so it was better to just implicate him as well...

“Grrr...”

MC brightened and clapped their hands. “I know that growl!”

“It’s not my stomach, I packed snacks.” MC couldn’t see this, considering the room was pitch black (it must’ve been some kind of magic because demons have excellent night vision), but Beel waved a bag of chips in the air and got to eating.

“No, I’m not talking about your stomach, Beel.” MC skipped towards the source of the growling despite Mammon and Levi’s pleas for them to stop.

Ah! There he was!

“Cerberus!” MC cooed, the three headed dog stopped growling and barked happily. “Whose a good boy? Is it you?”

Cerberus let lose a bark that would probably make anyone crap their pants, but MC giggled and kept petting him. “Yeah! You’re the good boy! You like cuddles! Yes you do! Yes you do!”

A flash of light from a camera caused MC to drop their baby talk voice and stare angrily in the direction where the light came from.

“Whoever took that picture better delete it or I’m going to feed you to the dog.”

Cerberus growled in agreement. What a good boy.

“Well, as nice as this is...” Asmo huffed. “We’ve clearly been duped because this is not Lucifer and Diavolo’s room.”

“Oh well!” MC chirped and continued to pet the three headed dog. “Look at the doggy!”

“MC, you’re crazy. Dontcha ever forget that.” Mammon whimpered as Cerberus growled at him.

So yeah, they couldn’t get out of the room, so they ended up opening up the other door and falling into the catacombs like a bunch of lemmings.

Asmo charmed Henry, and they got out of the labyrinth no problem.

Yay! No consequences! Oh no- hi Lucifer.

Lucifer gave them all the mother of all lectures. Satan showed up with the rest of the gang and brought popcorn.

Belphie wasn’t there, okay? Satan needed to be a little shit for him.

Ah yes, the pillow fight... Mammon’s crusade to be the best uncle culminated in a massive pillow fight that ended with MC, Lucifer, and Diavolo standing over everyone’s unconscious bodies.

So they uh... won the pillow fight.

MC couldn’t sleep. They legitimately couldn’t. As exhausting as the pillow fight victory had been, everyone was snoring, and MC was bleary eyed and awake at one in the morning.

They eventually sat up and looked around, Asmo was passed out in a very unflattering position, Solomon was chanting god knows what in his sleep, Levi was half hanging off Simeon’s bed, Simeon and Luke were sleeping like angels (hehehehe-), Beel was in the middle of eating his pillow in his sleep, Mammon appeared to be dreaming about winning the lottery, and Satan was... suspiciously absent.

He was there a minute ago... weird.

Deciding that this wasn’t worth it and they should just go sleep somewhere else, MC got out of bed and avoided stepping on anyone as they vacated the room.

The Demon Lord’s Castle at night could rival the House of Lamentation in terms of overall creepiness. MC had gotten used to the spirits and curses that littered their home, but they had only been to the Demon Lord’s Castle once before, so they were extra careful not to accidentally touch anything. Their stomach rumbled and they frowned.

Damn, they had the midnight munchies... they needed a snack.

MC made their way to the kitchen and on there way, noticed a peculiar room through a half open door. Taking a few steps back to peek into it, they noticed... doors. A lot of doors. And ivy covered steps. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to any of the placements, and the room was... weirdly chilly.

“You can come in if you’d like, MC.”

Barbatos’ voice nearly caused MC to hit a high note that they hadn’t been able to hit since their voice began to change. They straightened out their wrinkled pyjamas and stepped inside.

The butler himself was walking down one of the flights of stairs.

“Um...” Quickly remembering their manners, MC straightened their posture and cleared their throat. “Good evening Barbatos.”

Barbatos smiled and inclined his head in turn. “Good evening to you as well, MC.”

“How did you know it was me outside? You were up there a second ago.” MC asked.

“It’s a part of my powers. I can see possible futures, and I foresaw you passing by my room and getting curious.” Barbatos explained.

“Oh,” MC said, half nodding and continuing to look around. A the sound of a door closing out of MC’s vision made them squeak and look around for the source of the noise. “What was that?!”

“It’s nothing to be worried about.” Barbatos raised his hands in a placating gesture. “These doors in my room are gateways to different timelines and some are gateways into the past of this particular timeline. That was another version of me passing by.”

“Does this... happen often?” MC knitted their eyebrows.

Barbatos hesitated before answering. “Not really. It’s quite rare. Lord Diavolo has expressly forbidden me from using my full powers freely.”

“Ah... makes sense...”

“Now, I believe you came down for snacks?”

MC blinked in surprise. “How did you- oh... the time magic...”

“Yes, the time magic. Now, would you prefer yogurt and fruit, or apples and peanut butter?”

“Yogurt and fruit please!”

I’m sure MC’s knowledge of how Barbie’s room works will totally not come into play later. I’m sure.

Solomon and MC graced the brunch table with their cooking. I think you can guess how it would have turned out if Barbatos hadn’t intervened.

Rest In Peace to Beel’s tastebuds.

Anyway, the rest of the retreat was all fun and good.

MC may or may not have slipped up and called Diavolo ‘Dia’ in front of Lucifer. It would’ve sparked a lecture if Dia’s puppy-like excitement wasn’t so damn adorable.

Lucifer’s got a heart... somewhere... it’s probably all shrivelled up and tiny, but I’m sure it’s there.

Everyone went back home, brought closer together through... pillow fights and surviving Solomon’s cooking I guess..?

Anyway, MC got home, unpacked their stuff, watched Kakegurui with Levi and Mammon, let Asmo paint their nails, made and ate dinner with Beel, continued their piano lessons with Lucifer, and received a 100% fake smile from Satan.

It was a nice day with their new family, MC curled up in their bed and prepared to go to sleep.

“Help me!”

MC lurched upwards in their bed, whipping their head from side to side, trying to find the source of the voice. Their room was completely empty, the perks of being half demon extended to being able to see in the dark. No new smells either, they were alone in the room.

Auditory hallucinations were common before falling asleep after being sleep deprived, creepy, but not too unusual.

“MC!”

Okay- that one couldn’t be ignored. It was common knowledge that the House of Lamentation was definitely haunted in some capacity, but the ghosts never really bothered the demons living inside, MC was partly convinced that some of the ghosts didn’t even notice that the demons were there. So it couldn’t have been a ghost calling their name.

“MC! I need help!”

The voice reverberated through their head, like it was trying to hit every part of their skull to make sure it was at least felt if MC couldn’t hear it. MC massaged their scalp and got out of bed.

The House of Lamentation at night truly lived up to its haunted reputation. Cold, clammy, dark, even by demon standards. No spooky old house was going to scare MC though, they walked down the hall with their head held high.

They walked closer to walls and furniture, knowing that the floor was less likely to creak in those areas. How did they know that? Mammon had told them it worked like a charm. Well, it’d work better for him if he stopped tripping over the furniture and alerting Lucifer.

MC was much more nimble and careful, stepping slowly and lightly around the hallways until they reached the door to the attic. They reached out to clasp their hand around the doorknob, then froze. It smelled like…

Oh no.

MC leapt away from the door like it was rigged to explode if they touched it and practically dove for cover into an alcove. The all too-recent smell of Lucifer’s fancy cologne and the increasing sound of someone coming down the stairs made them clamp their hand over their mouth and crouch down.

What was their father doing up there?

He had said the attic was full of old junk and there was no reason to go up there, so why exactly did he-

The door slammed open and Lucifer stomped down the hallway back towards his room, MC presumed. They were about to let out a sigh of relief when the footsteps paused. MC felt their heart drop right into their gut when they heard the footsteps coming back in their direction.

What were they going to say to him when he found them? ‘Sorry! This isn’t where the bathrooms are!’ The last thing MC wanted was to add to their father’s ever growing list of stresses. MC was totally responsible and grown-up, their father didn’t need to worry.

MC clamped their eyes shut and tried to slow their heart rate. Demons were beings of darkness and shadow, they could blend in quite easily. They took a deep breath, cleared their head, and felt the shadows of the hallway shift and cover them like a blanket.

Lucifer’s footsteps stopped, MC heard a tired sigh, then the footsteps started up again, this time in the direction of his room.

They allowed themselves a sigh of relief before relieving themselves of their hiding space and opening the door leading to the attic staircase.

If the rest of the House of Lamentation was considered clammy, cold, and foreboding, the attic staircase was that multiplied by a factor of twelve. MC felt themselves shudder involuntarily when they stepped closer to the staircase. Every primal part of their brain was telling them to turn around and walk away, but one tiny part was holding them back. They placed their foot on the first step, waiting for any kind of resistance, nothing other than the feeling of passing through invisible cobwebs.

“MC?”

Upon hearing their name, MC craned their neck to try and get a look at what could be waiting for them at the top of the stairs.

“Are you coming, or not?”

The cascade of warning sirens that began to blare in MC’s head went ignored as they continued to scale the staircase.

When they reached the final step, they were met with a long hallway, with a single door on the right side of the wall.

“H-hello?” MC tried to instill some force into their voice, but it still ended up quavering a little.

“Down here.” Someone knocked on the wall next to the door, almost causing MC to jump.

Oh. Oh no. MC stood straight in front of the door, and when they saw who was looking back at them they nearly passed out.

“Belphegor..?”

Belphegor’s eyes flashed as he gave MC a once over. His eyes narrowed when his gaze snapped to MC’s. The analytical expression melted into a lazy grin.

“That’s me,” he said softly. “Nice to finally meet you, MC.”

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moomingitz · 3 years

Text

It’s... interesting looking back at the Jak and Daxter series, because when the second and third games first came out during my edgy teen years my mindset for them was mostly, “OMG Jak is now a buff and rugged edgy boi, he’s saying curse words, and has a literal edgy dark side to him. And Daxter is a big playboi who doesn’t hide his love for bewbs. Jak and Daxter is no longer for babies but for mature big kids like me!”

But looking at the series now; Holy shit, Jak has had it rough. Where do I even begin? This is going to be long, so get comfortable:

First, Jak was ripped away from his father at a very young age due to an insurrection. Then he was kidnapped by one of the people who was responsible for it, with the intention of being used to awaken some ancient Precursor technology, but luckily he somehow escaped and then was taken in by a rebellion group.

Then he was sent back into the past to be raised by Samos, the Sage of Green Eco. While that was a good thing for Jak, since he was able to grow up in a loving and supportive environment, what happened to him before that is something that would still be traumatic to a little kid especially in the form of something like Separation Anxiety. While this goes into headcanon territory, I can’t help but wonder if that had a lot to do with why Jak was the mostly silent type before the events of the second game. But thankfully he was lucky to grow up with two best friends like Daxter and Keira.

Surely you think that would be the end of misfortune Jak would have to go through. Wrong!

Fast forward to where he’s now 15 years old and everything seems all good and exciting after he and Daxter saved the world from Dee Snider and his twisted sister. Sure they didn’t accomplish what they set out for by turning Daxter back into his old humanoid self, by Daxter is content staying as a furry anyway. At least they saved the world and found some ancient Precursor technology. But hold up! Turns out it was some kind of rift gate and the moment they activated it some giant bug monster pops out and they’re all separated and thrown into some new place they’ve never seen.

Literal seconds later, before Jak or Daxter have any time to react or process what exactly just happened and where they ended up, Jak is immediately arrested and knocked unconscious, despite doing nothing wrong. He’s then tortured and experimented on for the next two years, in hopes of turning him into a living weapon by pumping Dark Eco into him. Keep in mind Jak was only 15-16 years old during those nightmarish two years of his life. But his BFF Daxter never gave up looking for him and eventually rescued Jak.

Upon busting out Jak has no damn idea where exactly he is, and when he does it turns out him and Daxter are now in a totalitarian, police state of a hellhole where never ending propaganda is blared everywhere you go, and where Jak’s only crime is just existing. Oh, and there’s currently an ongoing war between this police state regime ruling the city and some species called Metal Heads, so the territory outside the city is near inhospitable. So just simply leaving Haven City isn’t really an option. It’s either deal with the Krimson Gaurd who will get on you for just sneezing in the wrong direction, or claw your way for survival outside the city walls.

Until finding Samos and Kiera much later, Daxter is the only familiar and welcoming face Jak still had until then(the only exception being Sig in the “welcoming face” department).

Oh, and it turns out those Dark Eco experiments gave JAk some dark Hulk like form that he has trouble controlling(at least that’s what the game tells us). Oh, and they eventually learn that this shithole place they found themselves in is actually their home 500 years into the future. Oh, and it turns that this little kid they’ve been having to protect from both the Krimson Guard and the Metal Head army is actually Jak’s younger self.

Despite all that, the rebellion group and many of the criminals they had to work with eventually warm up and even become their friends, the authoritarian regime eventually crumbles, and they kill the Metal Head leader. Even though Jak doesn’t go back to his childhood home in the past, Keira, Samos, and Daxter choose to stay with him in the future, so he’s definitely not alone in the end. Happy ending earned, and that should be the end of all the bad stuff to happen in Jak’s life, right?...

Of course that wouldn’t be the end of bad traumatic shit to happen to Jak!

Right after the events of the second game, Jak is not only blamed for the fallout of the Praxis regime falling and the Metal Head army’s demise, but he’s outright banished to the Wasteland, no thanks to some weasely council member, Veger.

But ya boi Daxter snuck out to join Jak in his exile, so at least Jak still has his best friend with him. Jak now has to survive in a Mad Max esque land after proving himself worthy to Damas, the leader of some refuge village. But it’s kind of good because he slowly gets on this guy’s good graces.

Oh, but later on it turns out this Damas guy is actually the very father Jak was forcibly separated from during his very early childhood. But, Jak only figured that out just as Damas was dying, and he didn’t have a chance to tell Damas that he was his son that’s he’s been wanting to find for years.

It also turns out this Veger douchebag was one of the people aside from Baron Praxis who was responsible for Jak being separated from Dadmas, and was the guy who kidnapped him in an attempt use him to obtain that ancient Precursor technology.

Of course everything works out in the end. But yeah... You see what I mean? Jak was put through the wringer during the events of this whole trilogy! He's done nothing wrong! Yet starting from a very young age he’s either been targeted or dragged into other’s messes for just existing, or for something he had no choice to do in order to survive. The only real thing he did wrong was dragging Daxter over to Misty Island, which led to him being accidentally transformed into an ottsel in the first place. But the events of the first games was all a lighthearted adventure anyway. Aside from that it’s been one unfortunate or traumatic event after another for Jak.

When letting everything Jak went through really sink in, there’s guaranteed trauma and the resulting PTSD this poor guy is going to have to address or else it will inevitably manifest itself in some way later on. Acting gruff and blase' will only work for so long. I know some people get tired with pieces of fiction being compared to Steven Universe, but Steven’s eventual mental breakdown seriously came to mind. And some people will say, “It’s just a vidya game, stop thinking too much into it.”, but there was a conscious decision to take this series into a more dark and mature direction after the first game. So, it’s a bit hard not to think about more possible unpleasant implications based on what happened in the sequels, especially when looking at the events of the games through the lenses of today.

Taking all of this into consideration is also why I think Daxter is seriously the “MVP” of the series.

Daxter grew up being Jak’s best friend, which I’m sure helped Jak a lot after being separated from his father and taken to a literal place in time completely different and unfamiliar to him. I’m very sure his time growing up in Sandover Village and hanging out with Daxter was the best period of Jak’s life. Even after Jak dragged him to Misty Island, accidentally causing him to be transformed into an ottsel, and sacrificing his chance to be turned back to normal in order to save the world, Daxter showed no hard feelings towards Jak and he even learns to like being an ottsel.

He spent two years trying to find out where Jak was being held prisoner in Haven City, and infiltrated the place once he did and helped Jak escape.

And despite not having any fingers pointed towards him for the fallout after the events of the second game, Daxter still chooses to join Jak in exile in the Wasteland.

Daxter has never shown any ill will towards Jak despite him being the one responsible for being turned into an ottsel, and he’s never really abandoned him even when he is given many chances to or a way to get himself out of really bad situations. Despite everything, Daxter is still the same quippy, upbeat dork of a friend Jak has grown up with.

I really believe Daxter helped a lot with keeping Jak’s sanity intact during all of the hell he was put through and beyond. If there was a guaranteed way for someone to sign their own death warrant with Jak, I think harming or outright killing Daxter would be it.

#Jak and Daxter #Jak II #Jak 3 #Daxter #Damas

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hangmanshole · 3 years

Text

here comes santa claus

A/N: there’s no point in sugar coating this….. it’s pure unadulterated sheer horniness for ryan bergara in his santa costume.

word count: 1.6k+

warnings: 18+ !!!! smut to come in part 2, enough swear words to rival a 10 year old who just learned the word fuck, horny xmas pickup lines that wouldn’t be out of place in a cheesy xmas porno

with christmas fast approaching and your ebenezer scrooge vibe stinking up the loft you shared with your best friends, they finally lost all patience and took it upon themselves to drag your grumpy ass out of the comfort of the loft and into the car for some good old-fashioned retail therapy at the mall.

“but—“

“shut up, you’re going shopping and you’re gonna love it. maybe you could even buy a vibrator and go to town on yourself so you stop being such a cunt.”

“tell me how you really feel,” you grumbled, lowering into your seat so you were at the optimal position for window gazing.

—————

“bergara, you’re late… again” steven tsk’ed in annoyance, he wasn’t getting paid enough to deal with ryan’s shit, and also, he fucking reeked of stale beer. he was pretty sure the stain on his costume was also beer, or beer adjacent (enter whisky).

“better late than never, now let’s make some fucking wishes come true, huh?” he rubbed his hands together mischievously and walked out to his spot on santa’s throne. yeah. steven definitely wasn’t getting paid enough for this shit.

“HO HO HO BOYS AND GIRLS ITS ME, SANTA!” steven sighed, shook his head and plastered a smile on his face before running out to his position as head elf.

——————

“fellas i’ve changed my mind, i’m ready to get in the holiday spirit” you said in an attempt to declare a truce, maybe it wasn’t too late to back out of this.

“not only are you a grinch, but you’re also a goddamn, dirty liar. you need this” your best friend retorted, not at all impressed. you think you need new friends, this one’s defective and can call all your bullshit.

you sighed in defeat and allowed them to drag you through the entrance of the mall for what would be a torturous five hours of christmas shopping.

——————

“santa’s going to take a quick break, and then he’ll be right back! everybody say bye santa!” steven said to all the children and their accompanying parents while ryan stumbled out of his throne and back into the dressing room (tent).

steven pulled back the door to the tent and found ryan chugging straight from a whisky bottle that was nearing empty.

“nice one santa, maybe try not to fall on your ass this time. i can only say santa’s a bit clumsy because he can’t see over his beard so many times.”

“yes dear, i’ll be a good boy from now on” ryan replied in a drunken stupor.

“jesus christ, is that bottle from today?” steven asked, ignoring ryan’s smartass comment.

“you bet your sweet ass it is.”

steven sat in weighted silence as ryan chugged down the rest of the whisky bottle. the uniform he had to wear was unbearably itchy, not to mention thick (which makes him sweaty), and worst of all, he had to babysit ryan through the rest of the holidays. he was disgruntled to say the least - what was usually his favourite time of year was soured because his best friend was broken-hearted over a friends with benefits situation gone wrong, thus drinking himself into a fucking hot mess while he was meant to be lying about the miracle of christmas to gullible, doe-eyed children while their parents paid for their kid to sit on the lap of a stranger. happy fucking holidays.

he glanced at the clock, and then back at ryan who was staring into space, completely disconnected from reality.

“breaks over, santa. knock ‘em dead” he said in what he hopes was an encouraging tone. he was met with a slurred grunt, which he’d have to accept as an answer. he watched as ryan gathered himself up and stumbled his way out of the tent. steven prayed to whatever god was looking down on him to have mercy on him, and also on ryan’s liver which was surely taking hella damage.

———————

“dude can we go home now? i’m literally out of money” you pleaded to your roommates. your feet were sore from standing for so long, your mouth was dry from the giant soft pretzel you’d snacked on earlier and to be honest, you were fucking exhausted from being around people for so long. your social battery could only last for so long and you were riding the last of that sweet sweet juice on 2%.

“in a minute” was all the answer you got. after 20 not minutes, according to your best friend anyway, passed you exited the store in a huff, leaving all your shopping bags unattended in the cart. you exhaled a long breath and thought about all the reasons you loved your friends and how you’d miss them if they suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth.

just as you allowed yourself to get swept away in your thoughts, a bellowed HO HO HO caught your attention. not fucking santa. god, you’d forgotten that malls hire any random dude off the street once a year to play santa and let all the good little boys and girls of this shit piss town sit on his lap and tell them what they want for christmas.

i’ll tell you what i want for christmas, santa. some fucking dick, you thought to yourself. you make the decision to glance over in the direction of this years holiday shmuck, entertaining the idea of getting a good laugh out of the pervy old man sitting on old saint nicks throne. you’re surprised however, to find a young looking guy, fucking fit, manspreading on santa’s seat.

were all the old men of the world too busy to play santa this year? who is this guy?

your questions unfortunately received no answers as your roommates finally decided to make an appearance outside the store.

“we’re done— uh…. are you checking out santa?”

“no the fuck i’m not” you replied, just a tad too fast.

“dude ew oh my godddd, since when do you like old men?”

“he’s literally not old, look.” you point over towards the christmas display so that your friends too could appreciate the view that is new hot santa.

“i think we should take a family photo with santa” your best friend mused, a shit eating grin plastered across their stupid face.

“no, i refuse. no” you reply, but your words fall on deaf ears. the three bastards you call roommates are already dragging you over to the queue of children waiting to see santa.

“you can’t make me!” you shout, catching the attention of several disproving mothers. they let go of you once you’re situated in the queue, and your best friend says that they’ll wait in line with you until it’s your turn.

“i hate this, i hate it here, i hate you…do you hate me? is that why i’m here?” you ask.

“you don’t get to be a jackass just because some asshole jock broke your heart. and you don’t get to be an even bigger asshole on christmas just because your parents got divorced when you were a kid. this is our first holiday as a loft family and you’re ruining it.”

you don’t reply after that, what could you even say? what would you even say?

“next please!” the head elf called out to you.

“don’t forget to smile!” your best friend said to you, then patted you on the back and left the queue.

“i don’t mean to rush you but santa is on a tight schedule, please come up if you’re ready for your picture” the head elf said to you, looking you directly in the eyes.

you nodded, embarrassed, and made your way up the stairs as fast as you could. your senses were hit with the scent of whisky and stale beer. talk about christmas spirit. santa was still seated while manspreading, and you realise now it’s because he’s fucking tanked.

“well hey there pretty girl” santa greets you, a wicked grin on his face.

“hi santa” you reply, not moving toward him.

“why don’t you come over here and sit on santa’s lap and we’ll talk about the first thing that pops up” he chuckles. your face flushes pink. you clear your throat uncomfortably and fill in the final gaps till you were sat on santa’s lap.

“now that’s a good girl. why don’t you tell me what you want for christmas, baby?” santa says, his tone a chilling purr in your ear. he takes the chance and pushes a loose strand of hair behind the same ear he’d just whispered into.

“santa—“ you start.

“yeah?”

“i just want a man to take care of me and my… needs” you muse, a slight smile gracing your face.

“and what needs would those be, little girl?” you watched as santa’s eyes darkened while they bore into yours. god he was so fucking hot.

“let’s just say… it’d be a christmas miracle if any man could make me cum this holiday season” you pouted. you felt santa harden in the slightest underneath you, a low growl leaves his mouth, concealed by the ridiculous santa beard.

“how about you let santa take care of you, huh, sweet girl? i wanna give you this present myself.” you moaned quietly into his ear.

“say cheese!” the head elf said, pulling the both of you out of the trance of your conversation. you both smiled at the click and then turned back to each other.

santa slipped you a piece of paper and you pocketed it immediately. “my shift ends in an hour, meet me at the address on that note?”

“only if you wear the costume” you smirk at him.

“god i’m gonna fuck you so good.”

#ryan bergara #ryan bergara smut #ryan bergara x reader #ryan bergara fic #ryan bergara fanfiction

100 notes · View notes

infinitelytheheartexpands · 3 years

Text

Responses from the Opera Screencaps Captioning Quiz

Hello, everyone, and thank you for taking my quiz! I had SO MUCH fun reading your captions-- there were several times I literally started crying from laughing so hard at the amazingness of your work! With that in mind, the captions (which I will continue to add onto as more people take it):

(also, thank you to @dichterfuerstin for translating the German captions I got)

originally taken from: the Wiener Staatsoper’s 2020 production of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Die Entführung aus dem Serail, featuring Regula Mühlemann (center) as Blonde, Michael Laurenz (right) as Pedrillo, and an unnamed extra (left) as the Grim Reaper

Responses:

(Backstage warm-up) “ok so someone dropped the pulse”

me and my friends watching the fire burn after doing arson

Introducing the polycule to the parents

*boom* ... did...you guys hear that too?

Ma Signor !

Knight in whinging armour gone wrong, look at how he holds the egg. Polyamory with weird knight and death.

the father, son and the holy ghost are very gay

the gays meeting for brunch, 2021, colorized

chicken lady forces death and a very flamboyantly homosexual anthropomorphized pink bird to be parents of her egg (they dont want to be)

That’s just me and my friends on our night out (before covid rip)-- closest

A Good Friday night

good omens (2019)

["the pocket guide to boy/girl/mischief" meme] who's the boy and who's the mischief though????

Papageno and Papagena take their first-born egg trick-or-treating

Angry Birds - The Musical. A pig stole an egg and the bird unites with death to take revenge.

I love my bird wife

Someone got murdered during the funky chicken dance

throuple murders child and steals sibling of said child

When you and your friends have widely different tastes in literature

angel leading twink to his rightful place (hell)

draco malfoy from a very potter musical and a death eater are very much in the wrong show

What have I gotten myself into

Mlm/wlw solidarity but I’m not telling who is who

A woman stands with a pink dipshit with an egg and a reaper.

A bird-couple makes a pact with Death, sacrificing their first-born bird-child in order to bring good luck upon their unborn bird-baby

There are three types of people on Halloween:

Uh oh, I don’t think the mother hen is very happy about this...

oh god, they’ve invented seussical. It’s too early!

gay brunch

Three little maids from school are we

guys maybe if we dress gay enough we can distract everyone from the dead flapper bee in the back

those three killed a duck for her egg and are facing the conswquences.

Duck has egg with human, shocked and upset due to biological impossibility

When you bout to make a banging omelet so you invite your fellow queers

"No mortal man could pass that egg, but heaven shall repair your rectum."

originally taken from: the Salzburg Festival’s 2007 production of Hector Berlioz’s Benvenuto Cellini, featuring Maija Kovalevska (left) as Teresa Balducci, Laurent Naouri (center, in chimney) as Fieramosca, and Burkhard Fritz (right) as Benvenuto Cellini

Responses:

“In this same interlude it doth befall That I, one Snout by name, present a wall; And such a wall, as I would have you think, That had in it a crannied hole or chink, Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby, Did whisper often very secretly. This loam, this rough-cast and this stone doth show That I am that same wall; the truth is so: And this the cranny is, right and sinister, Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.” - a midsummer night’s dream, act v scene 1

"ah yes a prime specimen. see here, right in this box is our one of a kind hob goblin that can be all yours for the low low price of your soul"

what, YOU don't have a special eavesdropping chimney window?

Hänsel und Gretel plotting against the witch

man takes a wrong turn and ends up in a chimney, catches his girlfriend cheating-- closest

when you end up third wheeling the straight couple

lady cheats on her leather jacket wearing scummy boyfriend and when he unexpectedly comes home she hides the lover in the chimney

A straight girl and her gay best friend gossip about stuff idk

Idk Shakespeare?

experimental couples therapy feat. the chimney mf from mary poppins

Area Couple Inadvertently Traps Santa-in-Training in Chimney as they Attempt Rooftop Flirting

Landlords laugh over student renter's misfortune

I never asked for this

Ay yo lil mama lemme whisper in your ear

voyeurist listens to sandy and Danny from grease

Psssst! Did you hear about Susan? You won’t believe it!

lady and the tramp meets beauty and the beast?

human trafficking

And for just $30 you too could have your own tiny brick cage!

Psst I’m wearing assless chaps under this dress

A couple tortures a man in a box.

It's all fun and games being stuck in a chimney until your greasy uncle steals your crush from right above you-- okay ngl this could actually be a great Don Pasquale concept

Taking eavesdropping to the next level

Will you two stop being lovey dovey and let me out? SUMMER LOVIN, HAPPENED SO FAST—

overhearing how people talk about you when they think they're alone puts you in the shithouse

Does he know we can see him?

dear god, i am so fucking hungry, yall please just do whatever heterosexuals do so i can go eat a popsicle

the human version of the trash man from sesame street is realizing that those two are going to fuck on his trash can

Tmw you capture an angry short dude and start trashtalking him where he can hear

Omg what if we kissed but we actually kissed the lil goblin man under us

"Remember, don't feed him after midnight"

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2017 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Le prophète, featuring Leonardo Estevez (right, on fake horse) as Le Comte d’Oberthal

Responses:

“When I said we needed to drain the swamp I didn’t think there were people actually living there”

horse? what horse? no sir i dont know what horse youre referring to.

definitely don't have a napoleon complex going on

King stole La Scala‘s Lohengrin set

king breaks all his horses, has to use statue dragged by servants as transportation because he’s too kingly too walk

Emperor Söder and his subjects on a carnival procession

man on horse makes a big deal out of being on a horse

That’s not Zeffirelli because the horse is not alive

Who the fuck put a horse on the stage

isn't this that picture of napoleon on the horse

Area Count Thinks Citizens will be Intimidated by his Extremely Fake-looking Horse Statue-- closest

Everyone wants their turn on the giant plaster horse. Police are there to make sure everyone waits their turn.

Night out with the lads

Local royalty horrified at the state of his own damn kingdom

gay army fights different gay aesthetics-- hi author how does it feel to be the funniest fucking person on this quiz

Well at least I LOOK badass

ceasar if he hadn't gotten stabbed (colourised)

some soldiers jumped out of my kindergarten fairytale collection book to burn the don carlos flemish deputies at the stake

It’s just a model

Is that how you feel pulling up in your Honda Civic, Madge?

Someone rides a horse statue in public.

Just a normal party with the bros.

what is this, some kind of crossover episode?

Terribly sorry for all the fuss, it’s just, that is, my horse is afraid of neck ruffles. I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but he’s—whoaaa there—he said he was a french courtier in a past life and he’s allergic to English fashion

Horse seller, listen to me! I am riding into battle. I need your strongest horse. - We have horses at home. - The horses at home:

All hail Incitatus the king

we are not ripping off shakespeare’s henry viii. what the fuck. this is about lenny xi you uncultured swine, go drown in a pit of your own farts

oh god is that hamilton

Guy Removed From Art Museum For Sitting On Statue, more at eleven

Gay <3

Officer: This horse... is a virgin! Crowd: *cheers*

originally taken from: the Parma Verdi Festival’s 2017 staging of Giuseppe Verdi’s Stiffelio, featuring Maria Katzarava (left) as Lina and Luciano Ganci (right) as Stiffelio

Responses:

That One kid in class

its a mEntAL BreAkDowN *final countdown but kazoo*

*record scratch* yeah, that's me. you're probably wondering how I got here-- closest

Dad keeps monologuing, teenager is done

left: all of my concerned friends, right: my emo ass having a very public mental breakdown

the demons in the corner of my room when im just trying to sleep

lady gets mansplained to (do i need to say more, we've all been there)

It’s probably an area baritone telling off an area soprano-- sorry; it’s a tenor. soprano is right though.

That was a fake horse in the last photo right?

child comes out as gay to father at a particularly bad time

dissociation solves everything

I can't believe it's not butter

Honey we talked about this

My sleep paralysis demon is Crowley from supernatural

child has nightmare of boring job

When you start dating a singer but he won’t stop practicing at night

just an average day in a hetero marriage

what do i do my wife's having period cramps again

Stop having an existential crisis. It’s time to sing!

“No son of mine will kin Gomez Addams under MY roof”

Crowley stares into space while a teen has post nut clarity.

When he wont stop reciting jordan peterson monologues!!

Do you realize how effed you are?

Ugh, not this lecture again! Dad’s Practicing For His Experimental Indie Band Again

asking your parents for help with your own personal situation and them just ranting off about what they went through instead of helping in any way

Will he shut up already!

no one tell him he’s yelling in the wrong direction, no one tell him plnsbdjddhdj

this kid is tired of his dad listening to rush limbaugh (a man who claimed to be pro life but died anyway)

Me internally vs externally

Daddy issues

originally taken from: the Grand Théâtre de Genève’s 2020 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Les Huguenots, featuring several chorus members

Responses:

It’s the deadly eye Of Poogley-pie. Look away, look away, As you walk by, ‘Cause whoever looks right at it Surely will die. It’s a good thing you didn’t … You did? … Good-bye. - shel Silverstein

why the fuckith? my good sir, i beg of you to put your pants back on

I hate this itchy hat

Titanic Extras hear that they have to do extra hours

people waiting to board the titanic watch someone fall off the plank

pov: you’re a time traveler

guy in the flatcap is embarrassed by patriotism and pathos

No idea. For some reason Le Marseillaise comes to mind

Is this from Harry Potter?

disneyland main street usa workers on strike

local tries to hide behind Newsies cap to avoid unpleasant but inevitable conversations. meanwhile, some very fashionable ladies look on.

"Thank fuck, 2020 was just a dream after all"

“We gather here today because this bitch got exactly what she deserved” “heaven!” “Stfu Stephanie she’s going to hell and we all know it”-- not quite but this basically happens later on in the opera (and act) so yeah (except the person in question very much Did Not Deserve It)

dc movie filter on bridgerton

america?

looks like my history teacher paused the prohibition documentary again

Who still wears page boy hats bro?

Coming out to a room of people who Already Knew That

Bitches are relieved at some party.

Several drunk people exiting getting off the subway attempting to seem sober and rational but realizing they have somehow lost all of their possessions

How tf do I act natural in this situation-- closest

“do you think any of them noticed that I don’t know the pledge of allegiance”

It's too fucking hot outside for this outfit

when hyyh yoonkook ending just hits different

pedestrians watch in horror as the triangle shirtwaist factory burns and the workers throw themselves out of the windows from a dozen stories up

Starting the pledge of allegiance be like

He's having a heart attack oh no oh god oh fuck

originally taken from: if I remember correctly, the Semperoper Dresden’s 2018 semi-staging of Johann Strauss II’s Die Fledermaus, with Jonas Kaufmann as Gabriel von Eisenstein

Responses:

“William Shakespeare wrote: "To thine own self be true And it must follow, as the night the day Thou canst not then be false to any man" I believe this wise statement best applies to a woman A blonde woman Over the past three years she taught me And showed us all That being true to yourself never goes out of style Ladies and gentlemen Our valedictorian: Elle Woods!” - legally blonde the musical

eat ass, suck a dick, and sell drugs

woooooorrrrd

Finally Jonas has graduated! It’s about time, considering he’s an international star.

what my professors think they look like

Prof. Dr. Dr. When someone tells him there are more than two genders

'and since you've now graduated high school, you'll be entering college etc. blablabla' .........meanwhile, there's a whole row of graduates daring each other to chug the cheap vodka one of them has brought in gallons (yes that happened at my graduation, lol)

Jonas darling baby <3-- can’t argue with that

I just realized I have no idea what the actual fuck happens in an opera

ok this one is just what jonas kaufmann always wears you can't fool me.

"as valedictorian i will share with you the importance of loving the floor"

"Yes, mother, my art degree will make me money!"

Graduation speakers are out, singers are in

Senior year takes a new meaninbg

mansplainer professor explains the concept of feminism to women

Your Prof when you finally turn in that missing assignment be like

younger boris johnson (derogatory)

jonas kaufmann retires from opera and takes up motivational speaking

What a fine graduation evening we’re having today

-70 points for slytherin you all have no swag

A man with a college hat sings.

An obviously greying actor trying to play a university student in a low-budget porn parody

How it feels to graduate high school after being held back for years

East High is a place where teachers encouraged us to break the status quo and define ourselves as we choose. Where a jock can cook up a mean crème brûlée, and a brainiac can break it down on the dance floor-

I may not have been "cool" in high school, but in ten years you will all be working for me!

I finally got my GED!

that one guy in ur intro to cultural anthropology class who mansplains to the professor somehow fucking graduated

he;s just graduating and taking his speech too serously idk

Graduation speeches with that one dude who got held back 3 times

Smrt

originally taken from: the Metropolitan Opera’s 2011 staging of Gioachino Rossini’s Le Comte Ory with Joyce DiDonato (left) as Isolier, Diana Damrau (center) as Countess Adèle, and Juan Diego Florez (right) as Le Comte Ory (disguised as a hermit)

Responses:

There is something very [disturbing grunts] About polyamorous couples - polyamorous, Chris Fleming

jinkies

femme fatale (including to herself)

I’ll have a threesome soon !

Hot guy walks by, everyone swoons.

thirdwheeling friend does not realize the other two are having sex

When your girlfriend had „just two beers“ again

jesus is exasperated about having to drag the two ladies towards doing what he needs them to do instead of purple dramatically declaring suicidal intent over the smallest trivial matters and red being equally dramatic about declaring that it's not the way! stay alive! i love you!!

The throuple is thriving

Get off the milf

orgy

my last three braincells because im a horny slut

countess receives too much love and is confused on how to react

Rasputin's lesser known romp with a much older czarina of russia

Woman's soul leaves body

Jesus and co. are worried after another woman gets pregnant without having sex

bisexual looks at photos of celebrity couples

When you go to the party to socialize with new people but your weirdo friend group starts getting clingy

Jesus cumming

one of those weird church christmas pageants but everybody's drunk

What have I done

Hozier??????????

Jesus assfucks some purple lady being hugged.

This time, the chick IS the magnet

An affair/threesome gone awry (2019 colorized)

What do you mean they canceled GLOW?

“I TOLD you it was cashmere!”

Are you wearing the - - The Gucci dress? Yes I am.

It's not what it looks like!

jesus is fucking that one cheerleader who grew up to be a suburban mom with one (1) super cool dress she stole from her kid who is desperately hugging her middle begging for it back because the spring fling is coming up and jason might actually make eye contact with her for more than three seconds.

jesus and mary magdaline and some other bitch

I’m at a bar and these drunk girls are flirting with me, do I lOOK GAY?!

Shrek 5, jesus's return

c. 2025 First attempt of an Officer and his Wife with a Handmaiden (colourized)

just about all of these are close lol

originally taken from: the Bolshoi Theater’s 1993 staging of Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s The Maid of Orléans, featuring Nina Rautio (left) as Joan of Arc and Vyacheslav Pochapsky (right) as Thibaut d’Arc

Responses:

Don’t look, I’m still pooping

yall, the audacity of this man. he fuckin talked to me

*i can't even tell you how wrong you are* *it would be insulting to ME*-- closest

Cospeto!

„No I’m not talking to you, you keep cracking bad jokes!“ - „But I got another!“

when you’re mad at him but he says he’ll buy you food if you cheer up

When I’m wallowing in self-pity but my friends won’t comfort me

right: wanna fuck ;) left: yeah, fuck OFF lmao

Her face is screaming “don’t tell me what to do”

Yeah I got nothing

gay man tries to hit on a lesbian bc he thinks she's a twink. she's not amused but she's watching this happen anyway

me tired of MET's bullshit and them organising a Netrebko, known blackface apologist, a recital during Black History Month. (sorry im still fucking salty lol)

"stop smiling at me like that I'm trying to pout over here"

"I got fleas, you got fleas... wanna fuck?"

I have the best idea!

Haha nooooo don’t hit me with that bat you’re so sexxyy

lesbian is bothered by dilf

Me trying to flirt

if call me by your name was hetero and set in america

how many more dad jokes can i take before i explode

So. You’ve gotten yourself in a little pickle again.

What if we fought in the Russian revolution together ✨???????... unless??

Two people flirt in a poor place of town/

"If you ask me what I've got under this dirty, shapeless tunic one more time I swear to god I will kick your rotting teeth in"

You look like ur gonna kill me but ok

Really? You again?

Okay, I’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes, do you think it’s safe to—oh god, he’s still there.

Have you seen Godot?

she is tired of everyone’s shit. she has done so many derivatives it physically pains her to see a variable. dont test her. ur icarus rn.

idk pick better pictures-- I HAVE DIED THE SHEER AUDACITY AND HUBRIS I LOVE THIS

200% done with your crap

Homeless man has fucking legs of steel n is gonna show off his Russian dance moves

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2019 staging of Paul Dukas’ Ariane et Barbe-bleue, featuring Sophie Koch (right) as Ariane and I don’t remember who the person on the left is rip me

Responses:

The knight who wore this into battle sure was swaggy

dear god its hiddeous

Capitalism

Knight in shining armour gone even more wrong.

ghost contemplates the safety of spiky motorcycle helmet

„Stop! He feels bullied!“

'this is my newest take for jesus's crucifixion crown ...... what do you mean they already put him up'

That’s probably a really expensive magic helmet idk. IDK-- closest

Omg I love the adventure zone!

minesweeper (windows xp)

"Okay whatever you do don't touch the shiny spiky ball" "It's so shiny I wanna touch it"

Taking down the trash way too late

IT'S NOT A PHASE MOM

Darth Vader got stuck in the freezer.... again. Leia isn’t happy

Star Wars 2030

“And here is the very latest in motorcycle helmet trends” “Look, I only came to the mall for a pair of socks “

futuristic kkk

long-suffering jewelry store attendant really wants to retire

Put it down put it down put it down

“Hmm no you should see a doctor about that”

A weird ass crown is presented

The creation of sars-cov-2: an experimental Eurotrance nightclub art piece gone horribly wrong

How it feels to want something that u cant have

AND WE WILL CALL IT—SPIKE MAN actually do you think that’s too obvious?? Because of the—yeah, because of the spikes?? See, that’s what I’m worried about. I want it to be SCARY

I know it's risky but... lube me up

use the force luke.

that is a weird fleshlight

When you get an ugly gift and need to find a way to get rid of it, so your family member/friend offers to smash it

Touch the orb

originally taken from: the Opera Vlaanderen’s 2019 staging of Fromental Halévy’s La Juive, with Nicole Chevalier (left, with bottle) as Princess Eudoxie, Enea Scala (center, under table) as Prince Léopold, and Roy Cornelius Smith (right) as Éléazar

Responses:

When no one comes to your birthday party :(

fantastic, day 487 of mischief and they have yet to find my masterful hiding spot

i really wonder who he thinks he's playing footsie with

Marriage crisis. Reason sits under the table-- closest but not in the way you think (after all, the man under the table IS a tenor).

the last supper afterparty after jesus left

When you order the last supper on wish

espionage at the Politischer Rosenmontag

Probably the wrong opera but is that Leporello under the table

Now THIS is a Good Friday night

this was every birthday party i went to between the ages of 5 and 11

that awkward moment when you drop your fork under the table but when you re-emerge everyone else has left except one drunk lady and the guy trying to deal with her

After the last supper

Tfw you arrive to the dinner party too early and have to hide until a more fashionable hour

When the cishets aren’t home

waiter hides from customers

Nobody: My dog every time I’m eating:

what's left of the homies Jesus had dinner with

university chem lab experiment gone terribly wrong

I’ve been under the table FOR 30 MINUTES

Set your friends up by tossing them off under the table, they’ll think it’s each other n fall in luv

Someone hids under a table

"You're about to see an surreptitious-under-the-table-dick-sucking master at work"

5 yr old me trying to eat the desert under the table without my parents finding out be like:

They never invite me to their parties!

Just another girl’s night in

Oops! Didn’t notice you the table.

dionysus - bts (2019, colorized)

just a normal episode of eric andre (eric is the one under the table)

Just a normal day with the boys

Thievery

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2017 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Le prophète, featuring Kate Aldrich (left, surrounded by women in white) as Fidès and John Osborn (center, looking like a Jesus doppelganger) as Jean de Leyde

Responses:

Hold up, is that Eggman above Jesus?

holy disco

Looks like Tannhäuser. Our lord and saviour Richard Wagner. Now I need to be saved from that.

catholicism

me defending pineapple on pizza (THANK YOU)

jesus but hes about to be abducted by the alien ufo above him

Emmmmmmm Heaven? Idk

Lord of the rings?

ewww christianity gross

"behold, I am Important"

"Seriously?? It's not ACTUALLY pyjama day? Fuck you guys!"

Jesus at the Disco

Jesus Finds The Molerat People Who Live Under Bethlehem

disco is heaven

Want to join my new religion?

the kkk

church christmas pageant where everyone's sober but it's based on the director's fever dream

Am I the only one who sees the giant demon? Just me? Okay...

“Oh god I think I’m starting my period”

A party is held with a priest in the middle

"Let's get this secret Vatican sex party rolling!"

The new avengers endgame set is looking great!!

You know, guys, I try not to be a bother but...I can’t help but feel like I missed a dress code memo for this wedding??? It’s cocktail, right??”

Jesus visits Hogwarts

I must really stink if no one will even come close to me

the extra ass funeral i DESERVE

star wars life day

A cult at it’s best-- closest

Shrek 5, Jesus is still there I guess

originally taken from: the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden’s 2013 staging of Giuseppe Verdi’s Les vêpres siciliennes, featuring Bryan Hymel (left, standing) as Henri, Lianna Haroutounian (center, kneeling in the black gown) as Duchess Hélène, and Erwin Schrott (kneeling to her right) as Jean Procida

Responses:

When the director’s like “great rehearsal guys, just a few notes before I let you go” but it’s already 9:13 and your mom’s waiting in the parking lot

loyalist of subjects

bow before your queen

They forgot to take down the stage boxes after the Vienna opera ball but the show must go on.

somebody forgot to book chairs for this funeral

Me sharing God’s (Hayley koyoko) word on the discord server

mass execution bc the oboe solo sucked ass-- closest

That’s too many black suits I can’t see shit

I can’t even tell what’s going on here

8th grade school assembly about how it's uncool to shit on the walls at school

let's all get fancy so we can go to the opera and sit on the stage (idk this one's hard lol)

"Yes i am a time traveller, now don't freak out"

Tfw you forget to pay your lighting bills

White guys make decisions that will benefit them and screw someone that’s not a white guy over-- OUCH but that is too real (although not really in context here)

dead man gives speech at his own funeral

brotus and the boys ??? last meeting before the stabbing

high society social function ends in mass murder-- right opera, wrong scene

Someone walks into the talent show stage with a dog

Black-dressed bitches worship a man.

Worst school assembly of all time

POV:You're the window in the classroom and someone said "its snowing"

When the conductor shows up fashionably late to the orchestra concert

That's what you get for choosing the cheapest ticket option, get back in the mud where you belong

theyre just trying to jump into a grave at a funeral leabe them alone this is normal

oh my god he really whipped his dick out in front of everyone, this is just like in 1776 guys, except some women are actually in the room this time,

A funeral, stop wearing so much black

I want to slap their bald heads like rice

originally taken from: the Teatro Real Madrid’s 2018 staging of Gaetano Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor, featuring Roberto Tagliavini (right) as Raimondo

Responses:

Crowd “haha!! Looks like someone missed the all-black memo!! Now it’s laugh-in-your-face time! / Guy on the floor (whispering to guy against wall): go, save yourself! I’ll hold them off...”

if i leave now i wont be a witness and can tell the police i had no idea

it was the best of times, it was the worst of times

Guy in the back pretends to help but is to far away to even know what’s going on.

priest walks in on beginning of an orgy, contemplated joining but is too scared-

when someone brings up capitalism but you’re just trying to play minecraft

lol lets trample this guy while the judge isnt looking

Again. Too many black costumes

Loved this Dostoevsky novel

i would know if opera directors were more creative with clothing choices ngl

me on parties lol

"imma just sneak out of here while everyone else is distracted"

"Where did he get this flooring!? Amazing!"

Everyone act normal!

The tell tale heart but they got REALLY drunk

man tposes to ward off vampires after being caught undercover

boys ???? night

the priest really shouldn't have visited the insane asylum-- closest

He’s FINE everyone’s been hit by a car before

Something happens in a room.

Perks of being a wallflower

There's always that one person in the fight whos trying not to get involved when they really wanna

Oh good, they’re all posing for a Rembrandt painting, I can just sneeeeaaak out the back here...

The gamer livestreaming Resident Evil + everyone watching the stream ? waiting for him to open the door just knowing it will trigger a chase scene

Quick!

the guy t posing in the back is regretting his every decision.-- also accurate

the us senate jumps ted cruz, some other wack ass gop senator is trying to sneak away

...I spoke too soon, however this is a James Bond mission

Queers help fellow queer do math but it's a struggle

#opera #opera tag #results #screencaps #captions #caption #caption this #caption contest #this seems to have gone over well and I am Pleased

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thirstyforbishiesimagines · 4 years

Text

Hehehe I had way too much fun trolling this ‘cold’ grumpy boii! Poor Eugene can’t catch a break!

Also... Zion’s such a mood in this fic ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Enjoy xx

Dangerous Fellows Christmas Event

Eugene x Reader

Fluff

🎅 🎄 I Post-Apocalypse

“EUGENE! STOP… RUNNING!” Legs slowing down from fatigue, totally out of breath, you continue to chase after him.

“NO!” He calls back, zooming in and out of each room as you tail his every move.

“It’ll be cute! I swear!” You plead helplessly, holding out a fuzzy snowman costume toward him.

“HELL. NO.”

“Eugeneee! Pleaseee! We’re gonna be late!”

“GOOD! WE’LL JUST STAY HOME THEN!” He rushes past you, sprinting into the bedroom before locking the door behind him.

“Come on, Eugene!” You catch your breath before slumping against the door for support. “Stop being childish! Everyone will be dressed up!”

“I DON’T CARE!” He yells from behind the door. “AND WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE A SNOWMAN?!”

You chuckle lightly, not needing to see his face, you could already picture the cute pout upon his features as he retaliates.

“We all selected from a list! You refused to take part in choosing, so you were left with the snowman nobody wanted!”

You waited patiently for his reply. But as time passed, you were met with nothing but silence. Bringing your ear to the door, you could hear the quiet mumbles of a grumpy Eugene.

Realising you had no other choice, you decide to go with plan B to combat his stubborn resolve.

Pretending to sigh heavily, you slowly begin to walk away while putting on your best discouraged voice.

“Fine! You win! Let me go get changed and then we can go…”

A sinister smile wide upon your lips, you sneakily slip out a newly bought costume from your bag.

A couple minutes go by as Eugene continues to hide himself away.

Exhaling deep, you mask your mischievous grin and casually call out, “OK, EUGENE! I’M DONE! LET’S GO NOW!”

Eyes glued toward the bedroom, you watch as the golden-haired male exits the doorway, a bright triumphant smile upon his lips.

“We’re late now…” You sigh as you pick up your plate of freshly baked cookies, nonchalantly stepping out from behind the counters — now in clear view.

As Eugene’s eyes land on your figure, his winning smile gets utterly washed out by the overwhelming colour of crimson painted over his face.

“ARGH! W-WHAT ARE YOU W-WEARING?!” He stutters, completely paralysed as he shamelessly gawks at your outfit.

Cleavage pushed up to the nines and booty cheeks threatening a full display from the smallest of movements, you simply answer, “My costume?”

You head towards the front door; clad in nothing but lacy red lingerie, a red mini skirt with fluffy white trimming and a simple Santa hat.

As you turn the doorknob, Eugene beelines toward you and slams the door shut. Arms out wide, he shields you from the outside world.

“YOU CALL THAT A COSTUME?!” He questions, totally exasperated as his eyes scan over you in every direction.

“Eugene… we don’t have time for this…” Moving him out of the way, you reach out for the doorknob again before he quickly grabs hold of your arms.

“NO NO NO NO NO NO NO! YOU ARE DEFINITELY NOT LEAVING THE HOUSE LIKE THIS! GO GET CHANGED!”

“But… this role is important... Who else will be Santa then?” You ask innocently, tilting your head in fake concern.

“I DON’T KNOW! BUT IT SURE AS HELL WON’T BE YOU!”

“Eugene…”

He then grabs your hands tight, crouching down before looking up to meet your gaze with pleading amber eyes. “Please, (Y/N)! I’ll do anything, I’ll even wear that dumb snowman costume. Just please don’t wear this out.”

“…Really?”

“I’ll put it on right now if you want!” Eugene replies with desperation.

Got him.

Knowing you had him completely wrapped around your finger, you ultimately decide to ease him of his torturous distress. “Well… I guess I might have another outfit somewhere…”

Practically on his knees by now, he pleads once more. “Yes, please… just… anything but that.”

“Okay… I’ll go get changed…”

“Oh, thank god.” Eugene exclaims before slumping down onto the couch.

Taking a small peek at his defeated form as you leave, you witness Eugene laid back — hands covering his red-hot face as his voice is muffled within his palms. “Dammit… she’ll be the death of me.”

At last, you were dressed in the original outfit you had planned to wear all along. Unbeknownst to Eugene, of course. Stepping out into the lounge, you sport a pure white, long feathery dress with a floating halo attached above your head — an entirely opposite theme to the scantily clad fabric you had on just moments before.

Surely, he wouldn’t oppose to leaving with an ‘angel’.

Standing before your spiritually depleted boyfriend, you twirl around merrily before flashing him a glowing grin.

He stares for a moment before shaking his head. “No good… You’re still too cute.”

Astonished over his constant denial, you groan, “Eugene!”

“Fine… at least it won’t skyrocket my blood pressure this time.”

You stare at him as he avoids your eyes. “Your turn.”

Eugene hesitates slightly before sighing, finally grabbing the once abandoned costume. “Why do I feel played…?”

“I look stupid…” Eugene complains, his feet heavy with every step.

“No… you’re adorable!” You giggle as you excitedly skip up to Harry’s doorstep, hearing Eugene sigh for the thousandth time behind you.

Before you could even knock, Harry swings the door open. “Welcome!”

Eugene’s eyes go wide for a moment as he realises what Harry was wearing. You look back and poke your tongue out at him as he groans in defeat. Covered in red and white with a sack of presents to match, Harry gleams happily within his Santa costume. “Merry Christmas, guys!”

“Merry Christmas, Harry!” You beam back wholeheartedly.

“Yeah, yeah…” Eugene sighs once more, dreading the chaos within.

Harry gestures inside, “Come in! Everyone’s already here.”

Stepping into the warmly lit home, you’re both welcomed with an onslaught of greetings and well wishes from all around the room. Your eyes light up with joy as you reunite with the friends you now call ‘family’. Seeing everyone’s festive spirit made you feel right at home.

“HEYYY!!” Zion greets loudly from the kitchen. Stepping out into the lounge, you’re met with the brazenly exposed, half-naked redhead with a gold ribbon tied neatly around his neck. “Aww, well aren’t you guys the cutest?” Zion calls out as you break into hysterical laughter.

“…Aren’t you cold?” Eugene asks, wholly unimpressed, eyes creasing as thin as slits.

“You’re right… it DID get cold all of a sudden…” Zion wraps his arms around his bare form before looking in your direction. “(Y/N), did you HAVE to bring the snow in with you?”

“And… it starts.” Eugene mutters under his breath. Wiping the tears in the corners of your eyes, you try to question his clothing options—or lack thereof—but Eugene beats you to it. “So, what are you meant to be anyway?”

Zion’s eyes go wide with shock, dumbfounded by his simple question. “You can’t tell? Am I not a gift to your eyes?”

The room falls silent. So quiet, you could even hear the soft crackles of the flames within the fireplace.

Zion looks around the room, flabbergasted at everyone’s absent response. “I’m everyone’s Christmas present!”

“Bet you’re full of coal.” Eugene snickers.

“Only if you’ve been bad~” Zion fires back with a wink as he backs away toward the kitchen again, finger gunning the entire way back until he was out of view.

Eugene groans before sighing once more. “Today’s gonna be a long day... Can I take this off now?”

“Nooo! We need to take a family photo with everyone first!” Stopping him from unzipping himself and trying to lighten his sour mood, you nudge Eugene’s side playfully. “Come on! Everyone’s in the Christmas spirit and having fun!”

“Urgh… This is why I hate Christmas…”

You giggle at his predictable response before cheerfully waving back to Ethan and Lawrence sitting by the fire. “Ok, Scrooge. How about we say hello to everyone first and then go grab some food, sound good?”

He’ll be in a better mood after he eats.

“Fine… You know I’m only putting up with this ‘cause I love you, right?”

“I know.” Leaning up on your toes, you give Eugene a quick peck on his cheek. “Thank you, Eugene.”

“Yeah…” He murmurs, scratching the back of his golden tresses awkwardly.

Standing by the dining table filled with traditionally festive dishes, you lovingly feed spoonful’s of pudding to your now content boyfriend. For once, he wasn’t complaining about being here or feeling defensive over his attire. He began to actually enjoy himself as he caught up with everyone.

Well… That was until Zion came back to set down some eggnog on the table.

Coming up beside you, Zion looks toward Eugene before letting out a giant sneeze… a fake one of course. But it was enough to bring Eugene’s mood back to square one.

“WHY DON’T YOU JUST PUT A SHIRT ON, YOU FUCKING NARCISSIST?!”

“Man… the winter breeze sure is howling loud today!” Zion effortlessly ignores him as he snakes an arm around your shoulders. “You know, (Y/N)… since it’s so cold here, I heard that an easy way to warm ourselves is to cuddle each other while being stark nake-”

Before he could finish his sentence, with lightning fast reflexes, Eugene swipes a plastic butter knife from the table and places it by Zion’s cheek. His eyes now dark with murderous intent, voice seething in malice. “Hands.Off.My.Girlfriend.”

Zion immediately takes his hands off of you and raises them up as a sign of mercy. “Whoa… Chill, bro.”

“Ayeee~” Judy chimes in as she reaches out her hand for a synchronised fist bump with the proud redhead.

“Pfft-” Failing to stifle your chuckle, you go into an uncontrollable fit of laughter again, having way too much fun from everyone’s shenanigans.

Eugene snaps his head toward you, a look of utter betrayal in his expression. “Really, (Y/N)? That joke got you too?”

“I’m s-sorry… The timing… was perfect!” You manage to say as you clutch your stomach, giving in to the giggles.

About ready to burn his costume at this point, Eugene barks out, “CAN WE TAKE THIS DAMN PICTURE ALREADY?!”

Now cozy in their everyday clothes—after the chaotic madness of capturing the perfect group photo—the mood was tranquil as everyone chatted amongst themselves.

A moment of calm washed over the both of you as you sat comfortably within Eugene’s embrace by the roaring fire. A glass of warm eggnog within your palms, Eugene rested his chin within the curve of your neck — drained from the constant torment.

“Finally… Zion can leave me alone with his lame ass dad jokes now.”

Feeling somewhat responsible and guilty for putting your boyfriend through such turmoil, you decide to sneakily lead him away to a place that Harry secretly set up for you.

“What are you planning now?” Eugene’s eyebrow raises, underlying skepticism within his voice as you slip away from the party.

Spotting the hanging mistletoe in the hallway ahead, you eagerly drag Eugene over and situate him right underneath.

“OK! Now, look up!”

Eyes raising toward the ceiling before settling back on your expectant gaze, he smirks roguishly, “If you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just asked.”

Is it too cliché?

Suddenly feeling horrified by how enthusiastic you were, you cover your rosy cheeks with your palms and attempt to run off. “You’re right! This is dumb!”

“Hey!” Eugene protests as he hastily grabs you by the hand and gently pulls you into his arms, chuckling as he witnesses your bashful demeanour. “It’s only fair if I get to tease you a little too…”

His hand reaches up to caress your cheek, thumb gliding over your mouth as it lingers upon your soft lips. Leaning in close, his hot breath inches from your skin, he whispers, “How are you so adorable?”

Without a moment of hesitation, your eyelids flutter to a close — anticipating the warmth of his lips pressed upon yours.

Just as you were about to close the gap however, a wolf whistle echoes from the end of the hall.

Both taken aback by surprise, you turn your heads to witness a sneering Zion leaning against the wall… watching in amusement. “Oh, ho ho~ Be careful, (Y/N). If this gets any steamier, Olaf over here will melt away!”

Your face burns with embarrassment having been caught in the act of such a lovey-dovey scene. Infuriated by his interruption, Eugene blows up in rage for the... how many times today? You seem to have lost count at this point.

“SERIOUSLY, ZION! DO YOU EVER SHUT UP?! I’M NOT EVEN WEARING THAT STUPID COSTUME ANYMORE!”

Waving his hand indifferently in dismissal, Zion wanders off, dusting his hands like he had just completed a job well done.

“God, he’s so irritating! How is he everywhere?!” Eugene grumbles as he massages his temples with his fingers.

“Even I’m starting to get annoyed now.” You admit, your eyes falling into aggravated slits at Zion’s retreating form.

“We should have never come…” Eugene pouts, his expression reminding you of a provoked cat.

Cute...

You wrap your arms around him, hoping to calm him again. You hear him sigh in frustration as he returns your embrace before nuzzling his face into your (h/c) locks. “You know he only teases out of love, right?”

He scoffs at the thought.

Taking his hand in yours, you smile knowingly. “Plus, you don’t need to hide it, I know you enjoyed seeing everyone again.”

His attention shifts to the side, avoiding your gaze as his cheeks grow a subtle blush. “Whatever.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his innocent response.

“Anyways…” He trails off as his fingers delicately lift your chin upwards. “The only love I need is yours.”

Leaning down a second time, Eugene’s gentle lips press together with yours. Fitting together as perfect as a puzzle, you gasp lightly as he hugs you tighter.

His scent was... reminiscent of faint firewood.

His lips... tasting of subtle hints of cinnamon.

Every part of him consumed your senses.

As he grips your chin eagerly, your mouth parts immediately as if by instinct — welcoming his intoxicating tongue.

Contrary to what Zion believed, Eugene’s kiss left your body melting under his every touch.

As your lips part ways with his, Eugene’s eyes were met with your fervent gaze — his eyebrows furrowing in response. “Can we go home now?”

Misunderstanding his intentions, you fail to hide your sadness. “You hated the party that much?”

“It’s not that… It was good to see everyone. But, I just… wanna spend some time with you now, (Y/N)…”

“O-Oh…Okay.” You stutter. He wasn’t usually this forward or honest, and it left you feeling a little shy. The prior hours, as you dragged on your stay, made you somewhat apologetic toward him. “I’m sorry for making you wear that costume.”

His eyes go wide before smiling warmly. “It’s fine… as long as you had fun.”

A bubbly grin on your face, you beam, “I did! Thank you, Eugene!”

Eugene chuckles quietly in response as he ruffles your hair. “Anyways, I guess it was worth it.” He then clears his throat uncomfortably. “…You looked beautiful today.”

“Only today?” You question; your tone, playful.

Eyes closing from exhaustion due to everyone’s constant lively energy, he sighs deeply as he rests his forehead against yours. “Give me a break already… You know what I mean.”

Tittering softly, you slowly nod against him.

“Don’t even start me on that lacy shit you had on this morning…” Eugene then looks up abruptly, confusion clear on his handsome features. “Wait… You tricked me! What was that outfit for anyway? Harry was Santa…”

Giggling radiantly at the memory of your prank, you reply, “It’s a gift!”

Eugene’s eyebrows raise in curiosity before you leaned closer to clarify, “But only for your eyes…”

“Ah…” Eugene places a hand on his mouth, turning his face toward the wall and averting his gaze — hiding the faint blush upon his skin.

He then clears his throat again before looking at you in a suspicious stare. “You’re not gonna chase me around again and say you bought it for me to wear, are you?”

Although you found the idea quite tempting, you smile sincerely. “I think I’ve teased you enough for one day.”

“Good.”

Taking your hand in his, he leads you away from the mistletoe and out of the halls. Pink hues decorate your cheeks as you anticipate a festive night, spent only in the arms of one another.

x luna

#dangerous fellows #dangerous fellows christmas event #fluff #dfel #dangerous fellows fanfic #dfel fanfic #dangerous fellows eugene #dfel eugene #eugene x reader #character x reader #reader fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic blog #dangerous fellows fanfiction #dfel fanfiction

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thebladeblaster · 3 years

Text

Rebirth of A Samurai (Part 3)

Summary: This fic is a what if scenario to SMT4 Apocalypse. I would go into more detail, but I don’t want to spoil too much of what this fic entails. If this fic gains traction I may continue the story on from this one-shot. Warning: This is a long one.

This may be the last I write for awhile with college right around the corner. I won’t stop completely, but it will become a lot slower.

“Shhh...don’t say that Flynn is supposed to be having a nice dream.”, Flynn’s mother said.

“Who the fuck are you? Your not my mother she might have been controlling and overbearing, but she had a good heart. She was never a colossal bitch even to Issachar.”, Walter questioned.

“Your mother? Are you Flynn’s…? No he’s not he’s...we’re...I-I’m not Issachar!”, Issachar said.

“What are you saying of course your Issachar!”, Not-Flynn’s mother said.

“No, I’m not Issachar! And their not Jonathan, Walter, and Isabeau! We’re the fifth son, Flynn Alexander!”, Not-Issachar rebuked.

The prentices eyes widened.

“I’m not…? I’m not Jonathan?”, not-Jonathan questioned.

“Think! Do you know your parents' names? What’s the first thing that springs to your mind? How about where you live?”, not-Issachar questioned.

“I-I...Why am I imagining…? Wait, I don’t know where Jonathan lives. I've never been there. Not even before or after he became Merkabah I just never had time to.”, not-Jonathan said.

“Merkabah? Why does that…? That’s right Jonathan became Merkabah and Walter became Lucifer! I fought them!”, not-Isabeau said as her eyes widened.

“Hoy?! What are you guys...Wait I fought Merkabah too but I didn’t fight Lucifer I helped him!”, not-Walter said.

“That’s right, we're the fifth son. You who looks like Jonathan you chose preservation. You who looks like Walter you chose upheaval. You who looks like Isabeau you chose neutrality. And I who looks like Issachar...I chose to unmake the world. I chose nihilism.”, not-Issachar revealed, after he did there was an audible crack in seemingly reality.

“Hoy, that means there’s a version of me that chose law? Ah gross…”, Not-Walter said.

“The feeling is mutual.”, Not-Jonathan said with disgust in his eyes looking at not-Walter.

“No wonder I thought you guys really were Jonathan and Walter. You sure butt heads like they eventually did.”, Not-Isabeau responded with a light chuckle.

Not-Flynn’s mom’s eyes were shadowed as the world around them went silent. Everyone around them froze in place before turning on them.

“You shouldn’t be here, interlopers.”, Not-Flynn’s mom said.

“I know we shouldn’t normally. Our memories of the previous cycle’s are usually mostly dormant in our subconscious, but you’re tampering with the current Flynn’s mind has called us here, Krishina!”, Not-Issachar explained.

A demonic smile identical to the one on Flynn’s face when he was possessed appeared on not-Flynn’s mom’s face. He dropped the disguise revealing himself as Krishina.

“Get away from us! I mean Flynn! I mean stop!”, Not-Issachar said as he pulled a samurai said as he pulled out a samurai sword from thin air and the others drew theirs.

Flynn's past lives memories were normally kept in his subconscious to prevent them from driving him insane. They are basically the embodiment of his memories of those past lives. He remembers they awakened when Krishna started messing with the current Flynn’s mind. They were awakened to stop him from turning him into a mindless puppet. However, when then entered the illusion their minds were tampered with like the current Flynn’s made to believe they were other people so Flynn didn’t instantly realize something was wrong. He could tell by looking in Flynn’s eyes those times. He was slowly losing his own will. He could feel he was dangerously close to losing what’s left of it. That’s why Krishna had so much power in his mind now. He created this illusion after his fellow Divine Powers tortured him for days to break him.

“My kalki is almost ready for our fight with YHVH and I’m afraid I don’t have much time for you since I’m dealing with another interloper right now. Let’s see if you can defeat your own mind. Well I won’t but...well see you later kalkis.”, Krishna said before disappearing.

“Pfft! Is this the best you can do Krishna? You should know better than to underestimate the king of Tokyo! I can beat this entire village alone!”, Not-Walter boasted.

As if Krishna heard him, demons, angels , gods, and even humans appeared from all around them. Every single person or creature they had ever fought throughout the cycles was here, even the likes of Lucifer, Merkabah, Ancient of Days, Sanat, and Masakado.

“You just had to say that didn’t you?”, Not-Jonathan questioned, with a priceless look on his face.

“Aww man...this is gonna be awesome!”, Not-Walter said.

Not-Jonathan’s eyebrow twitched incredulously.

“How in YHVH’s name did I become you?”, Not-Jonathan questioned in complete disgust.

“You probably got sick of that pole up your ass and decided to actually live a little in your next life.”, Not-Walter replied.

“Simmer down guys, we gotta work together for now. Even if it’s just a temporary truce.”, Not-Isabeau said getting between the two.

“For now, after all it would be a tragedy if I was forced to fight my lord.”, Not-Jonathan replied.

“Your lord is the reason we’re in this freaky time loop. But, I guess I’ll tolerate your high strungness for a bit longer. I’d hate to lose my free will.”, Not-Walter replied.

“Just uh wow…”, Not-Issachar said, amazed to see how extreme some of his other selves were.

“I guess this is what we would have been like had we fallen into ‘monolithic extremes’ as Isabeau called it. But, now is not the time for that, the people need us.”, Not-Isabeau said.

“Uh yeah…!”, Not-Issachar replied, feeling awkward since he chose nihilism.

Even now not-Issachar regretted his cowardice in choosing that choice. Unlike the other Flynn’s he did fervently believe in the path he chose.

They called upon their own demons from their respective cycles. Not-Walter rushed into a horde of demons with reckless abandon, slicing them into bits. Not-Jonathan swiftly beheaded Hope without any emotion. He then stayed back observing their enemies and exploiting their weaknesses. Not-Isabeau used Antichthon which was effective against basically everything, vaporizing low to mid and even some lower high tier demons instantly. For those it didn’t it lowered their overall performance crippling their offense and defense. Not-Issachar rushed to Flynn now that Krishna was nowhere in sight. However as he did he was stopped by his dad.

Not-Issachar froze facing his father still remembering finding his mangled form on that fateful day.

“Sorry dad.”, Not-Issachar apologized, before instantly vaporizing him with Antichthon.

He looked all over for Flynn before finding him unconscious. He ran over to him, shaking him awake. Not-Issachar looked relieved as he started to stir.

“Issachar?”, Flynn questioned sleepily.

That relief faded when he felt a sword get thrust through his chest. He knew that was a bit too easy. What he did expect was for him to transform into a giant fiery snake.

“I-I don’t remember that happening?! It must have been Krishna. You're a decoy.”, Not-Issachar said.

“I am Shesha. I fooled you like I fooled your little dim witted Tokyo.”, Not-Flynn said.

“You did what…”, Shesha nearly flinched when he heard the low angered tone of Not-Isabeau.

He could practically feel the anger radiating off her umm...him? Well he was Isabeau right now kinda. Anyway, Not-Isabeau practically launched herself at Shesha. They flew through the building creating a massive hole in the house.

“Then where’s Flynn?”, Not-Issachar questioned.

He looked around the remains of the house and ran through the battlefield making sure to punch Tayama when he saw him. Throughout the carnage he noticed a calm spot like the eye of a storm. That was it he rush through to see an unconscious Flynn guarded by Odin, Maitreya, and Great Innana. They haven’t personally fought them like Shesha so this was more of Krishna’s manipulation. His demons came to his side Quetzalcoatl, Tiamat, and Orochi. He was having a tougher time than the others due to having weaker demons since his cycle ended prematurely. He was able to defeat Innanna and greatly wound Matrieya, but he was tiring and Odin killed off his demons.

“Heh, despite not being the first, you're definitely the weakest incarnation of our godslayer.”, Odin taunted as he prepared to finish him off.

He closed his eyes as Odin thrust his spear forward and a loud crackle of lightning rippled through the air.

“Odin! You bastard, you embarrassed my current self by knocking him out and kidnapping him! I’m going to tear your head off like I did to the Odin of my cycle!”, Not-Walter yelled as he jumped out from a horde of dead demons and launched himself at Odin like a madman.

Odin was too low to turn his attention to not-Walter as he was nailed in the gut by Deadly Wind. He gasped in pain, flinching and dropping his spear as not-Walter smiled devilishly. Matrieya tried to attack but not-Walter grabbed his face and vaporized him with Antichthon.

“Hoy, get up Flynn!”, Not-Walter said as he kicked the unconscious Flynn much to not-Issachar’s horror.

He cringed as he heard Flynn wince.

“Argh!!! Walter stop! Wait Walter? How do I know your name?”, Flynn questioned.

“Because none of this is real and you’ve gotta get your ass up and kick the shit out of that fedora wearing god!”, Not-Walter explained poorly.

“I-I what?!”, Flynn questioned, reasonably confused.

Not-Issachar tried to explain the situation to Flynn properly, leaving out anything about his past lives letting him believe they were just versions of his friends created by his mind. Reasonably Flynn looked shocked and skeptical, but he also saw Kiccigiori was now a massive battleground full of demons, angels, gods, and humans.

“T-there’s no way it c-can’t…”, Flynn mumbled, tears forming in his eyes looking around at the battle.

“Tough shit! That’s the truth Flynn! Our family is dead, Issachar’s dead, Jonathan’s dead, Walter’s dead and now Isabeau!”, Not-Walter said harshly.

Flynn stepped back looking incredibly shaken to his core.

“Have some tact!”, Not-Issachar yelled at not-Walter.

“We don’t have time for tact! He has to man up and wake the fuck up now or we’re done for good!”, Not-Walter yelled back angrily.

Flynn’s head hung low, covered by his bangs. Not-Issachar put a reassuring hand on Flynn’s shoulder.

“It may seem all dark now, but don’t give into despair like I did.”, Not-Issachar told him.

“You can’t go Flynn! You have to stay here with us! That’s what you want right Flynn? That’s what you always wanted! You never wanted to make the tough decisions! You just wanted to be a follower!”, another Not-Flynn’s mom said with another fake version of his dad by her side.

Tears fell from Flynn's face as he met his fake mom’s gaze. She opened up her arms to welcome him. Flynn shook, walking over to their side.

“You can’t be serious! You're even weaker than that quitter over there!”, Not-Walter roared in rage.

“I’m sorry…”, Flynn apologized quietly.

“Flynn…”, Not-Issachar murmured, sinking his head in defeat.

“...Mom...Dad...But there's nothing left for me here. You guys are dead, so is Issachar, and the village is in tatters. I let myself fall victim to this illusion because I wanted it to be real. I wanted your deaths to all be a horrible nightmare, but it’s not. It’s real and because I bought into this illusion more people...people I was supposed to protect are dead. I have to go back.”, Flynn said, with a steely resolve turning from his fake parents.

“No! Don’t abandon us again! I didn’t raise you to be heartless man who would walk out on his own family!”, his fake father yelled.

“Kiss our ass Krishna!”, Not-Walter yelled back smugly, flaunting Odin’s decapitated head as a trophy as Flynn walked towards them slowly picking up speed.

His clothes started to flicker out from his peasant garb to his samurai garb. Suddenly everything went white.

“Haha! He has spoken! You have now regained your right to create a world messiah Flynn! Let’s see if you fight to keep that right!”, the voice from his dream at the beginning of his adventure said.

When he reopened his eyes he saw a familiar teen with a half shaved head of brown hair and eerie glowing green eyes. He wore a green jumpsuit and had glowing green celtic tattoos, Nanashi. By his side were his own demons Anubis, Shiva, and his own Odin. It seemed he was in the middle of battle with him. He felt the weight of a pink lotus in his hands making him realize he was transformed like before. He was doubled over as Nanashi prepared to strike him down.

“Isabeau...what happened to Isabeau?”, he asked.

“Huh? Why are you asking, didn't I tell you, Krishna?”, Nanashi asked.

Vishnu-Flynn’s eyes were shadowed as he asked and Dadga’s eyes widened in realization.

“Wait there kid!”, Dadga tried to warn in his odd accent.

“I killed her like I did to the others before facing you. Heh, she called out Flynn’s name till the end. She was just another useless bitch like Asahi.”, Nanashi taunted, thinking he’d won.

He didn’t fully mean that he felt a bit bad about killing the others after everything, especially after actually carrying out their deaths, but it was far too late to turn back now.

“Heh, he’s shaking. Krishna must be scared now knowing I beat the others.”, Nanashi thought.

Honestly the whole point of telling him of his betrayal was meant to intimidate him. After all, he knew his former friends weren’t complete slouches. To be fair he died a few times fighting them. He killed them because he knew they would oppose the path he took.

However, Vishnu-Flynn was not shaking from fear...it was unbridled rage. The entire area around them was filled with a powerful aura of bloodlust. Nanashi was going to swing down at him with Masakado’s katana, but he couldn’t feel his arm. He looked over only to gaping in horror when he saw his hand had been severed without him even noticing. His hand still holding the katana stabbed into the ground behind him. Nanashi’s eyes widened in absolute shock.

“You fucked up there kid. That’s not Krishna.”, Dadga said.

Before he could even react his body his head was cut clean off by Vishnu-Flynn’s next strike. Nanashi tried to bite back the intense pain circulating throughout him. Normally no one would know the pain of their head being severed due to dying instantly, but since Nanashi was immortal he felt all of it and he howled in pain.

“You!!! How dare you! I saved you! I trusted you! And you killed one of the only people I had left!”, Vishnu-Flynn roared full of venom.

He stood up to his full towering height with two new detached arms and four new red laser swords.

“Ah, Flynn! He’s Flynn. Did he have to go for my head?”, Nanashi thought as his body started to regrow itself.

Nanashi gasped in pain as he was torn apart by Vishnu-Flynn’s blades again before he could regrow his body fully. A loud crackle of thunder slammed down at Vishnu-Flynn which he blocked with his swords. Which hummed only powered up by the lightning. He turned his attention to Nanashi’s demons. He dodged a Mamudoon launched by Anubis. He swiped his arms not releasing his full magical power which was dormant while under Krishna’s control and used Antichthon on Anubis nearly vaporizing him on the spot and severely crippling him. He finished off the god with a single strike to his blade. Shiva launched himself at him and the two were locked in a dangerous dance of blades. Shiva was skilled certainly, known as the destroyer in the polytheistic religion he was technically apart of right now as Vishnu-Flynn. However, Flynn was very very pissed off. When he was pissed off he didn’t slip up no...he became more skilled and more merciless in combat. Besides he’s already fought Shiva before and he knows the way he fights. Vishnu-Flynn turned the tide against Shiva putting him on the back burner as Odin tried to shoot lightning at him.

Dadga gaped genuinely impressed as Vishnu-Flynn danced around Odin’s lightning and fought Shiva at the same time. The difference between Flynn and Krishna fighting was like the difference between Heaven and Earth. Krishna certainly wasn’t a slouch, but he was primarily a schemer who used what most would consider more underhanded tactics and trickery to win fights. Flynn however was a godslayer in every meaning of the world. Dadga felt he truly understood what exactly made someone a godslayer when he saw Flynn fight. Flynn reacted to and attacked on pure instinct like a demon. However, he attacked with the skill and precision of a human. His skill in question was truly staggering on the level of no...even surpassing the best warrior gods as he was completely overpowering and nearly toying with Nanashi’s demons.

He finished healing up his godslayer who took a deep inhale as his body finally reformed after being mangled badly by Vishnu-Flynn. Nanashi tried to regain his bearings and prepared to attack Vishnu-Flynn. It took much longer and was much more draining for Dadga than usual because usually not as much of Nanashi had to be healed when he revived him. Usually the kid might get stabbed in the heart, decapitated, or even instant killed, but those weren’t as hard for him to fix.

“That man is a real monster.”, Dadga thought, feeling nervous for the first time he started his campaign to kill all the gods and recreate the universe.

This man didn’t have the ability to revive as he pleased and he was merely a human. Well...he wasn’t right now, but he usually was. At least Krishna had good taste that’s exactly why he planned to steal his godslayer from him.

Vishnu-Flynn dodged Odin’s spear strike causing him to pierce Shiva. With a swipe of his hands Vishu-Flynn obliterated the two with Shine More like Anubis not even leaving a trace behind for Nanashi to revive. Nanashi concentrated and launched a Deadly Wind at Vishnu-Flynn. More demons had replaced his fallen ones: Great Innanna, Isanami, and Xi Wangmu.

Vishnu-Flynn dodged his attack shot forward faster than Nanashi could comprehend and sliced him into bits again this time using Dark Nandaka on his bits. His demons turned to Vishnu-Flynn completely stunned at his speed. Before Great Innanna could even act she was decapitated. Xi Wangmu shot a Ziodyne at him which he easily dodged before cleaving both her and Izanami into bits. With a swipe on his hands he vaporized their remains with Shine More.

Fear grew within Dagda as Nanashi hadn’t even fully regrown himself before Flynn slashed him into bits mercilessly. He knew Nanashi didn’t have many demons left to use and Flynn was killing all of them permanently. His slashes grew so fast all Dagda saw was a storm of blades. Before that he could count about 10000 strikes per millisecond, but now all he saw was a blur. He was killing Nanashi faster than he could revive him. Dadga had a hard time keeping track of if Nanashi was dead or alive since he died so fast.

Krishna was extremely pleased. While his kalki had broken free of his contract he was now completely embarrassing Nanashi and his forces which gave him no small amount of satisfaction. As well as having a front row seat to the true magnificence of his kalki. He was content to sit back and let his godslayer do the work in killing Nanashi. Of course, there was the obvious problem that he was no longer in control of Flynn, but he could fix that in time. For all he knows Flynn can go ahead and kill YHVH while he’s at it, then he can swoop in at the right time, steal control, and achieve salvation. So, yeah Krishna was pretty content sitting back and munching on imaginary popcorn while his kalki went berserk.

Dadga was sweating now as he was greatly drained by how many times he had to revive Nanashi in this fight alone. When he told his godslayer he could die as many times as he wanted he was joking. He never thought he would actually have to revive him this much consecutively against anyone besides YHVH. Dagda was a god, but even he had his limits. A limit he was dangerously close to hitting. Even his reserves weren’t infinite.

Nanashi hardly had a second to think before he was continuously violently torn apart by the man his more naive self once idolized. He had time to feel though. Absolute horror and terror. He had honestly thought he was up to Flynn’s level by now after all he’s killed many gods, demons, and angels at this point. Confident he could beat him if Krishna happened to seduce him to his cause like Dadga to him. Defeating his former friends and beating down Vishnu-Flynn only further bolstered his confidence that he was truly unbeatable. However, he now realized how completely wrong he was. He had never been anywhere near Flynn’s level. He was beating down Vishnu-Flynn because that fop with a flute was in control, not the true Flynn. He had his power no...not even all of that he swore when he sensed his magic power earlier it had nearly doubled. Though, that may be because how enraged Flynn currently was. His intense rage may be boosting his magic to ridiculous heights. Finally, his skill...was absolutely monstrous. He thought Isabeau and Gaston were pretty good, but this man was on a completely different dimension of skill from the both of them. He wasn’t exactly educated in such things, honestly he relied more on magic than anything, but he understood that he was kicking his ass worse than anything has in his whole life with freaking swords alone. He shuttered from deep within his soul with unparalleled fear. He wasn’t sure he could get out of this especially since he didn’t look like he was tiring. Tiring was an easy thing for someone like him to exploit. He was basically a zombie so he never got exhausted and Dadga healed his wounds upon death. Stamina and his immortality was his overwhelming advantage against everyone he faced. However, now he was honestly cursing it. This is what he imagined hell was like continuously dying infinitely and instantly with absolutely nothing he could do to get out of it. For an immortal like him this is exactly what hell was like. This was one of the best arguments against having immortality, endless suffering.

A deeper part of him...Akira shuttered in horror at the sight...no the very idea of Flynn’s rampage. What had he done to Ryou? He wasn’t like this. Ryou was always a kind, gentle soul. He was skilled, yes, but not to this...to such an inhuman degree. He remembered how Ryou would feel bad about even killing demons. He was a complete wreck after killing Kiyoharu and Kenji to stop their insane plans. He most certainly wasn’t ever the type to anger. He was more often than not a mediator between the more hot-headed members of the Counter-Demon Force. For such a kind, loving soul to be reduced to this blind bloodlusted demonic rage...It broke Akira’s heart to see his dear friend like this. Any sense of mercy and kindness was gone from the eyes of his incarnation replaced with anger and bloodlust. He still remembered the day he lost him. The day he sacrificed himself not unlike his current incarnation did to save Asahi. He knew then that he was truly his old friend reborn. But now that was all gone...Because of his own actions he turned Ryou into this monster before him. He unsealed Krishna who stole him away and merged with him. He made him completely snap by killing that girl Isabeau. He felt the worst chill down his spine when he heard Vishnu-Flynn start to chuckle. He was enjoying this?! The pure hearted self sacrificing idiot Ryou was enjoying this?!

“What the fuck have I done?”, Akira thought in complete horror from deep within Nanashi.

“Ryou! Ryou! Stop, please! Snap out of this! This isn’t you!”, Akira begged his voice cracking as he did so, knowing full well he couldn’t hear his begging.

No no someone had to stop him before he completely lost his humanity.

Flynn was beyond being enraged that word hardly encapsulated the fire he felt from within his soul. Even before all of this he had lost so many people close to him, his parents and Issachar. He still remembered the deep horror he felt when he realized...he killed his own mother without even realizing it. Once that guy apologized about not being able to help his parents his mind went completely blank. He killed every demon in his way without an ounce of mercy as he desperately searched for them. He didn’t know that one of the camazotzs was his mother. He didn’t know any of the demons in the forest were his fellow villagers at that point. When he found out he completely broke down. It was difficult to hide from the others he had to put on his own iron mask so they didn’t see him completely break down. He realized it when he finally found his father. He was still human, a bit mangled and in serious need of medical attention, but he was alive. But, then his hopes were completely dashed…

Flashback

It was after their first encounter with the black samurai, Lilith. Extreme relief entered his eyes when he saw one of the medics had his father. His fellows were off to themselves right now. He practically ran over to him when he saw him hope that his mother may be alive too bubbled up inside him. He didn’t expect his father. His strong, loving father to look absolutely terrified when he saw him. He was extremely confused when his father jumped back squirming away from the doctor when he saw him. That’s when he knew something was horribly wrong. He looked over his uniform checking for blood which may have spooked him. He gasped when he realized he had quite a lot on him. How did he not notice? He was just so focused he completely blotted out everything else.

“W-wait dad I can explain-“, He stuttered.

“S-stay away from me! Y-you turned into a-a m-monster like your mother did didn’t y-you?! Y-you here to finish me off!”, his father accused completely hysterical.

“M-my mother?! Mom...she….”, He muttered before he completely froze.

He pulled out a wooden sword guard shaped not unlike a flower from his pocket. It was badly worn, cracked, and had blood spattered on it. He recognized it as the one from the toy sword his mother made from him which he used to use to spar with Issachar. His mother may have disliked his friend, but she acknowledged that Flynn as a kid needed a friend to play with. Despite her distaste she made that toy sword full of love hoping he’d have lots of fun with it. He found it after he killed a demon which at the time confused him. He remembered the demon rushing up to him, but it wasn’t attacking strangely. He was too out of it though...when he fought he entered this state where he completely lost control over himself...He was just fighting blindly not thinking of anything else. He had no idea how it happened...it just did. He remembers coldly cutting down the demon that approached him without remorse. Thinking about it now he felt deeply sickened and revulsed by himself. Especially after realizing only now he was covered in blood. This feeling only worsened when he put two and two together.

That demon was his mother. He killed his mother.

He felt extremely lightheaded and nauseous now. His breathing became extremely heavy. His eyes widened at the realization.

“Ah! Ah!”, he gasped in complete horror.

He felt like he was about to have a panic attack as he clutched chest. He shook uncontrollably, hardly able to form coherent words as he imagined his mother’s warm smile. The doctor looked alarmed hearing the incoherent distressed noises he was making. For the first time he felt his soul wail. He completely collapsed on the ground. His father was right, he was a monster. He killed his own mother!

Flashback end

His father was deemed to be under demonic possession and had an exorcism performed on him which killed him. He wasn’t possessed, he was driven insane by seeing the woman he loved turn into a demon and thought the same thing happened to his son when he came over to him covered in blood! He killed Issachar too; he begged him to do so, but he didn’t want to lead his best friend to only suffer more. Then, Jonathan and Walter he knew they were dead from his illusionary Walter’s words. He still wishes he could have done something like awaken them from inside the beings that stole their bodies. However, he couldn’t they died as Lucifer and Merkabah twisted embodiments of their ideals. Isabeau...He didn’t kill her directly, but it was his fault she died. If he had woken up sooner rather than letting himself fall prey to Krishna’s illusion he could have saved her. No he should have never let himself be captured by the Divine Powers! He should have found another way to save Asahi and escape...Everything that has happened over these past few days, everyone who died because of the Divine Powers and Nanashi, they were all on his hands. H-he felt like he was close to snapping a morbid chuckle was coming from his lips as he tore Nanashi apart. Surely he didn’t deserve this even with the horrible things he’s done. He was just a kid, for all he knew that being that made him like this manipulated him into doing all this.

A deep part of Flynn...Ryou didn’t want to believe Akira would do something so horrible. Surely not? It had to be a mistake. Akira would never do something so heartless…right? But...Kiyoharu and Kenji did. They were his best friends since childhood he knew them so well yet they changed into something unrecognizable from their former selves. Then, they committed horrible atrocities for what they believed in before he struck them down himself. He personally saw through Flynn’s eyes the horrible words he would have created if he sided with them. Even that deep part of him didn’t seem sure of anything anymore. Nothing seemed to work. He remembers more than Flynn does. He remembers his past lives where he followed four different paths. He despised most of them except the third path, the neutral path which for some odd reason was going very differently in this cycle. He chose that third path again, but it seems like everything has only gotten worse for some reason. If Flynn didn’t wake up sooner then everything...everything he had fought for, sacrificed himself for would be gone. He knew more than Flynn, he could see Krishna’s memories; he knew the depravity of Dadga’s selfish plan. It was...Childish. He understood defeating YHVH, but that’s where it ended. Destroying the entire world, the world people had out there heart and soul into bettering and protecting just because you wanted the world to be ‘your’ ideal it was...beyond selfish. That plan spat on all the hard work and sacrifices humanity has made to better their world. Krishna wasn’t a saint either; he was nearly just as bad with his forced salvation plan. At least he had some love for humanity...even if it was twisted. But, Dadga’s plan was undoubtedly worse. This foolish god seriously believed that all a person needed was themselves. That’s completely wrong for a god of knowledge he sure didn’t know much. Humans were social creatures by nature; they needed each other to survive. No one is perfect and his world would be undoubtedly polluted by his own biases and cruel beliefs. Besides how was Ryou supposed to honestly believe that someone willing to sacrifice their allies and even the whole universe was going to be a more benevolent ruler than YHVH? He already was like YHVH, manipulating and sacrificing people for his own ends. They were exactly the same...It would be the same cruel world YHVH created just with a new face in control. It completely tore him up that Akira was actually a part of this depraved plan. He wanted to cling onto the idea he was manipulated and controlled but...He remembers destroying Tokyo he sacrificed himself for with his own hands alongside the angels. He remembers filling the world with demons and ruling over the hell on Earth he created. He remembers unmaking the world in a moment of weakness. He made these same horrible mistakes and he did those same horrible atrocities as the others. He had become the same if not worse than them.

Ryou still wanted to forgive, but he could hardly forgive even himself anymore. He felt bad for his current self; he was just as distressed and confused as he was, except he didn’t fully understand why. Despite his past lives memories being locked up he still had feelings and echoes of those lives within himself. From his law cycle he had obtained the ability to completely shut everything else out and focus on a singular goal no matter how depraved. His magic power had carried over and growled continuously stronger with every cycle. His inhuman level of sword skill was also for that life mostly from strangely after his death. After his death he became an angel for a confusing amount of time not even he was sure how long. Something that still deeply revulsed him. He remembers having a divine sword then YHVH gave him. Honestly, he didn’t remember the name, but honestly he just wanted to forget any of that happened. He became YHVH’s sword, cutting down anything that opposed him, even fellow messiahs for other worlds. He understood it was a long time, but he wasn’t sure how long than his ‘forgiving’ god shoved him back into the cycle he decided on as his punishment for saving Tokyo from his wrath as soon as he was done with him. Unbelievable...If there’s one being he truly hated it was YHVH. From his chaos cycle he gained the ability to completely give into his instincts and battle using instinct alone. Along with that rage he didn’t remember having. That alone has caused many troubles for the current Flynn especially what’s...currently transpiring. It even affected him. Making him go completely berserk at times if he felt really angry or got too into a battle. Without that cycle he would have never...Not even in his law cycle enjoyed hurting others. The king of Tokyo enjoyed a lot of things he disagreed with because he didn’t care. His heart had been turned rotten by Lucifer and he stopped caring about anyone, but himself. Honestly, his nihilism cycle didn’t contribute much, but his revulsion with his previous cycles unknowingly affected Flynn’s decision in that cycle to unmake the world. From his neutral cycle he combined his law cycle’s skill with his chaos cycle’s instinct to create a deadly combination in battle. He didn’t have as much time to refine his combat as his law cycle, but he still did improve it in the lifetime he had along with his magic like his other cycles. That first time he chose neutral was the happiest one that he hoped would stick; however, that hope was dashed when after a long and fulfilled life he woke back up at Lake Mikado again. However , that life influenced this Flynn to choose neutral again. He guessed he was still trapped because YHVH wasn’t done with him yet. He suspects YHVH wasn’t happy with him having an enjoyable cycle even if it wasn’t perfect. So, this time things changed he was prevented from removing the firmament and he was captured by the Divine Powers. Now, Akira was trying to destroy the world he once defended like he did. He could practically imagine YHVH laughing in his face while they killed each other.

“Please stop this Akira! We shouldn’t be fighting each other! Please forgive him Flynn! I know you’re hurting I can feel your pain! Please!”, Ryou begged, sobbing uncontrollably.

A less forgiving part of him couldn’t help but take pleasure in tearing Nanashi to shreds. He is the one who killed Isabeau, the last of his original prentice group. His heart hurt more than he expected when she was killed. He was the one who released Krishna and put him into this whole mess. He...He!

“Kill him! Kill him! Make him regret ruining things for us!”, that angered voice in his mind said which reminded him of the illusionary Walter.

#shin megami tensei #smt4 #smt4 apocalypse #flynn smt #issachar #walter smt #isabeau smt #jonathan smt #my crappy writing #avoiding some tags to prevent spoilers

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horrorlad · 3 years

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Horrorlad Reviews: The Dentist (1996)

Or at least, like, talks about it a bunch.

Boy was I overthinking my first real Horror Lad post! It was going to be Grave Encounters, but that will have to wait, because I got insomnia and decided to rewatch a movie I hadn’t seen seen since I was 14, which wound up being the perfect opportunity to write out a post!

Let’s talk about The Dentist!

So, The Dentist is a 1996 movie starring Corbin Bernsen. It was directed by Brian Yuzna (one of the producers of Re-Animator, he also directed the 1989 body horror film Society which I haven’t seen, though a cursory image search tells me I need to add to my watch list immediately).

Anyway, The Dentist is about a teethsman who catches his wife giving some other guy a BJ and gets so grossed out about it that he has a nervous breakdown about, uh, how dirty mouths are, I guess? He loses his absolute shit (though he didn’t seem to have it all that together to begin with; this guy’s Jack Torrance is way more Kubrick than King), and we the audience get to tag along for all the wacky fun.

Full disclosure: I can’t give an unbiased review of this movie. I watched it several times in high school, then completely forgot about it for ten years, until tonight. There’s too much nostalgia wrapped up in it.

That said, upon rewatching it, I am in LOVE with the structure of it as a film. You know how, some movies, you can tell that the people behind the scenes are having a blast? This is one of those movies. The structure of the shots vary wildly, and I suspect that there was not one tripod or stabilizer on that set. The makeup and effects are fun, every actor has an opportunity to shine at least once, and the pacing is totally bonkers. I will note, however, that for a slasher movie the confirmed death count is pretty low, AND most of the murders are less dentistry-related than you might expect. Still, it’s a good time, and right now it’s available to watch for free (with commercials) on Tubi, which is pretty sweet!

Read on for the content warnings and spoilers. In the meantime, I give The Dentist 3.5 tanks of nitrous oxide (use with caution).

Content warnings and plot synopsis below the cut.

Content Warnings

Also, I don’t really know what to classify this one as, but there is a lot of “ick” factor to this movie — rotting teeth, sludge, etc. If you’re easily squicked out by that sort of stuff, I’d proceed with caution.

Dental torture (and how!) – it’s basically the whole movie, folks.

Sexual assault – multiple instances, including a character having their head forced down while giving oral sex (in a daydream), and another character being assaulted while on nitrous oxide.

Spousal abuse (physical and emotional) – again, there’s a lot of this.

Child abuse – A young child has their gums stabbed by the dentist.

Animal abuse – a dog is shot offscreen.

--------------------------------------

Okay, spoiler time!

Whoo boy, here we go!

I have no idea why I watched this movie so much as a teen. Probably because it was free on FearNet (remember FearNet?) and I would watch just about anything.

Watching it as an adult, my first thought is… man this is weirdly paced. My second thought is that there’s a lot more non-dental-related murders than I would have expected, but we’ll come back to that.

So, our hero(?) is a dentist, and we meet him at the beginning of a framing device, miming dentistry and offering to tell us about his story. The bulk of the movie is then a flashback about how he got to where he is, interspersed with his monologuing or whatever. We meet him and his wife (who are a straight couple in a movie and thus required to completely hate one another) on their anniversary, a fact which becomes clear while he’s in the middle of throwing a fit about his laundry.

Pictured: a totally hinged man. Nothing unhinged going on here, no sir.

At any rate, he gets all suspicious after an interaction with the pool guy, and catches his wife having an affair with the guy. He continues framing-device-monologuing about decay and the world being filthy and all that, daydreams about assaulting his wife and murdering the pool boy, etc. He follows the pool guy to the neighbor’s house, acts all weird, shoots a dog — your basic Tuesday.

Eventually, he winds up at the office, starts hallucinating, assaults a couple of patients, and finally calls an early end to the day (self care is important). We get this delightful (in a heavy-handed sort of way) scene that keeps cutting back and forth between him setting out spooky dental tools and his wife getting dressed for the big anniversary surprise he’s has planned, and that’s when things really start to go haywire.

Okay.

So like.

I get that he’s a dentist.

I get that he’s a dentist whose whole shtick is having the themed exam rooms (though why we have aaaalll these rooms for a bunch of hygienists and one dentist is a little beyond me).

But you mean to tell me that this dude’s special anniversary surprise for his wife was to show her his new, opera-themed dental exam room?

“Oh, honey… you really, really shouldn’t have…”

Like, I know he’s settled on a revenge plot by this point, but I still definitely believe that this guy was legitimately planning the entire time to show his wife his fancy new dental suite as an anniversary surprise. Not to be that guy, but no wonder she was having an affair.

Honestly though, I love this scene. I love the camera PoV shots as he shows off the dental suite, I love the excessive gesturing with his left hand. I love how the scene starts off with his point-of-view of her, and then transitions into her point-of-view of him, cut with those big beautiful teeth-yanking shots. It’s ridiculous.

And then, they get home, he has some monologuing about the pool, etc.

Next scene, it’s the next day, some cops come to ask questions about the murdered dog, his wife is out back on a pool chair with her giant sunhat covering her face (the way normal, totally-not-drugged people hang out by the pool) while the pool guy does his pool guy stuff. Eventually the cops leave, yadda yadda yadda, the pool guy scoops the wife’s tongue out of the pool, he sees how fucked up she is, the dentist murders the shit out of him. It’s beautiful.

Don’t you love it when you finish your to-do list first thing in the morning?

The end.

Wait, no, that’s not right.

Somehow, there’s still almost half a movie left.

This movie starts with this dude fighting with his wife, catching his wife cheating with the pool guy, hallucinating his wife’s nasty mouth on everyone, etc. You’d think that, with his wife tortured all to shit and the pool guy dead, the movie would have wrapped up.

I mentioned before that the pacing of the movie is weird, which it is. I mean, he has his “oop guess I’m evil now” scene on his way to work the next day, which basically means that just over half of this movie is the origin story. It could be longer, with the big climactic nonsense taking up the last quarter or so. It could be shorter, with him freaking out about his wife, losing his shit, and having a proper dental rampage. Instead, The Dentist flies in the face of conventional story structure.

But this man is a busy man. He’s a dentist, damn it.

He has to get back to work!

Things are happening fast now, let’s get condensed.

We go back to work, he pulls some malpractice shit on that lady whose dog he shot yesterday, then strangles Jessica-the-hygienist (I think that’s her job) when she calls him on it. Later, a man from the IRS comes in and uses the dentist’s shady tax junk to get free dental work which is, uh, inadvisable. IRS man, Marvin Goldblum, starts talking about our dentist’s wife (and about how unhinged shiksas are in bed, in case we somehow we didn’t piece together that he’s an awful Jewish caricature), and I’m sure the rest of his appointment goes totally normally.

Get a guy who looks at you like this.

Meanwhile, the cops are definitely onto him regarding the murder of that dog (after all, murdering dogs is THEIR turf). They go to his house, where he left the body of the pool guy he murdered just laying around outside for anyone to find (which they do). Then they go upstairs and find his wife, who is alive but so fucked up.

Back at the office, Karen-the-other-hygienist, looking for her coworker who got murdered earlier, stumbles upon the very fucked up IRS dude. We get to listen to the dentist give a little monologue about how grossed out he is that his wife put some dude’s “dirty, rotten… in her mouth!” before he injects air into a vein in Karen-the-other-hygienist’s neck to kill her.

Next up, this girl who has been waiting for two days to get her braces off gets called back. She’s adorable and chipper, so this, of course, can only go well. When’s the last time you had your dentist pull a gun on you?

Our scrappy youngster runs off, and he gives chase (we find that Mr. Goldblum’s jaw elongation procedure is going well by the way), before eventually letting her go after she promises to take very, very good care of her teeth.

After all, he’s got his next job to get to.

Let’s go teach dental students the importance of pulling out everyone’s teeth!

Yeeep, he’s a teacher! And after he shoots one of his students while hallucinating, the cops show up, resulting in the slowest chase scene any movie has ever had (I mean the dude is literally just briskly walking down the hall and he still gets away from them). Anyway, the dentist winds up in an auditorium where a woman is practicing her opera singing. The dentist is entranced by this (we know he loves opera from that scene with his wife earlier) and reaches out to the singer, but he hallucinates his wife’s hecked up face on her and drops to his knees, presumably to have the rest of his nervous breakdown. The cops… uh… well, they just kinda stand around looking disapprovingly at him while he sits on the floor. And that’s… that’s it, I guess?

“Nah, let him rest, he’s had a big day.”

In our final scene, we have some orderlies at his new mental institution drag him down for his regular appointment, where his wife (who I guess is a dentist now) starts drilling at his teeth. This may or may not be a hallucination. It probably doesn’t matter.

Wow. That certainly was a film.

Alright, so, I’ve been typing up my thoughts as I watch, and I think I’ve figured out what I like about this movie, that had me coming back to it over and over as a youngster. There are some movies that just look fun to film, and this is one of them. A number of the shots are really charming, for lack of a better word. There’s the anniversary scene with his wife I mentioned before, but so many others — this movie plays around with point of view, extreme close-ups, some very fun effects used to indicate the hallucinations… there’s even a sideways shot of one of the cops coming down the stairs. I seem to have a real fondness for that sort-of manic, anything-goes approach to filming. Related side note: is there a single steady shot on this whole film? I’m beginning to doubt it.

Corbin Bernsen does a great job. I mean, all the actors do, really, but he is something else. Like, I can’t think offhand of many actors who could successfully take the character “dentist in bad marriage has a nervous breakdown because his wife gives someone else a blow job and it grosses him out; goes on torturemurder spree” without overacting to the point of distraction. “What are you talking about, this dude’s hammier than Easter dinner,” you say. Now, I get the urge here, but I have to disagree; Bernsen plays a fantastic Emasculated White Guy Throwing A Fit.

That picture I posted up there, after the bit about the laundry argument? A dude who makes that face over the idea of wearing the wrong cuff links to work is at most twelve seconds away from completely losing his shit at any given moment. And the dude’s anniversary surprise for his wife was to show off his new, opera-themed dental exam room; none of this behavior seems too off the wall for that character. Granted, I haven’t seen the sequel yet, and the image searches do suggest that our dear dentist is about to use his well-cared-for teeth to chew the hell out of some scenery in The Dentist 2, but in this movie? I’m just saying it’s not an unbelievable portrayal.

Disgruntled white dudes aside, the rest of the cast seems to have a fun time too. Shout out to the receptionist literally sobbing over what a great dentist this guy is (stunning work). If nothing else, stop by for wee baby Mark Ruffalo before he was famous. It’s adorable.

LOOK AT HIM.

ALL THAT SAID, I have to state again how surprised I am by the sheer number of not-dental-related murders! Like, by my count, this guy commits a hefty amount of malpractice, but for a guy on a torturemurder spree, he sure does seem to keep his torture and his murder fairly separate. Let’s tally it:

I’m tired, let’s wrap this up. The Dentist is a fun movie about a dude who loses his shit, does some dental torture, does some murder, does ZERO dental torturemurders, and then just kinda tuckers himself out and sits down. It’s a big silly mess, and I love it.

Tortures: six

The kid at the beginning, the lady he sexually assaults (it counts), his wife (not dead), that lady whose dog he shot, Marvin the IRS guy (alive when last we see him), and the person at the dental school near the end.

Murders: three people, one dog.

The dog (shot), the pool guy (knifed), Jessica-the-hygienist (strangled), Karen-the-other-hygienist (air injected into artery), and that’s… it..? He does shoot that person at the dental school, but it doesn’t appear to be a fatal wound, and Marvin the IRS guy was alive when we saw him last.

Torturemurders: HECKIN’ ZERO.

Zero! None of the tortures are murdered, and nobody he murders is tortured! What the heck kind of slasher dentist doesn’t even kill people via dentistry? No wonder everyone looks down on him at the end.

Alright, first post written. I’m going to bed.

#horrorlad original #the dentist #the dentist (1996)#corbin bernsen #brian yuzna #horror #movie #horror movie #horror movies #movies #review #film review #movie review

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saleintothe90s · 4 years

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422. ”Carrie” (May 12 - May 15 1988)

I adore reading about flops. One of my favorite flops to read about is Carrie the musical. A doomed production from the start. Millions of dollars wasted. Bad costumes. Filler songs.

Similar to my Simpsons season 10 review, I wanna give something to the worst aspects of the show. With Simpsons, bad episodes were awarded Marge’s homemade Pepsi. For Carrie, I think I’m going to give the bad parts the “Vending Machine Maxi Pad” award.

As most anybody who follows Broadway flops knows, clips from Carrie are scarce and are in poor condition on YouTube. Most of the actual clips are from when the show was in test productions in Stratford Upon Avon, but the music has been replaced with the Broadway soundboard. So, keep that in mind. Most of the time you can’t even make out what’s going on. Here’s the closest copy of the entire show I could find on YouTube, from the Sratford Upon Avon production.

I know people bash the musical, and sometimes it’s rightfully so, but two things are consistent: Linzi Hateley who played Carrie, and that orchestra that is on.point. Check out the overture.

(source)

The show begins with girls cheering in gym class in the beginning of an aerobics lesson? The white gym shorts look like diapers. That’s the first of many costume mistakes.

The song is a banger, I love Darlene Love playing the gym teacher, she’s my favorite part of the song. The only part that is cringey to me is when the girls sing “I go CrAzZyyyyy” and they get on the ground and dance like a toddler having a temper tantrum in a Toys R Us. Since the audio quality is so bad in these clips, I thought at one point the girls were singing about not being caught picking their nose, no, the lyric is:

Bought the clothes, did my nose,

Near the end of the song, the girls are on these rising rafters? It took me for-ever to realize that they were simulating a cheerleader pyramid, and that Carrie had snuck in near the end of the number to be on the bottom of the pyramid. Oh, and she causes it to fall and someone tells her to eat shit.

“Dream On” is the song that the girls sing while in the showers. Why yes, it does look like they’re in the nude due to the poor quality of the video. The song is ok, it gives total night driving home from the mall in the late 80s early 90s vibes. Although one girl says the line, “Six foot three and he's in his forties!”. WHAT.

Carrie breaks those vibes at around 3:44 by screaming that she’s bleeding. When Miss Gardener slaps Carrie, a cymbal plays. I love it.

I like to imagine that when the girls threw the tampons and pads at Carrie, some flew into the audience.

“Carrie” is shrill at first, and then it turns into a bit of snoozefest. Linzi sings the name “Carrie” about 458 times.

Betty Buckley who previously had played the original Grizabella in Cats. and who played the gym teacher in the original movie plays Carrie’s mom. Her song, “Open Your Heart” is pretty good. It’s a nice little break before mom goes bottoms up on Carrie for getting her period (”And Eve Was Weak” [Stratford version with Barbara Cook]):

Carrie: I was in the shower and...

Mom: You’re forbidden from showering with the other girls...

Carrie: I started to bleed!

While Carrie spends the rest of the night in a cellar, the popular girls are at the drive-in. Now, this musical cost over $7 million dollars 1, but yet this was the best set they could think of for a drive-in movie theater:

It looks like something out of a high school play -- which I guess makes a little sense since they are high schoolers? I’m grabbing at straws here. It cost so much money to put Carrie on, what’s a few more dollars to have two real hollowed out cars on stage, one with Chris (in the red) & Billy (in black) in it, and the other with Sue (pink leggings) and Tommy (purple windbreaker)?

“Don’t Waste the Moon” is the song sung at the drive-in, with Sue having regrets about throwing tampons at Carrie in the beginning of the song. The song is very 1980s, and it kind of doesn’t fit in the musical. Gene Anthony Ray’s (Billy) talent is wasted here.

It’s time for some “Evening Prayers” for Carrie where she discusses with God her new telekinesis powers. Meanwhile Carrie’s mom is being a worrywort. During the Stratford production, Carrie’s mom is in a rocking chair over there looking like Whistler’s Mother.

“You’re going to tell Carrie that you’re sorry!” belts out Miss Gardner. In the musical, Chris seems more obsessed with torturing Carrie than in the movie or book if that’s even possible. Sue is like, “What did she even do to you?”. Even Billy asked earlier, “Who the hell is Carrie White?”.

Oooof. Seeing the gym teacher try to cheer Carrie up by singing a song about the prom (”Unsuspecting Hearts”) and how she could go too is patronizing. Even if its sung by Darlene Love.

“Do Me a Favor” might be the most infamous song from the musical. It’s the song I see referred to the most when I read bad reviews. For some reason Chris is wearing a metallic red bodysuit and Sue is wearing a light pink bodysuit. Are they supposed to be that cliche devil and the angel on the shoulder thing?

Chris looks like Evil Homer!

I’m going be the unpopular opinion here and say that I love the song! The erratic dancing also fits with the song.

Carrie tells her mom before “I Remember How Those Boys Would Dance” that Tommy is sweet and polite, but the audience doesn’t know that. Tommy is barely a character in this production. In the end, Carrie uses her powers to shut her mama up.

From what I gather in “Out for Blood” (audio) where Chris and Billy go looking for a pig to kill, the chorus dancers are the pigs? The video quality is so poor. Chris had another crazy ass red outfit on, some sort of shiny red skirt and a crop top. The costumes in this are just horrible. It was like the wardrobe budget was $50.

This song is so.so.bad. It reminds me of whenever Rocko from Rocko’s Modern Life would see a movie trailer or a parody of something on TV for some reason?! Or the “gotta get that Reptar song” from Rugrats when the kids saw Reptar on ice. Especially when the chorus tells Billy to kill the pig:

CHORUS Cha! Kill the pig, pig, pig! CHRIS Go! CHORUS Kill 'im, kill 'im, kill, kill! We'll make him bleed! CHRIS Go! CHORUS Get the blood, blood, blood Oooh, blood! CHRIS Oh, baby show... CHORUS Kill the pig, make 'im bleed Let's get the blood, that's all we need!

Sue’s song “It Hurts to be Strong” is a bit of a throw-away. It gets a vending machine maxi pad award. Moving on. It’s filler

In “I’m Not Alone”, Carrie sings while using her powers to move things around in her room. What things? I don’t know the video quality was so bad. That’s another thing! The sets are nonexistent! I wouldn’t know we were in Carrie’s room unless the Playbill told me. It’s another forgettable song. Three in a row!

Betty Buckley saves the day in, “When There’s No One”, a sad song about facing life without Carrie being her subordinate.

I don’t understand the prom dresses in “Wotta Night”, they’re all garish giant white numbers that make the actresses look about 20 pounds heaver. The guys look like that Rio doll from Jem. The costume designer couldn’t just go to Alexanders or A&S and buy prom dresses? You know, why am I even asking at this point. We all saw what Chris has been wearing this whole time. There is a disco ball thrown aside in the corner instead of hanging up. More on that later.

The song sounds way too much like that song “Rock on” by David Essex. Automatic Vending Machine Maxi Pad.

Here’s a cute rehearsal clip I found of “Heaven”, the song sung while the Prom Queen and King ballots are being counted. Unfortunately, the audio is bad. Chris is there to remind us that she’s still out for blood.

Finally, finally it’s time for Carrie the prom queen to get drenched with blood -- but the thing is, due to microphone technology back then, Carrie really couldn’t have blood dumped on her. Chris and Billy just run up to her and half ass pour the bucket at her. Could the set designer not suspend the bucket from above the stage? Is that also why the disco ball is thrown in the corner? I don’t even think she has stage blood on her during “The Destruction”, (which is the best song from the musical). I think a red spotlight over Carrie signifies the blood.

I think Linzi is really only truly covered in blood for press shots.

Anyway, the Destruction, I love it when she screeches “DOESN’T ANYBODY EVER GET IT RIGHT??! DOESN’T ANYBODY THINK THAT I HEAR?!” It’s the best. I could listen to it all day and I almost did the other day.

Due the poor video quality, I can’t really tell how the prom-goers are dying. They’re kinda just twitching there in the laser light or slamming themselves against the clear barrier that descended from the stage to signify Carrie closing the doors to the gym.

After Carie kills everybody, this giant white staircase descends and covers up the gym. I read somewhere, I forgot where, that its supposed to be the school stairs? We’re led to believe that Carrie’s crazy mom ran to the school. The first time I saw it, I thought that it was Carrie and her mom getting ready to go to heaven. I thought maybe someone over at the set department took the classic song too literally.

It appears that while the stairs are descending, Carrie smears stage blood on her.

The reprise of “Carrie’ is so much better than the original. Carrie stops her mom’s heart cold mid song. Then she slins down the stairs and Sue catches her. In an interview on playbill.com, Betty Buckley says that on opening night (I don’t know if she meant the first preview, or the official opening night), there were boos from the audience at the end, but cheers for Linzi and herself. I believe it. Betty and Linzi were amazing. Darlene Love was amazing. The rough scenes are the scenes with the school kids. They’re awful, in the words of my boy Jay Sherman, “they’re awful I tell you. aw.ful.”

(relevant prom .gif)

1. Rothstein, Mervyn. “After Seven Years And $7 Million, ‘Carrie’ Is a Kinetic Memory (Published 1988).” The New York Times, May 17, 1988, sec. Theater. https://www.nytimes.com/1988/05/17/theater/after-seven-years-and-7-million-carrie-is-a-kinetic-memory.html.

New York City Broadway reviews on the news in NYC for Carrie. That first reviewer, Stuart Klein, I love him. I’ve watched several of his reviews on flops on YouTube. Joel Sigel who was the Good Morning America film reviewer is here too.

Archive of Betty Buckley interview.

#carrie #carrie the musical #1988 #betty buckley #linzi hateley #charlotte d'amboise #broadway #musicals #broadway flops #flops #the 1980s

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bitchardhendricks · 4 years

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Well I’ve Never Been to Heaven (But I’ve Been to Oklahoma) pt 11

As you can imagine, I’ve been having a lot of feelings about my hometown this week in particular. But while on a national stage it’s painted as being full of fanatical zealots hellbent on worshipping at the altar of a fascist demagogue, the reality that I’ve seen from the majority of its citizens this week is compassion, empathy, care, and concern. That mix is the brutal reality of the place that made me - a place not unlike a lot of your own hometowns, if I had to guess. I think overall, that’s the feeling I want to capture in all the parts of Tulsa fic. I wrote this part weeks and weeks ago, before any mention of the rally, but it feels fitting to post this week. I hope you’re all doing well out there, staying strong, staying safe, and taking care of each other.

***

They spend a few hours exploring the myriad shelves at Gardner’s; every time they walk into another room, Jared expects them to finally reach the end of the labyrinth, and every time there’s yet another room beyond. Richard shows Jared the spot tucked into a corner by the sci-fi section where he would spend long summer afternoons discovering new worlds with Bradbury and Asimov, Heinlein and Herbert.

Jared finds a used Pioneer Woman cookbook to buy for Diane - “Do you think she’d like this? I noticed she didn’t have this one when I was perusing her cookbooks this morning.”

Richard has no idea, but tries to be enthusiastic. “Um. I mean, yeah, probably, she’ll love it.”

Richard wonders what it must be like to be a person who notices things like that, makes notes of gifts to buy for people. Someone who’s thoughtful and kind and just fucking nice. He wonders, not for the first time, why Jared isn’t somewhere better, with better people, people who are like him. He wonders, also not for the first time, if his vision - Pied Piper, the company, changing the world one compressed byte at a time - is worth enough for Jared to stick around when the reality (when Richard himself) is so vastly disappointing.

He stops paging through back issues of Fantastic Four and looks up to watch Jared flipping through records in the section across the aisle from him. Sometimes Jared’s very existence throws Richard off-balance. His posture, his competence - everything about Jared is so put together and accomplished, like he’s been practicing for hours every day to make being a grown-up look so simple. His long, nimble fingers move over the records with ease and surety. Like a pianist, Richard thinks. Good with his hands. Jared must feel the weight of his gaze, and he looks up with a bemused expression that Richard knows means, Goodness, I’m so sorry, was I being too distracting? Richard’s face grows inexplicably warm. He shakes his head sheepishly - no, you’re ok - and Jared goes back to browsing.

He only watches for a minute or so before another guy squeezes past him trying to get to the Daredevil comics, and he jumps guiltily out of the way. “Hey Jared, we should ah, get going. Lots more to see.”

As they pay for their purchases, the sunny blonde cashier’s hand lingers against Jared’s long pianist fingers when she hands him his change.

Richard snatches his bag of books out of her hands and stalks off before she can finish saying, “Have a nice day!”

***

They drive for 15 minutes or so, the air conditioner cranked up, until Richard slows down in front of a huge pavilion with a banner advertising GUN SHOW flapping disconsolately in the muggy June air. Jared pales, hit by a vivid memory of a Saturday afternoon spent with Uncle Jerry and his friends at a civic center filled with the smell of testosterone and gun oil and the sounds of boisterous laughter and Lynyrd Skynyrd bouncing off the concrete walls. “Richard, I don’t--” he begins, but the car pulls into a neighborhood directly across from the huge building.

Richard puts it in park and turns to see the look on Jared’s face. “Oh - fuck, Jared, did you think I was taking you to an actual gun show? Jesus, c’mon man. No, it’s ah,” he opens his door and stands up, wedged in the vee of the car door and turning to point. “Better angle from here. See the statue? It’s the Golden Driller.”

Jared also gets out of the car to look and follows Richard’s indication. Towering above the pavilion is what looks to be a giant man made of stone the color of sand standing next to an oil derrick. The figure he cuts is imposing - Jared estimates he must be at least 7 stories tall, with his workman’s boots the size of school buses splayed shoulder-width apart, one hand on his hip and one hand resting possessively on top of the massive derrick like a hunter posing with a prized kill. His face is cut in austere lines, a square jaw, a long slash of a nose, a heavy brow hidden under a hard hat of some kind with a wide brim. He’s shirtless, and his broad shoulders narrow to a waist with a belt around it that says TULSA.

“He’s very tall,” Jared says, which makes Richard laugh. With a darted glance to confirm Richard isn’t laughing at him, Jared also laughs, surprised and a little dizzy.

“This is like - he’s THE symbol of Tulsa, you know. The baseball team is named after him, the stadium. When I was a kid, I was obsessed with this statue, we’d pass it and I’d just start like,” Richard mimes shaking his fists back and forth in the air in wild jubilation, “‘It’s the Tulsa Driller!’ I don’t even know why, heh. Kid stuff. I think probably everyone who lives here has a picture of themselves with that statue. It’s like a Tulsa rite of passage.”

He reaches over the roof of the Camry palm up and looks at Jared, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Wanting, expectant. Jared can hardly stand it, rooted to the spot and captured by that look as neatly as a rabbit in a snare. With a sly grin, Richard finally speaks. “C’mon, gimme your phone. You wanted to document the trip, right?”

A Tulsa rite of passage, he thinks, and fumbles in his pocket for his phone. Richard unlocks it with his fingerprint - thank goodness for the day Jared had insisted they spend setting up their emergency contacts and preparedness protocols - and gestures for Jared to come around the car and pose in frame with the colossal statue. “A little to the right - ah, my right, sorry - and uh, put your hands y’know - “ Richard half-attempts the Driller’s pose and ends up more akin to a little teapot before he aborts the gesture, embarrassed. “OK, look stern. You’re an oil man now, you gotta - yeah, that’s, that’s great,” he says, giggling as Jared puts on an exaggerated scowl. The shutter clicks in rapid succession as Richard crouches down, getting a better angle. “Yes, perfect, you’re a natural, Jared,” he teases lightly and Jared’s scowl disappears, replaced with a grin so wide he hears his jaw creak.

Richard lets the phone fall from in front of his face for a second, faltering, and just looks at Jared with a matching grin that’s febrile, electric, before taking a few more photos. When he hands the phone back to Jared, he avoids any further eye contact, looking down at the ground and hurrying back to hop in the car.

Jared follows, hoping the spell hasn’t been entirely broken on this inexplicable wonder of a day. As they drive to their next destination, Richard is quiet, contemplative. Just as Jared is about to ask if there’s something bothering him, Richard breaks the silence. “There’s a plaque by the Driller - we went to Expo Square there, that building, on a field trip in middle school for some like, multicultural fair, I don’t know. But my teacher, she made a huge deal about this plaque, right, and I still remember it, it, it said something like um, ‘Golden Driller, dedicated to the men of the petroleum industry, who um..with their uh vision and bravery uh, benefitted all mankind.’”

“Ah. Perhaps not all,” Jared cedes, and Richard nods furiously.

“Right, like, I mean look how that fucking worked out for everybody. And they’re y’know, displacing Native Americans and like, if you’re not white you’re fucked, and just annihilating the goddamn planet, and they’re building monuments to themselves like they’re so, so fucking magnanimous. Right?” He grips the steering wheel with knuckles going white and Jared nods along with him, attempting to remain afloat on the tempestuous sea of Richard’s emotions.

“You’re thinking of Gavin,” he says, and Richard’s jaw clenches mutinously in a way that tells Jared he’s right. The wound that Gavin has inflicted upon Richard’s soul is so raw and ragged, even after all this time, and it makes Jared ache to see him lash out like this, a proud lion tortured by the venomous thorn in his paw.

“He doesn’t have a case, Richard - you know that and I know that. In the annals of history, people will remember Richard Hendricks far longer than they’ll ever remember Gavin Belson, and not because you erect monuments to your greatness in the sky. The most enduring legacies are built by leaders who inspire love, not fear.”

Richard snorts, “Great. I can’t inspire either one for shit.”

The words clamor in his throat like a swarm of bees, and he can’t quite keep them contained. With his hands clutched tight in his lap, Jared says in a rush, like a compulsion, “Oh, Richard, that’s just not true.”

Richard glances at him, looks away. Glances back. Jared offers up a smile he hopes is reassuring rather than ghoulish, and decides the safest course of action is to redirect Richard’s focus away from Gavin. This is supposed to be a vacation, after all. “Anyway, let’s focus on Tulsa and all her hidden wonders. Where are we going next on the grand Hendricks magical mystery tour?”

The digital clock in the car reads 4:50, and Richard appears to do some mental math in his head. He shifts in his seat, perking up a little, and Jared breathes out a sigh of relief. Just keep swimming, just keep swimming.

“We’ve got time for one more thing and it’s...well,” Richard taps on the steering wheel in a beat Jared is coming to recognize as his tell when he’s eager, excited to show off something. “I think you’re gonna like it.”

#jarrich #silicon valley hbo #sv squad #Richard Hendricks #jared dunn #sv fic #my sv fic #Well I've never been to Heaven

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duhragonball · 4 years

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[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (124/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[15 June, 233 Before Age. Planet Yars.]

The Jindan Cult's war against the Federation was essentially a coordinated series of raids. Small groups of Saiyan cultists would attempt to invade a planet, usually along the Federation's frontier, and the defenders would be forced to respond before they could entrench themselves. The Saiyan Free Company, led by Princess Seltiss, could be counted on to handle one or two Jindan cultists, and the Federation fleet could intercept the cult's ships and destroy them before their crews could bring their powers to bear. But when six or more of the cultists landed on a planet together, it was a job for Luffa. Only the Super Saiyan had the power to cope with so many of the alchemically-enhanced warriors. And even then, they managed to wear her down, battle by battle, to the point where she needed time to recover.

During Luffa's convalescence, the cult managed to conquer Yars and without Luffa available to stop them, they went to work on fortifying the planet to serve as a base of operations. All the Federation and its allies could do was to intercept any Jindan reinforcements before they could reach the occupied planet.

But the cult had other ways to strengthen its position. Later, Yartian witnesses would tell stories of a gruesome ritual they performed, where one of their priestesses vomited red liquid onto the ground, and then an enormous earthen figure emerged from below. Then they worshiped this walking idol with cheers, songs, and sacrifices. The Federation's defenders knew this creature was an avatar of the cult's leader, Trismegistus, also known as the Saiyan King Rehval III. These avatars were immensely powerful, and now that the occupiers had one of them on the planet, there would be no way of removing them without Luffa's help.

"I would have thought she'd have been here by now," the rock-Rehval said. He was seated upon a giant stone throne that his followers had built for him in what used to be the planet's capital city. "Fifteen of my followers would be tempting enough bait by themselves, but I was sure she'd jump at the chance to destroy another one of my bodies."

One of his flock stood on the armrest of his stone chair. His job was officially to oversee construction projects in the area and to see to his master's needs, but the rock creature needed nothing, as the real Rehval was controlling it from many light years away. He was mostly there to let the avatar know when it was time to fight.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Thrice Blessed One," the man said.

"Well, it can't be helped," Rehval said with a mighty shrug. "I'll just go dormant for a while and check in again. It's not like she can get close to the planet without one of you sensing her approach or detecting her ship."

And so the great stone form of Rehval grew still. And just as the attendant turned to consider his other duties, he was decapitated by a beam of red light. Had he survived this, or if his master had not withdrawn his presence from the earthen figure, one of them might have recognized this as Luffa's signature technique, the Vengeance Cannon. Instead, his headless body tumbled to the idol's feet, while the idol itself remained motionless. Luffa approached it a few seconds later, and waited patiently for the other fourteen cultists to sense her power and find her. Civilian witnesses would describe the yellow glow of her hair and tail, and a sense of unease. Most Federation citizens appreciated Luffa as a benevolent protector, but many had seconds thoughts after seeing her in action. The news media tended to edit footage of her battles for the sake of decorum, but those who saw her fight in person had no such filter.

"You fools make it so easy," she gloated when they finally arrived. "You thought I'd rush in on a battleship, full power, give you plenty of warning. It never occurred to you that I'd do it all sneaky-like, did it? Suppress my power, coast my way into the system, reconnoiter for a few days."

"We still should have detected your ship!" one of the cultists protested. They all surrounded her as she floated above their earthen idol, daring them to chase her away from it.

Luffa laughed. "You call yourselves Saiyans?" she scoffed. "You must have forgotten everything you know about warfare when you went for this magical nonsense. You took this planet, sure, but you're still behind enemy lines. All the defense systems are enemy tech, aren't they? Including the early-warning outpost on the twelfth planet in this system. You didn't think those guys were much of a threat, but they've been scrambling your sensors since before I got here. So if you didn't detect my ship, blame those guys. I'm surprised your 'all-knowing' leader didn't mention it to you earlier."

"You're still outmatched, infidel!" one of the cultists cried as she brandished her spear at Luffa. "Even if you could defeat all of us, we only have to touch Trismegistus' form to summon him back to aid us!"

"Yeah," Luffa said. "I'm counting on it. Should make things really interesting. How long would it take for him to get here? A minute? Two minutes? And how many of you will be alive to help him once he's ready? And that's assuming you can get past me long enough to touch this thing. So many variables. I'm getting excited just thinking about it."

Without warning, she suddenly pounced onto one of the Jindan Saiyans and wrapped her legs around his before any of them could react. As she locked in the hold, he cried out in agony.

None of then had expected her to do this. It was folly to use a jointlock on a single opponent during a battle with so many enemies. And yet Luffa had done it anyway, leaving herself wide open for an attack. Only the attack never came, because her foes were too confused to seize their chance.

When one of them finally did react, he got as far as crying "For the Glory of Trismegistus!" before Luffa flew into the air to dodge his blast. Then she slammed into him, dragging her captive behind her as she continued to torture him with her hold.

"She's mad!" one of the Saiyans said in a panicked voice.

Luffa's raucous laughter did little to dissuade them from this opinion. She flew around her enemies like a hornet weaving through a group of frightened picnickers. When they finally gained the sense to try to intercept her and box her in, she used her arms to fire back on them. A Saiyan tried to cone up from behind her, but she flipped around as he approached, and swung her captive into him like a club.

His now constant wailing had taken a severe toll on their morale. Only a short while ago, they had been confident about their mission, but now, they all felt they were in a battle for survival, and they were losing. None of them dared to go for the earthen giant below. As powerful as the avatar could be, they each feared that Luffa would pick them off unless they all fought together.

As Luffa dodged their attacks, one of them stood still, struggling to prepare an energy technique. A ball of light coalesced above his right hand, and he growled and gritted his teeth as he willed it into existence. When the moment was right, he would unleash the power, and then--!

Before he could finish, a plasma bolt struck him on the side of his head, and he collapsed. He was dead before he hit the ground. Six hundred yards away, Zatte smiled as she looked at his dead body in the scope of her rifle, then shifted her aim to pick out a new target.

On the battlefield, the Jindan Saiyans saw one of their own fall, and believed it was Luffa's doing. They began to fear that her attacks could come without warning, and their panic forced them to go on the defensive. Luffa had killed the man she had caught in her leglock, and now she was seeking out a fresh victim. No one wanted to volunteer. In this way, the Jindan Saiyans gave up their sole advantage over Luffa. Their numbers could only overwhelm her if they attacked her together. Now, as thy scattered and kept their distance, they were unable to coordinate anything. One of them went for the avatar on the throne. Luffa fired a ki blast that got there first, reducing Rehval's graven image into a cloud of dust.

Luffa grabbed a Saiyan woman and broke her neck with a single kick. Another Jindan Saiyan tried to fight back, but he was cut down by Zatte's sniper fire before he could act. Luffa spared a backward glance to where the plasma bolt had come from, but quickly turned around in time to block an elbow strike and reverse it into a hammerlock. She used the man as a shield for a moment, then fired a ki blast through his torso, killing him and one of his comrades in the same shot.

That left just six of the original fifteen. With the power of Jindan running through their veins, six Saiyans were more than a match for nearly any force in the galaxy. Against Luffa, six were nothing at all. Under different circumstances, Luffa might have toyed with them, but she felt that they had held this planet long enough, and deemed that their occupation would not last a moment longer than necessary.

Civilian witnesses would later speak of the brutal efficiency of those final moments of the battle, but also that Luffa was laughing with joy the entire time.

*******

[15 June, 233 Before Age. Nagaoka.]

The Federation had managed to thwart or repel every Jindan invasion into their territory. The casualty rate on the cultist's side was 100%. They continued to send warriors anyway. The prevailing attitude among the Federation's military leaders was that if they could easily win this war, if only they could take the fight to the enemy. But the cultists' home base was its most carefully guarded secret. Here, on Nagaoka, if King Rehval knew or cared that Yars had been liberated, his fifteen warriors slaughtered, and his earthen idol destroyed, he did not show it. Instead, he spent his day poring over scrolls he had gathered over the years, choosing which would offer the best education for his new student.

For her part, Treekul had no interest in learning anything from him. She had only come to this planet because three Saiyans wanted to find the Jindan Cult, and she had been intrigued enough by the opportunity to join their quest. She was an archaeologist, one specializing in ancient alchemical texts and artifacts. She joined the Saiyans for the challenge, and because she knew that Saiyans tended to find a handsome profit whenever they wanted to do something. But the Jindan Cult was no ancient puzzle to be excavated and studied. There was no payday at the end of their search. Instead they were stolen away to a secret lair. Her Saiyan partners had been indoctrinated into the cult, while their leader, Rehval, or "Trismegistus" as they called him, decided to make her his apprentice in the alchemical arts.

It could have been much worse, she told herself. The cult only accepted Saiyans, so it stood to reason that an alien like herself would have been executed on the spot. Her only advantage in this predicament was that Rehval seemed to enjoy keeping her around. He often told her that he found her attractive, but he also seemed impressed with her alchemical knowledge, and maybe he found it refreshing to have someone to talk to who wasn't brainwashed into worshiping the ground he walked on.

And so, her best chance of escape lay in exploiting his fancy. He made her a priestess in his mad religion, and commanded her to wear a sort of dress made of torn robes, and so she did. He wanted to teach her his secrets, and so she played the eager student. He flirted with her constantly, and she did everything she could to hide her disgust. Because she knew that if she did this long enough, he would eventually come to trust her, and that would be when her opportunity would present itself.

That was her greatest strength on a planet full of mighty Saiyans. They all spoke highly of their pride, but Treekul didn't have much use for it herself. "Pride" was just another word for "stubborn" in her book, and she knew far too many stubborn, brittle people who broke because they refused to bend. A little flexibility went a long way. For one thing, stubborn, brittle people had a nasty habit of mistaking compromise with surrender, which made them careless. She didn't like wearing red rags, or being forbidden to cut her own hair, or having to listen to Rehval's lectures, but she could tolerate it if she had to, and Rehval would assume she had already submitted to his will.

As she sat in the underground cavern that served as his laboratory, he went on and on about his discoveries and achievements. She knew the type well. He wanted a woman to hang on his every word, to nod in fascination, and tell him how brilliant he was.

"What is Jindan?" he asked aloud. "The word 'jindan' is easily defined. It's simply another name for mercuric sulfide, commonly known as the mineral cinnabar, or the pigment vermilion. Common chemists would say that it's a toxic substance, and they're... mainly correct. Most carbon-based life forms are poisoned by mercury salts. However, alchemical thought sees beyond the mere physical nature of mercuric sulfide, and explores the deeper truth that the salt represents.

"In alchemy, the element mercury is considered an important symbol. Unlike most metals, it is liquid at room temperature. It flows like molten silver, which is how it came to be known as "quicksilver". It is rather slow to react with most chemical reagents, although it has a number of interesting interactions with other metals. Gold is soluble in mercury, which made it very useful for the ancient mining industries of many planets. With enough heat, a gold/mercury amalgam can be separated. The mercury boils away, leaving purified gold behind. Mercury also dissolves aluminum. It almost seems to devour these metals, which may have been what has fascinated ancient alchemists since the dawn of time.

"Then there's cinnabar. The deep scarlet color of mercuric sulfide is also of great importance to alchemical philosophy. Red, the color of blood, the color of fire. The color of change and life itself. The earliest practitioners of alchemy knew that it held the secret of the great mystery, the mystery that governed all changes in nature. Copper and tin could be refined from mineral ores. Nature provides the minerals, but the metals must be taken through artificial means. The process must be sped up to a time scale that is practical for mortals. That is the power of alchemy. To accelerate or manipulate the natural processes. Mercuric sulfide represents that power in its most basic form. Mix metal mercury with hydrogen sulfide, and they form red mercuric sulfide quite readily. Distill the mercuric sulfide, and the elements can be separated, and the mercury recovered once more. Just like with copper and tin and iron, only mercury can be refined much more easily."

Treekul had heard much of this before, as a college freshman. The professor who taught that course only offered one class every other semester, and only on two days a week in the middle of the day, which had been extremely inconvenient to her schedule. What struck her was how passionate Rehval was about it, as though he wanted to make love to a mercury atom. She had to suppress the urge to laugh at that image.

"The dream of alchemy," he said, finally coming to the point, "is to reduce all natural processes to the same simplicity of refining mercury from cinnabar."

That got Treekul's attention. Simplicity. The core tenet of alchemy was that every process was a natural reaction that could be sped up, slowed down, or even reversed. It was just a matter of knowing how, of discovering the "cheat codes" that made such miracles possible. Know the right shortcuts, and one could do the impossible.

Treekul began to wonder if there was an alchemical shortcut for escaping a Saiyan cult.

"Let us consider the other component of cinnabar, which is sulfur," Rehval continued. "It is native to fire, earth, air, and water. Volcanoes spew fire and air and geysers spew water, all rich in sulfur, which eventually deposits as a waxy yellow material resembling earth. From within the earth, sulfur is born, and to earth again it returns. Molten sulfur turns blood red, hinting at its ties to cinnabar. When sulfur is set aflame, it produces a blue color. Colloidal sulfur is white. The colors illustrate sulfur's connection to the sun. It is the principle of the sun.

"Likewise, mercury is the principle of the moon. Take a bottle of mercury and spill it across a surface. It scatters into droplets, both large and small, like the many moons of different sizes throughout the countless worlds of the universe. These droplets can be bound to sulfur, just as the moons of the universe are bound to their respective suns. However, the moons are defined by their connection with the planets they orbit. Just as the planets exist as the intermediaries of the suns and moons, so does life exist as an interface between the Principles of Mercury and Sulfur. Those with wisdom can recognize this sacred relationship, and thus study the nature of cinnabar, or jindan, in the search for the power over life. For what is life but a natural process, no different from the refining of metal from ore, or the burning of wood into smoke and ash? By manipulating the Principles of Mercury and Sulfur, an elixir can be prepared, one that reacts with the reagents of life itself, accelerating some processes, while slowing others. The ideal elixir would grant a being immortality, but the wise know that this is not a thing to be pursued for material gain, or as an escape from death. No, the elixir of life is an end unto itself. Discover that ultimate secret, and all other secrets, the Whole of the Great Mystery, will be laid bare. What is immortality, when weighed against that perfect and total knowledge?

"Though sulfur represents an equal portion of Jindan, we must consider mercury to be the superior portion. Mercury has the greater density, and its atoms are larger and more massive than those of sulfur. Every planet has a sun, but only some are blessed with the moonlight, of which mercury is a symbol. For this reason, the alchemical notation for mercury is depicted as an arc atop a ring atop a cross. The arc is the crescent moon, the ring is the sun, an the cross is the life on the planet sustained by them both. The cross represents the veins that carry blood through the body, sustaining life with the same color as jindan. Mercury is the moon, placed above the sun, which is Sulfur, placed above the planets, which are Life.

He paused here to write the symbol on a handheld electronic tablet: "☿". It was the only modern technology Treekul recognized in this laboratory. Everything else looked either archaic or unfamiliar, or both. She had seen the symbol before, of course, and the one for sulfur as well, which was a triangle atop a cross. But something about Rehval's fervor in describing it made her uneasy. To her it was a piece of trivia, but it was clearly something deep and meaningful to him.

"All of this," Rehval said, "Is a very elaborate way of saying that Jindan, my Jindan, is a way of harnessing planetary energy as a supplement to ones own ki. Cinnabar represents the connection between the Principles and living beings, but it's also just a mineral you dig up from the ground. Ancient scholars would drink potions of cinnabar and die, or go mad from mercury poisoning, because they took the connection too literally, too directly. The truth is more sublime, more complex.

"You see, there are three types of ki in the universe. The ki of living things is what makes the Saiyan race mighty. We Saiyans have more of this energy than most beings, which makes us stronger, better. Then there's the ki of the heavens. The sun and the moon. The stars themselves possess a ki which is inaccessible to us. Oh, the moonlight allows Saiyans to transform into giant apes, but the moonlight is only a catalyst for releasing latent ki we already possess. That's why I cut off my tail a long time ago, because I learned to harness that latent power without transforming. It's why I ask my followers to do the same. We don't need the moon. We don't need tails.

He pointed at the cavern floor. "What we need is the third ki, which is found in the ground beneath our feet. This is the interface where life and the heavens meet. Mercuric sulfide. The moon and the sun combine to form a mineral, which resembles lifeblood but can kill the uninitiated. My Jindan is the ki equivalent of that elixir. My technique is to draw power from within a planet. Done properly, it can magnify your strength many times over. But if the power is harnessed recklessly, it can destroy the user completely. Do you understand, Treekul?"

"Not entirely, but I get the general idea, I think. How'd you figure all of this out?" she asked.

"Alchemy has long been one of my passions," he said. "I wasn't blessed with great ki like other members of my family, and I sought an explanation for that injustice. Alchemy teaches us that the universe is governed by rules, but those rules can be manipulated by those who know how. Thus I was able to become as strong as I wished, as powerful as I wished to become. I turned lead into gold by transforming my base self into the golden King of the Saiyans. Soon to become King of the Universe. There remains only one obstacle, one stubborn impurity to be purged."

"Luffa," Treekul said.

"I've seen enough divinations to know that our destinies are intertwined, hers and mine. She is the Sun, bright and yellow and powerful. I am the Moon, lurking in the shadows, sublime and contemplative. The key is that our genders don't line up to that analogy. In alchemical thought, the Sun-Sulfur Principle is male, while the Moon-Mercury Principle is considered female."

"Cool, but what's that got to do with it?" she asked.

"It means that I must join with her, to complete the intermingling of our essences," Rehval said. "Well, that sounds a bit esoteric, doesn't it? The simpler explanation is that I need her, or some part of her, to complete my legacy. If she won't join me, then I'll have to take from her what I need. The Golden King must have the Super Saiyan power along with everything else. As a Saiyan myself, it stands to reason that if I defeat the Super Saiyan, that would mean I become the Super Saiyan."

"Wait, you think killing her would suddenly cause you to absorb her transformation into yourself?" Treekul asked.

He chuckled at that suggestion. "No, not really, though it is an interesting possibility. Perhaps the Super Saiyan only emerges once every thousand years because there must be one and only one. If the one that emerges were to die, would the power automatically go to another? Another natural process in the universe, one that I can study and master, but only when Luffa has been neutralized once and for all. I don't need to become a Super Saiyan literally, Treekul. Not when I can learn what the power is and how it works. If I find a way to make Super Saiyans at will, then I would be more powerful than any Super Saiyan before or after. That's the power I want. If my descendants can benefit from it, then the Saiyan race will have surely triumphed over all."

Treekul wasn't sure what to say. "You're a hell of a guy, King Rehval," was all she could manage.

"Thank you, my dear," he said. "And I think you'll make an excellent courtesan. It'll be nice to have someone to discuss spagyric theory with."

She made an audible gulp.

*******

[15 June, 233 Before Age. Planet Yars.]

Luffa's star-yacht, the Emerald Eye, had fifty cabins, most of which rarely ever saw use since Luffa took ownership of the vessel. She had occasionally used the extra living space for guests, though the only time it had approached the maximum capacity was when she had hosted strategic conferences between the Wist-Extraliga Wars. Among the many aliens on board during that time, there was once a Solarian monk who had left a letter on the bed during his stay. He had sensed great turmoil in Luffa's spirit, even by the standard of most warriors he had encountered, and his intention was that she would discover the letter at some later date, and perhaps find a measure of comfort in the words he had written. Also on the bed were a pair of the monk's headphones, which had no special significance. He had left those behind purely by accident.

When Luffa finally entered the cabin, she only noticed the letter and headphones long enough to sweep them aside as she laid her wife on the bed. The monk's letter fell to the floor, where it would never be seen again. They were too preoccupied with each other to worry about it.

"You... never... should have... got...gotten... so close to the....mmph... battlefield," Luffa said as she started pulling off whatever articles of clothing she could manage. She had some trouble speaking, as Zatte kept kissing her between each word.

"You're right," Zatte said. "But you were there, so I went in anyway."

"I almost didn't make it," Luffa whispered into her ear. "One of them was all set to blast half the city. The half you were in. He would have killed you--"

"But he hesitated," Zatte replied. She grabbed the front of Luffa's sleeveless shirt and pulled on it until it ripped apart. "They always hesitate, because they don't know who I am or what I'm doing there. More than enough time for my golden girl to come to my rescue."

"I was fighting twelve of them," Luffa panted.

"Eleven, after the one I shot," Zatte said. "Ten, if one of them managed to run off looking for the shooter. And they never find me until I want to be found."

"That's still too close, young lady," Luffa said. "You took a big gamble..."

"It felt like it," Zatte said. "But I wasn't really in any danger. Or are you saying those twelve Saiyans were too much for you?"

"You... ah!... you want the truth?" Luffa asked.

"I wouldn't be asking if I didn't," Zatte asked.

She inhaled sharply and gripped Zatte's shoulders tightly. "I have no idea," she said.

"Say that again," Zatte said.

"I don't know for sure if I could have beaten all twelve of them or not," Luffa said, an octave higher than she usually spoke. "Not if one of them managed to bring that rock creature back to life. Dammit, your hair smells amazing."

"Thanks, but don't... wow... don't change the subject."

"I thought I was in a pinch," Luffa said. Her voice began to tremble as she went on. "I was actually... glad when you shot one of those guys... but then I wasn't sure I could hold them off and help you at the same time."

"But you did," Zatte said. "You won, just like always."

"Thanks to you," Luffa said. "Without your courage I... I..."

For some time after that, they each found they had little else to say, so they used their bodies instead. There was a great deal of theatrics to their intimacy. Luffa alternated between her transformed and normal states depending on the mood. Occasionally, Zatte would become invisible, or alter her own body temperature using her ability to manipulate energy, mostly for the novelty of it. Telepathic communion had proven corrosive to their relationship, though Luffa had recently discovered a way to work around that. Instead of opening their minds to one another completely, she could establish a connection very briefly, allowing only a very small exchange of their thoughts. Mostly these mental quanta were too small and random to be of any meaning. It was for fun, more than anything else. A way for each of them to hear the other's voice in her head, even if it was gibberish like "laundry", "perpendicular", "beloved", or "leftovers".

There was no clock in the room, and neither of them had any interest in asking the computer to tell them the time. The battle of Yars was won, and until there was any word on another attack, there was nothing to do but wait. At some point, Zatte stood by the cabin window and admired the view of the planet's dayside.

"Was this how you thought it would be?" she asked Luffa without looking away from the window.

"What do you mean?" Luffa asked.

"I mean, was this how you wanted your life to turn out?" Zatte asked.

"Well, the last couple of hours have gone great," Luffa said with a satisfied smile.

"I mean, the whole thing, dummy," Zatte said. "When I was a kid, this was pretty much how I thought it would be. I had this old book my uncle gave me before he died. It was all about space battles and all the characters in the illustrations weren't really dressed for it. There was this one picture of a princess staring out a window on a ship. I guess that's why I'm standing here right now."

"Yeah, but you don't really like to fight," Luffa said.

Zatte nodded. "I guess it's not exactly what I had in mind, but most of it worked out for me. You and me, together, roaming the stars in our ship." She turned from the window, and gestured to the ocular implant where her right eye used to be. "I guess I pictured myself having two eyes and a lot fewer scars, but I think it's worth it. I may not like to fight the way you do, but I take a lot of satisfaction in the results. I have a holy cause. Someone to belong to. That's worth a few injuries, I think."

She sat down on the bed and patted Luffa's shoulder. "So was this anything like what you expected?" Zatte asked.

"I don't want this to come out the wrong way," Luffa said. "But when I was a kid, I figured you'd be a Saiyan man, and I'd have six or seven brats underfoot."

"Oh, right," Zatte said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked--"

"No, it's all right, Zattie," Luffa said. "It's just... I had no idea what I'd become. I still don't know what I am. I wasn't kidding before when I said I didn't know if I could beat those Saiyans. It was like, one minute I wasn't strong enough to take them, and the next minute I was. Maybe knowing you might be in trouble was what did it. It pushed me over the edge, like when I first transformed."

"That's wonderful," Zatte said. "If I helped you get stronger, then I'm honored..."

"Before, I would have died before accepting help from anyone in a fight," Luffa went on. "Now... well it doesn't bother me as much. I just sort of shrug and keep going. I've fought battles and won victories that would keep most Saiyans satisfied for a lifetime. But I see all the people who suffer on the sidelines, and that bugs me more than I thought it would."

"You're helping those people," Zatte said. "You should take pride in that."

"Maybe. It's just hard for me to say it's worth it, when I don't really know what 'it' is. Seems like it keeps changing on me. But one thing I do know..."

She took Zatte's hand and drew her closer. "There's a lot I'm not sure about, but hearing you say this is how you hoped it would be... well, that puts my mind at ease. People tell me I'm doing the right thing, and it's hard for me to know if that's true, but at least they're saying it. You guys can't all be wrong."

Zatte lay down beside her and put her head on her shoulder. "You'll see," she said. "One day, you'll understand what you've become. Until then, well, it's kind of cool that you don't get it, but you keep plugging away at it anyway."

*******

[15 June, 233 Before Age. Nagaoka.]

The acolytes waited on her hand and foot, as they always did. Rehval had arranged for Treekul to be a priestess in the cult, which granted her considerable freedom and privilege. Rank-and-file cultists had almost every aspect of their lives micromanaged. Their diet, exercise, sleep patterns, even their sex lives were strictly regulated by Rehval's priests. In turn, the priesthood answered to Rehval, though she had found that they were so thoroughly indoctrinated that they needed little direct guidance from him. Treekul was the only exception. She was mostly exempt from priestly duties, which was fortunate, since she had little understanding of what those duties were. Even so, the cultists treated her with the utmost devotion, if only out of respect for the office.

Rehval had multiple reasons for arranging this. First, it kept his followers off-balance. They had been taught to view outsiders as inferior or even wicked, and yet he had allowed an alien in their midst and given her a place of honor. Contradiction was one of many tools he used to control them all. Second, it suited his ego to work his "apprentice and/or consort" into his private religious order. Third, it kept Treekul off-balance. She was a prisoner here, and the "apprenticeship" made her feel more like a slave than a student. And yet, when she was dismissed from her lessons, she was treated like a queen, and free to do whatever she liked... except leave.

"Is there anything else we can do for you, mistress?" one of her attendants asked. The anxiety in his voice was depressingly typical for this place. It was the sound of a man who was constantly terrified of displeasing his superiors. Like all of the Saiyans here, he had come seeking power, only to find that it would be taken away if he displeased his benefactor.

Treekul finished her meal--a bland stew made with artificial proteins-- and shook her head. "Not unless you know where I can get a haircut," she said. "I could use my ki for that," the other Saiyan volunteered. He raised his hand and the tips of his fingers glowed with blue light.

"S-so could I!" the other man quickly added. Treekul was too tired to look at him, but she could tell from his voice that he was worried that he hadn't thought of the idea himself.

"I may have to take you up on that," Treekul said, "but I'd much rather do it myself. There's something pleasant about using a hair trimmer, you know? Too bad I don't have it..."

She was about to mention that her hair trimmer had been confiscated when she was brought to the planet, but then Treekul had an idea. "I mean... it's too bad that it broke down on me the other day," she said. "I haven't slept well since it stopped working."

She ran her hand over the shallow field of green hair on her scalp. "It relaxes me, is all. I know it's not that long, but there's a certain length where it's just right. Too short, and it's rough, like sandpaper. Too long, and it feels too soft. So I trim it constantly, or I used to, anyway."

"Perhaps the technicians could fix it," one of the Saiyan men suggested.

"Technicians?" Treekul asked. "Oh, I'm sure they're much too busy maintaining Trismegistus's more important equipment. It'd be selfish of me to impose."

"Not at all," he said. "I know one of the technicians, and she would be honored to serve you, mistress. She's my... well, she used to be my wife."

Treekul tried not to react to the barely-repressed emotion in his voice. Rehval had very strange notions about breeding practices. She wasn't entirely sure how he ran things as King of the Saiyans, but as Trismegistus, he dissolved all family ties and commanded his followers to participate in communal sex rituals. And yet, Treekul had never seen any children or pregnant women on this planet. Rehval seemed to want a new generation of Saiyans, but she had no idea where he was keeping them. Maybe he had a second underground facility for that.

"I'd like to meet her," Treekul said. "You know, just to see some of Trismegistus' followers working for his greater glory. Yeah, that kind of thing."

What Treekul really wanted was to get as much sleep as she could before reporting to Rehval for another lesson. But this was too good an opportunity to pass up. It had taken days for her to learn enough about the cult's inner workings to confirm that spaceships were routinely moving to and from whatever planet this was. Ships required regular maintenance, and if Treekul could find the maintenance crews, she could find a docking bay, or perhaps a flight schedule or cargo manifest. Even if all she found was a star chart to tell her where in the universe she was, Treekul believed it was worth losing a few more hours of sleep.

"At once!" he blurted out. Then the other Saiyan nudged him with his elbow, and he thought better of it. "Er, I mean... after we've finished our duty shift, that is," he said.

"With your permission," the other man offered, "we could take the device to her and bring it back once it's repaired."

"Nah, that's all right," Treekul said. "I'd really like to meet her in person, and I'm in no big hurry. We can work something out later."

They exchanged awkward pleasantries, the two men apologizing for any inconvenience, and she halfheartedly assuring them that she wasn't displeased with their work. Then she withdrew to her quarters, a space roughly the size of a studio apartment that had been hewn out of solid rock.

It wasn't a total loss, she thought to herself as she lay in her bed. At least she had learned that the technicians weren't off-limits to her. She just had to wait a little longer before seeing them. And once she knew where to go, she could return whenever she pleased

And there were other possibilities. She had hoped Endive might help her once she learned the truth about Trismegistus being Rehval, but so far nothing had come of that. If anything, her devotion to the man seemed to be even stronger for some reason. But maybe Endive just needed time to let the truth sink in. And there was still Lesseri, and Guwar, although she hardly ever saw him anymore.

And there was always the chance that Rehval's enemies might somehow track him down and invade the planet. Treekul wasn't sure she would survive a battle like that, but at least it was one more chance. She was building quite a collection of chances. One of them was bound to pan out.

An hour later, she fell asleep, in spite of the uncomfortable length of her hair.

NEXT: Fytpall.

#dragon ball #fanfiction #super saiyan #lssjluffafic #luffa #zatte #trismegistus #treekul #nagaoka #yars

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mobius-prime · 4 years

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238. Sonic the Hedgehog #170

Comings and Goings

Writer: Ian Flynn Pencils: Tracy Yardley Colors: Jason Jensen

Today's main story is mostly just more clean-up on Ian's part. Sally is worried about her father, still in a coma in bed after being poisoned by Evil Antoine, but Sonic and Tails arrive to reassure her, as Tails and Rotor have cooked up something special that should allow them to retrieve a Chaos Emerald for a quick cure. This "something special" turns out to be a pair of star posts (yeah, Ian really wanted to align this more with the games) which can open portals to alternate zones through some unexplained-as-of-yet means. Sonic and Tails end up in what was once the Zone of Silence but is now the Special Zone, which looks significantly different now that the energies of the Chaos Emeralds have altered it so much. They quickly run into another living being within the zone - Feist, the Giant (literally) Panda! Oh boy, remember this one-off character from StH#43? I guess he was meant to be just another one of Naugus' random lackeys within the Zone of Silence, but it seems like he's taken his once-in-a-lifetime chance to become a god with the power of the emeralds.

Da-dadada-daaaaaa! Yep, after two-hundred thirty eight issues of these comics, the Chaos Emeralds have finally attained their more recognizable forms as a group of seven distinct multicolored gems! See what I mean by clean-up? After Sonic and Tails explain their mission, Feist grants them a single emerald, the gray one, though he warns them that the next time they enter this place in search of the emeralds he will test them as he sees fit. Sonic and Tails rush the emerald to the royal bedroom, where Dr. Quack and Uncle Chuck insert it into their little… medical machine thingy and fire it up while it's attached to the unconscious former king. After a brief light show, he begins to wake up, and asks after his kingdom. He's quietly thrilled to see Elias as king, and to hear that Sally is back to working with the Freedom Fighters.

Sonic and Tails vacate the room to give the family time to talk amongst themselves, but Sally follows quickly, handing over the emerald and telling them that Merlin was looking for them. They're confused, even more so when they find Knuckles also having been called over by Merlin, but Merlin explains that he can use the power of the Chaos Emerald and Knuckles' guiding star gem combined to bring them to Argentum, allowing them to finally bring Tails' parents back. Sonic is a little miffed that he's unable to really help besides merely coming along for the ride, wishing he could take Fiona along to show her the planet, but soon they've warped halfway across the universe and find themselves standing on the Wheelworld. However, the place looks desolate and wrecked, and they can see Xorda ships in the sky battling with fleets of other, unidentified ships. Tails becomes panicked and wanders off to find his parents with Merlin following close behind, but while they're gone Rosemary and Amadeus show up, informing Sonic and Knuckles that the other ships belong to the Black Arms, and their war has been going on for several months now, devastating Argentum in the process. Wait, the Black Arms? Shadow's progenitors? Yeah, so essentially, Ian couldn't get permission from Sega to bring the Black Arms to Mobius for whatever reason, even though he was trying, so he decided to tie them up in a war with the Xorda. This would allow him to easily bring them in at any time once he got his permission, simply by having the war end and the Black Arms continue on their way to Mobius. I'll spoil it for you right now though that he never did get that permission during the course of the preboot, so that aspect of Shadow's backstory never really got explored the way it did in the games, since the Black Arms were eternally doomed to remain an offscreen presence. Anyway, Sonic, upon seeing Tails' parents, quickly rushes off and brings Tails and Merlin back for a reunion.

Aww! Man, we've been waiting a long time for this reunion! The two long-lost foxes end up in the castle, where Elias greets them and enthusiastically offers them a place in his court, which they accept, apparently having encountered some ideas during their decade away that they'd like to find a way to implement into Knothole's government. That evening, Knuckles finds Sonic hanging out near the graves of Tommy and Sir Connery, and though Knuckles is surprised given that Sonic isn't normally one to mope, Sonic explains that he's still a bit broken up over their deaths, as normally they don't lose "so many so fast." Knuckles grimly remembers his own family's disappearance, and Sonic worries that with many old and new villains rising up lately, things might be about to take a turn for the worse.

Well, funny y'all should mention Shadow! He's currently storming into Eggman's main computer room, furious, as he's just discovered that Eggman has been hiding a diary of Gerald's all along, and now he wants to know where it is…

The Island of Misfit Badniks!

Writer: Mike Gallagher Pencils: Dave Manak Colors: Jason Jensen

Oh, hi, Michael buddy! Haven't seen ya in some time! He's here to relieve us a bit from the more serious stuff of late with some of his characteristic slapstick charm, and a bit of a blast from the comic's past! Sonic, on one of his rare days off from duty, decides to take a run around the Great Forest only to accidentally stumble into an old hidden listening post of Robotnik's from the Robotropolis days. He finds a reference to an artificial island out in the ocean nearby, which was meant to be a waypoint for any defeated badniks to retreat to to await repair and/or retirement, and decides to check out if it's still there, using a piece of wood lying around nearby as a boogie board. Sure enough, the island is there, but he's surprised to find that "artificial" was a bit more literal than he expected and the place is in fact entirely made out of solid steel. Before he can explore further, he's knocked on the head from behind, and wakes up strapped to some kind of torture rack with a bunch of old badniks standing around him ready to bring the pain!

…yeah, that's about what we expected. Things are looking good until a new player arrives on the scene - none other than Pseudo-Sonic, who appeared alllllll the way back in StH#9! Damn, you're really goin' back for this one, Michael! Pseudo-Sonic has apparently been salty all these years that even though he was built to be Sonic's match as his first-ever metal doppelganger, he never got a chance to actually face off with the Blue Blur himself. The other badniks set up a contest between the two where they'll essentially run at and headbutt each other really hard, and whoever survives the impact is the winner. These two idiots actually do it, and Sonic ends up being headbutted all the way back out to sea.

Is it, though? C'mon, Sonic, you know it's never that simple! Sure enough, as he heads back to shore we discover that the badniks actually sunk the island on purpose, making it appear to be accidental while in fact setting up the island to be an underwater base where they can repair Pseudo-Sonic and plan their next revenge attack. Apparently this is "definitely not the end," so I guess we can look forward to one last visit from these guys in the future!

#nala reads archie sonic preboot #archie sonic #archie sonic preboot #sonic the hedgehog #sth 170 #writer: ian flynn #writer: michael gallagher #pencils: tracy yardley #pencils: dave manak #colors: jason jensen

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propertyofnikkisthighs · 5 years

Text

Sure Feels Right Ch. 4

Taglist: @hllywdwhre, @xxkellsvixen19xx

Warnings: Soft smut 👀

2019

It had been a few days since the ‘cuddle puddle’ incident and everything was still very much the same, and yet things were different between Lux and them. Colson would look at her with softer eyes and would sometimes just reach out and touch her lightly while he was talking or doing things and then would retract his hand and go about his business. Rook would lean on her or want his hair played with if they were sitting next to each other and he wanted to spend more time with her, which she thought was impossible considering they were on a tour bus together, but here she sat watching him and Slim battle each other in the newest mortal kombat.

“Rook can I puh-lease borrow Lux now?” Casie pleaded from the entry to the back of the bus. She had joined them last night for a few shows and Lux was grateful because it meant the boys were on their best behavior. “She promised to paint my nails and we all know she truly doesn’t care about watching you guys play this game.”

Lux chuckled at the put out expression on Rook’s face and pat him on the knee. “Here I come Casie.” she said getting off the couch slightly appreciative of Casie intervening. Casie grabbed the small container with different polish in it from Lux’s bunk as they made their way to the small table.

“Okay what color would you like? I have red, dark blue, black, yellow, purple, and green with glitter in it.” Lux presented the different bottles of polish as she named the colors.

“Ooh yellow! Then I can wear the dress I have with the sunflowers on it to the show tonight” Casie bounced with excitement in her seat. In so many ways she was exactly like Colson.

“So are you excited to be out of school for the summer?” Lux asked getting started on the young girl’s nails.

“School isn’t terrible, but I like being able to go on tour with Dad. The tour bus is fun.” Casie smiled and looked at her yellow fingers before blowing on them gently while Lux started on the second hand. “Yellow was a great choice.”

“Well if it isn’t two of my favorite ladies” Colson spoke through a yawn before leaning down to kiss Casie on the top of her head. He walked over and repeated the action to the top of Lux’s head and went to go make coffee as if it were nothing. Lux had briefly stopped her actions and could feel her ears growing red. He had never done that before.

“Dad look Lux is painting my nails to match the dress Aunt Ash bought for me!” Casie seemed to be ignoring the blatant display of affection Colson had bestowed upon Lux. She was beaming with so much happiness Colson felt his heart clench at the sight before him. Lux was so good to his little girl.

“Yeah Lux is almost as cool as your dad” He smirked sipping his coffee.

“Well you should let her paint your nails then too Dad. That would be very cool of you” Casie had Colson’s smirk as if it had been copied and pasted onto her face.

“Is that supposed to be a challenge Casie? I’ve let you paint my nails.” He squeezed in next to her and they both stuck their tongues out at each other. They were so alike in many ways.

“Blow and don’t touch anything until the top coat dries” Lux instructed and grabbed the polish she knew he would want for his nails, black. She was gonna use the yellow for his middle finger so he matched Casie but Casie stopped her.

“Wait!” She carefully pushed the purple towards Lux “For the middle finger since most of the show is black and purple themed for the album colors” Casie was probably a genius. Lux finished both of their nails and applied a clear coat to top it off for the both of them when Rook and Slim came out of the back and Casie instructed that they also needed their nails done to match. So Rook ended up with black nails and Slim ended up with dark blue nails and neither were too excited about that, but nobody was about to tell Casie no. The good part about Lux having to paint everybody’s nails was that the time went by much quicker and it wasn’t long until they were setting up for the show.

The show went without a hitch and Colson pulled Casie on stage for a few songs and she tried to pull Lux, but she was too fast and got away. She preferred the side stage anyway.

“The show was so kick ass!” Lux yelled practically pouncing on Rook the moment he made his way to her. He picked her up in a hug and spun them both around before he placed her on her feet again. The post show adrenaline could be felt through all of them which meant the boys would probably rough house later if Casie didn’t scold them. Colson tossed Lux over his shoulder and made his way towards the bus before she could comment more on the show.

“Colson! I’m wearing a skirt!” Lux tried to wiggle her skirt back down some, but it was no use, she could feel the breeze.

“Stop wiggling or you’ll make the skirt ride up more.” Colson replied matter of factly and placed his other hand over her butt to block the view. Lux felt her face heat up and was glad Colson couldn’t see her redness from his position. Rook was following behind them with Casie on his back pointing and laughing at Lux. This was embarrassing.

In all honesty, Colson didn’t NEED to block Lux’s ass, there was nobody in front of them that would be able to see anything. He told himself he was doing it to ease her mind, but really he just wanted to be able to touch more of her. Seeing her with Casie was increasing his want to touch her and be touched by her and so, he was covering her ass. Lord help him.

2018

Lux came up for air panting wildly, lipstick smudged, cheeks flushed, and a grin that could split her face in half. The girl in front of her was a mirror for how she looked minus the giant grin. Fuck she loved New Orleans. When Ash said they got to visit Colson while he was filming the Motley Crue movie she hadn’t expected to get to party like this, she should have known better with Colson involved. Colson was playing Tommy Lee (who Lux also got to meet with Nikki Sixx on set and she almost died) and she was positive everyone knew they couldn’t have found a better person to play Tommy. He had dragged her, Rook, Douglas, and Daniel to a strip club, well dragged wasn’t the right word because all of them wanted to go; but he had the idea first. That was how Lux had found herself in the private booth making out with one of the strippers while the boys watched.

“Holy shit” Douglas was the first to break the silence. He was cute with his hair a bit messy from his wig and his eyeliner still on from today’s shoot. It gave Lux butterflies.

“See didn’t I tell you she was amazing?” Colson beamed her way. He was always proud when she did what he had dubbed “Colson like behavior”.

“I think she’s damn near wife material.” Daniel cooed putting a hand on her shoulder. Colson had told Lux that the director wanted the boys to really get into their roles and Daniel seemed to be practicing his Vince Neil charm on many of the ladies tonight. He and Colson were even wearing matching shirts that were open to show their (incredible) abs. Her mouth was getting dry thinking about it too much so she grabbed the shot Daniel had in his hand and took it with a wink.

“No offence Colson, but I think want to hang out with Lux now. She may be the coolest person here.” Douglas laughed.

“Dougie, I would eat you alive.” Lux smirked at him over her shoulder. If she played her cards right she would get to mark fucking a british guy off of her fuck-it list (bucket list). Perhaps Douglas was feeling bolder from playing Nikki Sixx and he was leaning into his role, or maybe it was all the shots they had done, but something had him wanting to act more impulsively around Lux.

He leaned down inches from her face and whispered “I think if anyone is eating somebody tonight I’d rather it be me to you.”

Lux almost had to clench her legs shut and kept looking between his eyes and his lips before he curled his mouth into what was becoming a signature smirk for him. He leaned away and sipped his drink still smirking while Lux tried to collect her thoughts. She was damn near ready to grab Douglas’ hand and physically drag him to her hotel room. Colson kept flashing his eyes between the two in confusion looking a little miffed, so Lux decided to help improve his night. She excused herself to go to the bathroom and found one of the dancers whom Colson had been making eyes at all night.

“Can you go give a private dance to my friend there in the private booth?” Lux gestured with her head “You can’t miss him he’s the pretty blonde with all the tattoos” She slipped the girl some money after she nodded having seen who Lux was referencing. Lux watched as the dancer approached Colson and pulled him into a different private room for his dance mentally high fiving herself when she saw his excited expression. Now to get Douglas and get him out of here.

Colson had to hand it to Lux, she really fucking knew his type. The dance had been beautiful torture, but he worked enough charm and magic and knew she’d come to his room tonight. She said her shift was about done and she’d meet him near the bathrooms so they could head out the back door. He was gonna look for Lux to tell her thank you when he noticed her and Douglas were gone. He chuckled to himself and shook his head. She was so like him sometimes.

Colson groaned as the girl bobbed her mouth up and down his length. He would have to thank Lux later. He needed to stop thinking about Lux right now. He tangled his hand in the dark hair of the girl on her knees before him and squeezed his eyes shut. She moaned around him in her mouth and he practically died on the spot. If she kept this up he wouldn’t last long. She pushed as much of him as she could fit and worked the rest with her hand. He threw his head back and panted unable to stop a small moan that bubbled in his chest. Fuck he loved New Orleans.

Lux was wincing from the knob of the cabinet being pressed into her back, but she refused to stop Douglas from what he was doing with his fingers. A broken moan escaped her lips before his crashed down onto hers. The kiss was hungry and needy matching everything Lux felt as she bucked her hips up to meet the pace of his fingers. She briefly heard a loud moan in the next room over and almost regret her decision to go back to Doug’s room instead, but her thought on the matter was cut short by Douglas lifting her off the counter and carrying her to the bed. She needed to shut out the thoughts of Colson, even if hearing his headboard hit the wall was a bit painful on her heart. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on the man removing her shirt to kiss down her body. He kissed her hard again and they scrambled to remove the remaining bits of their clothing. Douglas fixed her with a smug grin and lightly pushed her to down to lay against the mattress as he made his way down her body again. He was stopping to bite and suck on parts of her body and she knew she would resemble a leopard tomorrow. Douglas positioned himself between her legs and nipped at her inner thighs looking up into her eyes.

“Now I believe we discussed the finer points of eating earlier, right?” Douglas smirked and before Lux could respond he had his face between her legs. Her hand found her way into his hair as breathless moans filled the air. Fuck she loved New Orleans.

#machine gun kelly #mgk #machince gun kelly fanfic #mgk fanfic #colson baker #rook fanfic #mgk x oc x rook #rookxx #sure feels right

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obwjam · 5 years

Note

hear me out- Bucky having made friends with a borrower, and that borrower being tortured by HYDRA in order to bring back the winter solider

i have heard you. and i shall answer you. i actually LIVE for the “tiny comes from a place of torture and is rescued by a big friend” trope. like, absolutely obsessed. the dynamic is A++++++

(tw: mentions of blood, torture, guns)

taglist: @nightmarejasmine @burrpoetry @thepoolofthedead @the-original-space-cowboy @gttrash @smolkuriboh27 @bittykimmy @misfitsgalaxygt @a-black-pegasus @smol-jar-of-pickles @sanderssidestrash27 @snack-at-midnight@haveyouheardofborrowers @pomelo-chan @sammigruber @gttrash@tiefling-trickery @bittykimmy @random-sanders-dragon

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Bucky blamed himself.

There was no one else to blame. If he had never talked to you, you would have gone your whole life without getting into trouble. You would have kept borrowing peacefully, blissfully unaware that he knew your every move. He had been watching you for so long and you had no idea. At the time, it seemed like a good idea to finally meet the tiny that lived in his walls.

When he first saw you, he had no words. He had never seen something like you before. He watched in the shadows as you carried grapes in your arms like a giant beach ball. He was hardly upset; it was a treat just watching you do what you do.

He watched you for weeks. He found that you came out at the exact same time every night, because at that point, he was usually asleep. He never left food out on the counter per se, but he made sure to be a little extra clumsy while cooking from time to time.

He was enthralled. He couldn’t stop. At some point, he figured, it bordered on creepy to watch you without knowing anything about you. It was hard pinning you down the first time he met you -- literally, he tried to pin you down -- but eventually, he found out the best way to talk to you was no grabbing and no looming.

You two were surprisingly similar. You were both pretty quiet and reserved, both had tough pasts. You both knew what it was like to lose friends and family. You knew what it was like to feel like you didn’t belong.

Now, it all felt like a trap. Hydra had been hunting Bucky for months. They knew he now had the protection of the Avengers, so swooping in to attack him was no longer an option. Somehow, they needed to lure him back to their base.

And you were the perfect bait.

During a failed attack, Hydra had at least managed to bug the place to keep tabs on Bucky’s habits. They were pleasantly surprised to discover that he had a tiny companion that he seemed to be very fond of.

“P-please, s-stop-stop... “ you begged, but you knew it was worthless. You were going on your fifth--no, sixth?-- hour of torture. The first few hours, you just sat in a cage in a dark room. Complete and total isolation. The growing anxiety of when, who and what was coming for you next drove you into a panic so frantic that you spent a half hour trying to rip away at the cage’s wiry bars.

Finally, when someone did show up, their presence was enough to make you cry. They opened the cage and lifted you up by your shirt, dangling you higher and higher in the air once they saw how furiously you kicked your legs. They moved their fingers from your shirt to your torso, spinning you around in the air as they observed you.

“What a sad little creature…” they whispered, squeezing you incrementally harder and smirking as your face contorted from the pain. Your eyes felt like they were about to pop out of your head as the air flew out of your lungs like a vacuum sucking up air.

You were dumped onto tables, prodded with tools, flicked by fingers, gazed down upon by dozens of eyes and held in place by pieces of tape. Oh, the tape was the worst. All you could do was look straight into the eyes of your captors. They would rip off the tape and replace it with new strips for fun, just to watch the tears leak from your eyes.

You knew exactly why they were doing this, too; Bucky had told you just about everything. There was a part of you that was begging him to come and save you -- you had never felt this kind of pain before. But that was Hydra’s intention. You had to be stronger than this. Your best friend’s life was at stake.

Bucky’s hair was whipping so fast he thought it might fall out. He hadn’t eased his grip on his handlebars since he got on his motorcycle. How could he let this happen? Why didn’t he just let you come with him on his grocery store trip? To think that your safety was his concern…

He kept repeating your name under his breath. To say it out loud, it was his only way of convincing himself you were still alive.

You cringed underneath the magnifying glass being held over you. The heat from the lamp above you and the way it filtered through the glass made you feel like you were sitting next to the sun. You could feel your clothes soaking with sweat.

There was a loud bang somewhere off in the distance. Men were screaming, guns were firing and boots were thumping.

He was here.

Bucky hadn’t felt this kind of fervor in a long time. He was barely thinking as he knocked out agent after agent. He didn’t even feel like he could be touched right now. He wouldn’t allow himself to be. He knew it was a trap, but his only goal was to rescue you.

“Where ARE THEY?!” he screamed as he fired bullets into the chest of another agent.

The doctors who were handing you looked up. They almost couldn’t believe the anger in Bucky’s voice. They knew you were important to him, but they may have underestimated just how important.

“BUCKY!!!” you screamed, knowing full well you’d be punished for it. “BUCKY! IN HERE! BUCKYYYYYYYYYYY!”

You suddenly felt the force of a giant hand over you. One of the doctors slammed his entire palm over you, intentionally pressing it against your body. You tried to scream, but couldn’t open your mouth. You were lucky to get some breaths in.

Bucky heard something small. It sounded like his name. He thought it could be even more of a trap -- that whatever voice he was about to follow wasn’t actually yours. But in this dark, damp facility, it was all he had to follow.

“You little rat,” the doctor hissed at his hand.

“Take your hand off them. If they die then he’ll go mad,” the other doctor insisted.

“If he hears them, he’ll come in here,” the first doctor said, sounding nervous. “And we don’t want him to--”

He didn’t get a chance to finish. The door burst open and Bucky ran through, gun pointed. The two doctors cocked their guns in response, finally giving you some air. Bucky immediately saw you.

“What have you done to them,” he growled. He could see the glint of blood dripping from your head.

“Nothing permanent,” the doctor snarled, chucking his gun aside to lunge at Bucky. Bucky blocked every punch and dodged every kick, holding his own in this two-on-one fight in the small room. He put his gun back in his pocket so he wouldn’t accidentally fire it at you.

As the giant men fought, you squirmed in the tape. The more you wiggled, the more you could feel the stickiness wearing off. Even though the tape dragged and pulled at your skin like a dog pulls on a rope toy, you managed to get one of your legs free.

“Longing,” one of the doctors yelled in Russian. Bucky’s eyes widened.

“No,” he whispered, taking a swing at the doctor. He missed.

“Rusted,” the other doctor yelled next.

“NO!” Bucky took another wild swing.

“FURNACE!”

“STOP IT!” Bucky swiped, missing the head of the doctor narrowly. His force propelled him forward and he smacked into the desk where you were pinned down. You looked up in horror as the bookshelf on the desk started to shake. Luckily, nothing fell.

“(Y/N!)” Bucky gasped before the doctors spoke again.

“Bucky, what’s going on, what are they saying, what’s--”

“DAYBREAK!”

Bucky clutched his head, his breath picking up. He looked down at you, bleeding, sweating, crying and shaking. He hadn’t seen someone so roughed up in a long, long time.

“I’m sorry buddy, this shouldn’t have happened,” he breathed. “I should have just-- I should have protected you.”

“Stop,” you said, hiccuping between breaths. “Stop, stop. Don’t blame yourself. I’m glad you found me.”

Bucky smiled -- the closest thing he’s come to a smile in a long time, anyway -- as he turned his attention back to the doctors.

“Seventeen,” one of them said. Bucky’s hand was shaking as he reached for the gun in his pocket.

“Bucky, whatever it is, don’t listen to it,” you pleaded. “Please… please, I need you!”

Bucky shut his eyes, repeating your name in his head over and over. He felt the cool surface of the gun’s handle scrape his fingertips.

“Benign.”

A flash of pain went through his skull. He gripped the gun.

“Nine.”

“Homecoming.”

“One.”

“Freight c--”

Boom.

The first bullet flew right through the chest of the first doctor. Blood began slowly leaking from the circle wound as the doctor clutched his chest and staggered backwards. The other doctor was taken aback, giving Bucky enough time to put a bullet through his chest before he could utter the last word.

In an instant, the two doctors were slumped on the floor, lifeless. Bucky dropped his gun and ran over to you.

“Please, hold still,” he said, raising his shaking fingers to the edge of the tape. You closed your eyes and gritted your teeth as he peeled it back.

“OwowowowowOW!” you said impulsively.

“Sorry, little guy,” Bucky muttered, moving over to the next strip. He felt guilty for hurting you.

“This--ah!--isn’t your fault,” you said, reading the guilt all over his face. Your jaw was quivering at the sight of his giant trembling fingertips inches from your face.

“Stop saying that,” Bucky said snidely. “Just let me get this off of you.”

You wondered why it hurt less getting the tape off your leg, until you tried to stand up. You had lost all feeling.

“Woah!” Bucky stuck his hand out, extending his pointer finger. “How badly are you hurt?”

“Well, I guess I can’t feel my left leg,” you said, pushing on his finger and using it to stand up. “That’s new.”

“Aw man,” he said, starting to twist his hands underneath you. “Can I…?”

You nodded, letting him take the pressure off you as he lifted you slowly into the air. You fell back into his palm and leaned back on his curved fingers. Staring up at his billboard-sized face freaked you out for a moment, if only because you were still reeling from what just happened.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Bucky mumbled as he stepped over the bodies of the doctors. He looked back down at them one last time, just to make sure.

“It’s… it’s okay,” you said, staring down at the bodies with him. You had never seen a dead body before and you hoped you’d never have to again. “Y-you had no choice.”

“I should have never dragged you into this mess.”

“Bucky…” you sighed. “You, someone with a sick metal arm and literal superpowers, wanted to be friends with me. You thought I was cool. I still can’t believe that. And now you’re… you’re my best friend. I didn’t care that these goons took me. I only cared that you might get hurt trying to find me. Or that I’d never see you again.”

Bucky didn’t realize he was smiling, probably because he forgot what it felt like to do that. What you didn’t know was that Bucky thought you were much stronger than him, in all the ways it counted.

“I won’t let anything like this happen to you again, (Y/n),” Bucky said quietly.

You smiled. “Just let me come to the grocery store with you next time.”

Bucky laughed the smallest of laughs.

“Only for you.”

#we love soft bucky!!!!!!#marvel g/t #g/t #giant/tiny #giant tiny #gt #sorry i answered this straight up so i cant add a read more and i cant reupload rn

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