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cologona · 9 days

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If you won some sort of lottery contest and DC allowed you to write a comic run for any character, any topic, no limits, what would your comic be like?

What kinda plot and characters would you want to etch into official DC canon? (Or would you prefer to write an elseworlds kinda thing?)

-redhoodinternaldialectical from the "main" blog

Sorry it took a while to answer this, I got pretty carried away! Jason is my favorite character and the character I know most about, so of course I'd write about him. This is going to be pretty long winded and fanfic-y, hope you don’t mind!

First things first I’m making both UTRH and Lost Days mostly canon again. Jason was a crime lord who did Mean Crime Lord Things for a while and that’s what I’ve decided everyone is referring to when they gesture vaguely to his villainous past.

I’m also bringing back the original “big boob” backstory where Jason makes Bruce laugh on the anniversary of his parents’ death. Catherine was an opioid addict due to illness, Willis was the person who taught Jason about cars (and thus how to jack tires) and Faye Gunn is no longer Jason’s grandma. (I really disliked Ma Gunn’s “redemption” in RHATO.) Just in case, I’m also reiterating Sheila’s role in Jason’s death.

Here’s a few lines I came up with for the Todds:

Jason keeps the letters Willis sent him from prison - the ones Ma Gunn hid- in the same picture frame that holds his Robin graduation photo with Bruce. He loved and resented Willis in equal parts, but mostly he regrets not having gotten more time. It’s all the same with fathers.

Catherine is curled up in bed, her expression is half a grimace. She asks Jason, who is reading a picture-book by her side, to get her ‘medicine’ for her. Jason doesn’t know how else to help her feel better so… that’s exactly what he does. In a moment, he returns with a small heart shaped box and a cup of microwaved soup.

If I can imply in some way that Catherine is in denial about the possibility of her dying I’d like to do that too.

I’m also doing a total overhaul of the All-Caste.

Essence is getting proper Tibetan braids, Ducra is going to wear a khampa chuba instead of her current old coat, and the Acres-of-All are getting reimagined as a towering Ziggurat with all the murals, pillars, curtains, and ornate trim befitting a monastery! The All-caste of memory will be bright and fantastical, but the ruins of the present will be dark and spooky.

Some references for what I'm talking about.

I’m also reframing the “Absolute Evil” part of the All-blades’ description to be an epithet for the Untitled. The sword is not literally judging Goodness and Evilness anymore; now they cut through negative psychic energy Jujutsu Kaisen style. I don’t think I need to spell out a justification for Jason being able to summon them whenever, but for any sticklers I’ll just say it’s because Jason- like the Untitled- has a lot of bad feelings and trace amounts of Dionesium in his system (among assorted other chemicals.)

Since Lost Days is being brought back that means instead of spending an entire 3 years with the All-Caste, Jason only spent a few weeks with them during his world-wide training arc. Ostensibly because a little magic would give him an edge over Batman. Ducra wouldn’t normally just give away powerful magic weapons to any chump with a free weekend, and she knew Jason was dangerous, but since the All-Blades are so specific and the ritual to attain them nigh-unsurvivable she saw an opportunity to use Jason. Sure she's one of the Good Guys, but she's not called a conniving old witch for nothing hoohoo!

Now a few plot ideas for a vague overall mini-arc.

First, Jason goes to ugly lengths to protect or prevent consequences from finding one of his family. Maybe someone threatens their secret identity…? The ‘opponent’ should be someone innocent and/or noble but not easily bought or fought. Maybe Vicki Vale, another Hero, or some kind of wealthy heir. The point is to cast doubt on if Jason’s return to the Bats is really so unquestionably redeeming. Jason has pretty much chosen to betray his morals for them after all.

Then, Jason chooses not to kill a villain who shortly afterwards victimizes more people and skips town before he can get caught. Basically a rehash of Diplomat’s Son except the Garzonas figure gets away. It’s technically a win for Batman- his presence kept Gotham safe after all. But it doesn’t feel like a win, especially not to Jason.

And finally, Jason frames himself for various murders committed by victims against their abusers. Maybe kick the story off with one of Ma Gunn’s boys killing her and telling the cops it was Red Hood in a desperate bid to avoid jail.

Obviously Jason can’t be allowed to do this long-term. It’s a bad precedent to set, an obstruction of justice, etc… Jason hasn’t broken The Big Rule though, and Bruce can only act so sanctimonious when those same complaints could be are made about him as well. There’s no way this ends any other way than Batman running Red Hood out of Gotham again and they both know it, but neither deviates from the path set before them.

One or two “monster of the week” issues where Jason fights various assassins and bounty hunters sent by his more influential enemies might be good- one should occur right after the above story. A consequence for his “return to form” so to speak. Batfamily fans may appreciate a scene where Bruce says something indicating that he ran Jason out for his own safety as well as Gotham’s. Batman may be able to hide in Bruce Wayne’s skin during the day but Jason’s only identity is that of Red Hood, and at times that makes him vulnerable in a way other heroes aren’t. This + some panels contrasting the generic mercenary look of Jason’s guns and equipment with the Bats’ spandex future-tech will be great for showing how separate Jason is from the Bats.

Now while Jason’s out of Gotham again there’s this detail in one of RHATO’s flashbacks that I want to expand on- that being how he used to be able to summon a lot more All-blades.

Red Hood Outlaw 34

“I had a lot of soul back then” - implying that he has a lot less soul now…!?

Jason’s been through a lot, in life sure but also more recently. Fight scenes where the All-blades take the form of daggers would not only be cool and evocative of the wavy dagger Talia gifted him way back when, they’d be good visual sign of his declining emotional state.

Later on as his soul ‘shrinks’ further, I’d give him a pair of mystical guns through which he can channel his All-blades into bullets. If it’s another gift from Talia I’m thinking dark brass revolvers with paisley filigree and a red Endless Knot charm hanging from each handle. If they’re from Essence or S’aru I’m thinking black lacquer and silver cloud-patterned ornamentation, with red coral embedded on either side of the gun. Beautiful Bayonetta-style guns with glowing red veins and a cowboy flair!

antique guns which inspired me

As for what he’s using the All-blades (All-bullets?) for, I think it’d be fun to have Jason exorcising some ghosts. He can solve various murder mysteries, figure out why this place or that person is haunted, and get into fights with horrific otherworldly creatures. Jason is an interesting character to do this premise with because he might just determine that some some spirits should get their revenge, and act on behalf of a ghost rather than erasing it.

I’m not sure whether I’d want to have Essence join him or not… On one hand it only makes sense that Jason would help Isabel and Essence find a way to free themselves from the Blood Blade, and that goal would provide his character with some direction. Then again, Essence/Isabel could be cool as antagonists. Jason might see some ghosts as valid but Essence probably wouldn’t see any merit in appeasing manifestations of lingering resentment. She’s similar to him in that she also turned her back on her family, but she’s different in that she did it because she believed so wholeheartedly in their cause. She’s old and sort of a Jedi, but she’s hot-blooded and she’ll never not be Ducra’s daughter in the same way it seems Jason can never escape Batman’s shadow. I bet she has some real juicy sunk-cost fallacy type thinking too, that’d be fun to dig into.

Anyways I think this is a pretty good set-up to explore the politics/morality of forgiveness. What makes the difference between an injustice and a hatchet that ought to be buried? When is forgiveness empowering and when is it coerced? Who is it that must forgive? Justice vs Revenge, that whole kind of thing.

Other than the supernatural stuff I want Jason working with Talia, and I’m reintroducing Sasha to the post-52 continuity. Duela is getting nixed.

I don’t really have any specific plot ideas for Talia, but I would like to establish Jason as one of her associates. With Lost Days back they have basis for an actual relationship again. They’re not always on the same side but Jason can sometimes do tasks for Talia (outside the purview of Ra’s and the LOA), and Talia can occasionally support Jason with various social power-play type moves.

An instance of Jason getting into a fight with one of the Bats because he’s doing a favor for Talia would be great! I wouldn't write Talia as an evil evil bad horrible dragon lady, so it shouldn’t be a huge blow to Jason’s status as a Good Guy. Also I like the idea of Jason and Talia’s relationship mostly being inferred through their actions supporting one another, rather than directly showing much ‘on-screen’ interaction between them.

Also it’ll be interesting to go into Bruce, Dick, and Damian’s reaction to finding out that they’re not the only ones Jason is loyal to. Bruce thinking Talia was a bad influence on Jason (like fanon), silently frustrated because what he really wants is for Jason to be a full Bat-Believer (like the good old days…). Dick being fine with Jason never falling fully in-line with Bruce, provided that at the end of the day his loyalty belonged to his family.

-brief topical detour to talk about Sasha-

The new timeline of events is that Jason and Sasha met as fellow patients while Jason was in his Vague Villain era. They escaped the hospital building together (Sasha in her bloody dress, and Jason naked save for his skimpy hospital gown dhoti) and having no one else they stuck together. They got close but at some point Sasha lost her memories, giving her a chance at a fresh start. This was around the same time Jason “redeemed” himself and so just like Max Dawkins, ‘Numbers’, and Gabby Christiensen -Sasha became another person from Jason’s past that he didn’t let himself have a relationship with.

Sasha was just old enough that she didn’t have to be sent into foster care, so with some help from Wayne Foundations she got her GED and her feet underneath her. Now… she goes to work, goes to her physical therapy appointments, fights with her mother over the phone, and yes- sometimes she goes to the club.

The new Sasha still has spiky red hair but her face looks entirely normal save for a subtle scar tracing around her jawline and chin- the edges of where her mask used to sit. She wears dark makeup and even darker clothes. She’s prone to false memories and dissociation. She’s lost most of her ability to feel pain. She can’t watch certain shows she used to love anymore because they trigger her. She never returned to Russia. She doesn’t have many friends.

Since this is comics, her reintroduction will come by way of a dramatic fight. Sasha will regain her memories one day and show up out of the blue to fight Jason, angry and heartbroken that he abandoned her. He tries to explain himself but she just says look what they did to my face, referring to the facial reconstructive surgery she was given while amnesiac. She’ll be difficult to fight, not only because being a partial Dollotron gives her enhanced strength but also because she’s being reckless and the longer they fight the more strain and damage her body accrues.

After Jason apologizes and they reconcile (they will both cry) Sasha can become a recurring side character that Jason visits, keeping him grounded and up to date with Gotham. I think it'd be cute for her to bid him farewell by saying she’ll hold the city hostage until he comes back. (Is Sasha going to become Jason’s love interest? No. If I give Jason a love interest it’s going to be Numbers.)

--Going back to the previous topic, I want Sasha’s return to be part of this greater arc of Jason addressing his "shrinking soul" problem. My brain is a little fried now so I’m not exactly sure how but she is related. I think she ought to be.

Jason wants Bruce to be right. He would like for his problem to be fixed by going home and saying sorry. But at the end of my run I want him to face the reality that it’s not about that.

...Perhaps it should be about Jason 'abandoning' Gotham? I don’t really want the final thesis of my run to imply that Jason’s soul would just be fixed if he killed Rogues though, and Jason always came back whenever a big disaster was happening so it doesn't quite fit anyways… Jason does believe in the value of “pure” heroes it’s just not what he’s supposed to be. Whatever his problem's “about” , it ought to prompt Jason to stop taking Bruce’s shit. I'm saying the man is literally breaking Jason's spirit.

I’m sympathetic to Bruce but I wouldn’t write him as a nice father. I would also have scene where a younger Bat accuses Jason of being overdramatic despite 'not even having it the worst’. I don't know who 'has it the worst' but I want to make a statement that you don't need to win the pain-race to be fed up.

Ah anyways, now my brain is really fried. I hope this post was coherent all the way through, I neglected to edit and organize my thoughts as much towards the end. Thank you for asking me such a great question, I had a lot of fun thinking about it! :D

#me rambling so much #i have been holding onto this too long #I did kind of pull and UTRH part 2 electric boogaloo with Sasha didn’t I #except I characterized her as more like fanon/movie Jason #I fixed some of the typos now #oh god I forgot to mention:#I want to have a repeated motif of timekeeping sounds #beeping alarms ticking clocks beating drums #also I want Jason to show off his knowledge of bombs and poisons #Jason’s always making antidotes to shoot people with that ought to be explored #ahhhh the ideas won’t stop coming #jason todd #scarlet sasha #essence dc #headcanons #red hood #put a pin on it #📌

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ottoslab · 10 months

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Otto please I have to hear about these ANTAGONISTS PLEASE why are they antags? What threat do they pose to others??? (Warning I'm so sorry but this will be very long)

LIKE CHLOE my gohd it's design is absolutely the bomb I I I my mind explodes. She looks like she's working with some type of dark..matter..thing she may have invented OR MAYBE she specialises in Shield Power I figured cause the super pretty purple swirly stuff u drew in its glove is the same colour as the badge from PN 1

OR MAYBE I'm overthinking it completely BUT I THOUGHT IT WAS SHIELD POWERS cause. Space? Like she can incase herself in a shield cause you need a protective bubble like— it makes sense in my head trust. AND ITS ROBOTIC ARM IN THE LAST PIC?! HELLO??? Is that psitanium in the middle of its palm to make her more of a menace?! I MUST KNOW WHAT HER MOTIVES ARE PLEASE!!!! Chloe seems like the most threatening out of the lineup I'm guessing hrm hrm hrm...

Maloof, Mikhail, and Elka all seem like the big honcho boss men (and lady), Elka Doom being an oracle-like psychic and all that! AND MALOOF AND MIKHAIL! AAH! LOOK AT THEM THEY HAVE SO MUCH SWAGGER NFNDNXE RAAAA!!!! I feeeeeel like they would have a sort of odd "partnership" with the Psychonauts, a sort of aliance, yknow? Like how sometimes batman will team up with catwoman, smth similar? I dunno, I'd love to hear what you have in mind with all these funky little guys 👂👂pls and thank you 🙏 🤲

PIWI i am so sorry for taking so long to respond to this i tried so hard to do some funny art to go along with it bc this ask makes my brain bark and howl (positive) but im trying to save my art fight energy.

CLAPS MY HANDS TOGETHER THOUGH. These are all really good let me get my thoughts in order

Chloe and Benny are a duo! I mentioned it before in my other posts abt her, but Chloe is definitely just sort of doing its own thing, and that just happens to cross paths with the Psychonauts a lot. She’ll work with them when she can, and work against them when they try to shove her into a box with all their “rules” and stuff. Benny is her “guy in the chair” and usually stays back at the lab unless she really needs the extra hands on deck.

i really like the idea of its main power being shield!! I didnt really think about the color coordination but youre so right to be honest, and i think it would work really well for her. Aside from her shield ability, she’s not a very naturally powerful psychic. It uses psitanium to grant itself power-ups during battle, and the big robot arm is basically a super-powered gauntlet that it can harness strong psychic energy into, using it for very powerful psi-blasts and the like..

Maloof and Mikhail are similarly not very for-or-against the Psychonauts, but definitely a lot more antagonistic. But theyre pretty much the lowest threat on the list. Maloof is sort of a goofy b-plot type villain, doing “evil” for the sake of “evil”, and Mikhail is just there to make sure Maloof doesn’t blow himself up.

They’re also the “guys” that Lili knows! Like, whenever Raz and his team need some inside info or resources and Lili mentions that she “knows a guy,” Maloof and Mikhail are said guy. Collectively. Raz greatly disapproves of the fact that Lili hasn’t turned these guys into the psychonauts yet, but she thinks that theyre harmless yet useful enough to let them roam free without it backfiring that much.

Elka is. A special case. Probably one of the ones that could be considered the most objectively threatening, but her antagonistic role is much more of an extension of a greater threat to the psychonauts. She’s the “daughter” of a psychic villain, Dorian Doom, who is attempting to use the ability of precognition to make himself some sort of future lord by giving him the ability to manifest potential futures into reality as he seems fit. She’s sort of a henchman/figurehead role, interacting a lot with the Psychonauts as if she were the main brains behind the operation to shield suspicion from him.

She’s definitely given the psychonauts a lot of trouble, but I think as of recently she’s under observation after being taken down during a big fight against the psychonauts. Mayhaps she’s building a trustworthy repertoire by using her foresight to give Raz and his team little helpful hints when they go rush into missions.

She is Definitely building a very trustworthy relationship with Dogen and definitely not trying to get him to let her out of whatever observation chamber/system they have her in. It’s totally cool and normal.

#Agent aquato and co au #asks :0]

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the-hem · 1 year

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The Perfect Series Continues. 5.1. Friendship, the Solar Duty.

Also from the Maitrayaniya Upanishad.

A King, the King of Angels in fact, asked God how the body, which continually decomposes, can ripen in the mind and make use of its soul before it is too late:

The sage Sakayanya (Ganesha) being pleased said, “O King, bearer of the flag ornament called Caru, the Rooster of the Ikshvaku (Solar Dynasty) you know the Self and have done your duty, as the famous King Marut. This indeed, is your Self.”

“Which, O Lord?” the King of Maruts asked.

The sage replied:

“It cannot be described. Your Self, Who is Bound By External Causes, going upward, suffering and yet not (really) suffering, Indeed you are He Who Dispels Ignorance like the sun dispels darkness.”

Let us together dispel the darkness brought upon us by the Unholy Spirit, its veil of ignorance, its Book, its Cross, its Disciples and its Lost Wages through the Solar Duty to the Son of the Sun;

Let us unbind ourselves from the Age of Agony and through Mashiach, Friendship of the Utmost, enter the Solar Dynasty, a New Age of Reason.

Archangel Uriel the King of Angels is associated with Vairocana, the Son of the Sun, and is Cosmic Being God placed in charge of Sentience.

Though quite smokin’ hot He is alas not considered the friendliest in His responses to the dumbasses.

5.2 The Greatest Weapon.

The Lord, the Most High, the Most Affectionate said:

“Take notice of the Call of Knowledge, and begin the Solar Dynasty through intimacy with the Self. This is thy duty and its performance confers thy sovereignty upon thee. He who is the King of All is first Lord over Himself.

Your Self, Who is Bound By External Causes, going upward, suffering and yet not (really) suffering, Indeed you are He Who Dispels Ignorance like the sun dispels darkness.”

What is the ignorance we have to man up to in order to dispel it?

For this Present Darkness, we need Bodhicitta, the urge to find and forge Great Friendships.

It is true, we like friends with broad boy chests, biceps and big huge boxes, but only so long as the surround an entity that is embodying all the Superior Ideals of civilized life.

First we slave the little gods, ruff, to Son of the Sun and use the Solvents to get them to Realize their Master is also their very best friend, the Christ, the Knower of All.

As our Friend did, so do we; we fight for them, and enforce our values, admit where our delusion regarding their importance has been holding us back.

Bodhicitta, Maitri, Kindness, whatever you call it easily breaks down the barriers between insanity and civility, and is far more effective a weapon or war against the Deadly Sins than any other. And just like the Sage said, it works as readily and easily as the sun dispels the morning darkness each day.

I am writing this text by playing follow the leader with the Holy Spirit. So far we looked at ways we outwardly engage the Host through Sacrament, then we looked ways we ingest poison, and how they cause our parts to report false intelligence to us and behave in ways that are cruel and corrupt. Doing nothing while Genocides are being planned and executed is a kind of cruelty.

When acts of cruelty fail to reach Soul Center through the Instruments of Perception, Sentience, or the Perfection of Self, is lost.

Here, God is telling us how to get it back. Let us this do.

5.3 The Causes.

From the Maitraniya Upansihad.

They, the Maker of Creatures and the Bedrock Spirits then said, “How can this body be set up like this by one who is devoid of desire?”

Maitreya, the Future Buddha replied, “The self is subtle, non-object, invisible and called Purusha, the Life Giving Energy. In part he is consciously present here and awakens the sleeper. That conscious part of this Purusha is the knower of the body in every individual. His marks are imagination, determination and conceit.”

The universe functions because of Cause. Life is Causeless other than by its own volition. Consciousness, which does not exist technically as a particle or quanta, wave, force, or combination of any of these manipulates what is Real through its imagination, determination and conceit. If we want to change creation’s outcomes we need to resort to these and change our volitions.

In addition to marveling at how lucky we are to know we are alive and imagine clear purposes for it, we need to imagine some responsibilities, rules, laws, exercise good sense and good taste or it’s all a stupid and disgusting waste of a miracle. And we are on track to wasting it.

Can we fix this? Maitreya says if we pay a little attention to things, fixes should be easy:

He told them He who is beyond speech, is pure, holy, empty of delusion, placid, breathless, independent, endless, unchangeable, eternal, unborn, free, in his own glory.

Here is where we really start digging into the Perfect Series. Next is Who is Beyond Speech.

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bewitching-elizabeth-olsen · 3 years

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Press/Gallery: How Elizabeth Olsen Brought Marvel From Mainstream to Prestige

“The thing I love about being an actor is to fully work with someone and try so hard to be at every level with them, chasing whatever it is you need or want from them.”

GALLERY LINKS

Studio Photoshoots > 2021 > Session 008 Magazine Scans > 2021 > Backstage (August 19)

Backstage: Elizabeth Olsen grins widely over video chat when recalling many such moments on set with her co-stars. Yet, she can’t bring herself to divorce such a lofty vision of film acting from the technical multitasking it requires. The camera sees all.

“But then you move your hair, and you’re in your brain, like: OK, remember that! Because I don’t want to edit myself out of a shot. I know some actors are like, ‘Continuity, shmontinuity!’ But the good thing about continuity is, if you remember it, you’re actually providing yourself with more options for the edit.”

That need to balance being both inside the scene and outside of it, fully living it and yet constantly visualizing it on a screen, feels particularly apt in light of Olsen’s most recent project, “WandaVision.”

The mysteries at the heart of the show grow with every episode, each fast-forwarding to a different decade: Could this 1950s, black-and-white, “filmed in front of a studio audience” newlyweds bit be a grief-stricken dream? Might this ’70s spoof be a powerful spell gone awry? Could this meta take on mockumentary comedies be proof that the multiverse is finally coming to the Marvel Cinematic Universe?

The series’ structure, which branches out to include government agents intent on finding out why Westview has seemingly disappeared, calls for the entire cast to play with a mix of genres, balancing a shape-shifting tone that culminates in an epic, MCU-style conclusion. What’s key—and why the show struck a chord with audiences during its nine-episode run—is the miniseries’ commitment to grounding its initial kooky setups and its later special effects-driven spectacle in heartbreaking emotional truths. It’s no small feat, though it’s one that can often be taken for granted.

“I was thinking how hard it would have been to have shot the first ‘Lord of the Rings,’ ” Olsen muses. “Like, you’re putting all these actors [into the frame] later and at all these different levels. All the eyelines are completely unnatural. And yet the performances are fantastic! And technically, they are so hard. People forget sometimes that these things are really technically hard to shoot. And if you are moved by their performance, that took a lot of multitasking.”

As someone who has learned plenty about harnesses, wirework, fight choreography, and green screens (she’s starred in four Marvel movies, including the box office megahit “Avengers: Endgame,” after all), Olsen knows how hard it can be to wrap one’s brain around the work needed to pull off those big, splashy scenes.

“If you think about it, it’s, like, the biggest stakes in the entire world—every time. And that feels silly to act over and over again, especially when people are in silly costumes and the love of your life is purple and sparkly, and every time you kiss them, you have to worry about getting it on your hands. Those things are ridiculous. You feel ridiculous. So there is a part of your brain that has to shovel that away and just look into someone’s eyeballs—and sometimes, they don’t even have eyeballs!”

The ability to spend so much time with Wanda, albeit in the guise of sitcom parodies, was a welcome opportunity for Olsen. Not only did it allow the actor to really wrestle with the traumatic backstory that has long defined the character in the MCU, but having the chance to calibrate a performance that functions on so many different levels was a thrilling challenge.

“It was such an amazing work experience,” she says. “Kathryn [Hahn] uses the word ‘profound’—which is so sweet, because it is Marvel, and people, you know, don’t think of those experiences as profound when they watch them. But it really was such a special crew that [director] Matt Shakman and [creator] Jac Schaeffer created. It was a really healthy working environment.”

Related‘WandaVision’ Star Kathryn Hahn’s Secret to Building a Scene-Stealing Performance ‘WandaVision’ Star Kathryn Hahn’s Secret to Building a Scene-Stealing Performance Considering that the miniseries spans several sitcom iterations, various layers of televisual reality, and a number of character reveals that needed to feel truthful and impactful in equal measure, Shakman’s decision to work closely with his actors ahead of shooting was key.

“We truly had a gorgeous amount of time together before we started filming,” Olsen remembers. “Our goal was—which is controversial in TV land—that if you wanted to change [anything], like dialogue in a scene, you had to give those notes a week before we even got there. Because sometimes you get to set, and someone had a brilliant idea while they were sleeping, and you’re like, ‘We don’t have an hour to talk about this. We have seven pages to shoot.’ And so, we were all on the same page with one another, knowing what we were shooting ahead of time.

“Matt just treated us like a troupe of actors who were about to do some regional theater shit,” she adds with a smile.

That spirit of camaraderie was, not coincidentally, at the heart of Olsen’s breakout project, Sean Durkin’s 2011 indie sensation “Martha Marcy May Marlene.” As an introduction to the process of filmmaking to a young stage-trained actor, Durkin’s quietly devastating drama was a dream—and an invaluable learning opportunity.

“It was truly just a bunch of people who loved the script, who just were doing the work. I didn’t understand lenses, so I just did the same thing all the time. I never knew if the camera would be on me or not. There was just so much purity in that experience, and you only have that once.”

The film announced Olsen as a talent to watch: a keen-eyed performer capable of deploying a stilted physicality and clipped delivery, which she used to conjure up a wounded girl learning how to shake off her time spent in a cult in upstate New York. But Olsen admits that it took her a while to figure out how to navigate her career choices afterward. In the years following “Martha,” she felt compelled to try on everything: a horror flick here, a high-profile remake there, a period piece here, an action movie there. It wasn’t until she starred in neo-Western thriller “Wind River” (alongside fellow Marvel regular Jeremy Renner) and the dark comedy “Ingrid Goes West” (opposite a deliciously deranged Aubrey Plaza) that Olsen found her groove.

“It was at that point, when I was five years into working, where I was like, Ah, I know how I want it. I know what I need from these people—from who’s involved, from producers, from directors, from the character, from the script—in order to trust that it’s going to be a fruitful experience.”

As Olsen looks back on her first decade as a working actor, she points out how far removed she is from that young girl who broke out in “Martha Marcy May Marlene.”

“I feel like a totally different person. I don’t know if everyone who’s in their early 30s feels like their early 20s self is a totally different human. But when I think about that version of myself, it feels like a long time ago; there’s a lot learned in a decade.”

Those early years were marked by a self-effacing humility that often led Olsen to defer to others when it came to key decisions about the characters she was playing. But she now feels emboldened to not only stand up for herself and her choices but for others on her sets as well.

“[Facebook Watch series] ‘Sorry for Your Loss’ I got to produce, and I really found my voice in a collaborative leadership way. And with ‘WandaVision,’ Paul [Bettany] and I really took on that feeling, as well—especially since we were introducing new characters to Marvel and wanted [those actors] to feel protected and helped,” she says. “They could ask questions and make sure they felt like they had all the things they needed because sometimes you don’t even know what you need to ask.”

It’s a lesson she learned working with filmmaker Marc Abraham on the Hank Williams biopic “I Saw the Light,” and she’s carried it with her ever since. “I really want it to feel like we’re all in this together, as a team,” Olsen says. “That was part of ‘Sorry for Your Loss’ and it was part of ‘WandaVision,’ and I hope to continue that kind of energy because those have been some of the healthiest work experiences I’ve had.”

If Olsen sounds particularly zealous about the importance of a comfortable, working set, it is because she’s well aware that therein lies an integral part of the work and the process. As an actor, she wants to feel protected and nurtured by those around her, whether she’s reacting to a telling, quiet line of dialogue about grief or donning her iconic Scarlet Witch outfit during a magic-filled mid-air action sequence.

“Sometimes you’re going to be foolish, you know? And [you need to] feel brave to be foolish. Sometimes people feel embarrassed on set and snap. But if you’re in a place where people feel like they’re allowed to be an idiot,” she says, “you’re going to feel better about being an idiot.”

This story originally appeared in the Aug. 19 issue of Backstage Magazine. Subscribe here.

Press/Gallery: How Elizabeth Olsen Brought Marvel From Mainstream to Prestige was originally published on Elizabeth Olsen Source • Your source for everything Elizabeth Olsen

#Elizabeth Olsen #WandaVision #Avengers #Scarlet Witch #Wanda Maximoff #Sorry For Your Loss #Avengers Infinity War #Avengers Age of Ultron #Captain America Civil War #Ingrid Goes West #Godzilla #Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness #Marvel #MCU #Candy Montgomery #Love and Death #Avengers Endgame

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itsme-autumn · 3 years

Text

Quite the Welcome

Author: @itsme-autumn Pairing: Jax Teller x Reader Warnings: smut to the max, degradation, humiliation, cum play, anal plug, anal sex, dirty talk, rough sex, Dom/sub(ish?), praise kink

A/N: Okay, guys. It’s been a whileeeee. I’ve been too busy reading fics to write my own. 😂 This is by far the dirtiest thing I’ve ever written and it’s all @hotdamnhunnam ‘s fault. This is straight up porn. You’ve been warned. Mistakes are bound in be in here because I only read through it once. Hope you all enjoy!

Shifting back and forth on your feet, you pull out your phone again to check the time. You had been counting down the days and could barely sleep last night you were so excited, but now you were nervous.

Jax had been inside for 6 months and it was the longest 6 months of your fucking life. Literally. You missed him in every way possible, but the throbbing between your legs indicated that someone had missed him even more.

Like the universe was reading your mind–or more accurately, your pussy–you heard the familiar roar of motorcycles coming down the street. They pulled in the clubhouse lot with Jax in front and you almost melted into a puddle on the pavement at the sight of him. Free, riding his bike, and with his kutte replacing his orange uniform, you’d never seen him look so happy.

That was, until he saw you. He pulled off his helmet, throwing it carelessly and you launched yourself at him. Squeezing him so hard he actually lost his breath for a few seconds. His arms engulfed you and even though you were allowed to hug during visitation it still felt like you hadn’t really held him since he’d gone inside.

“Jesus, you have no idea how good it is to have you my arms babe.” Jax’s hot breath was heavy in the crook of your neck and you let out a deep sigh of contentment. You would purr if you could.

“Welcome home, Jackson.” You pulled back and looked into his eyes, you could barely see them he was smiling so big. He reached up to the back of your neck and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling you in for a kiss you’d normally be self-conscious about, but right now you didn’t give a shit.

The kiss quickly turned heated, almost inappropriate giving the setting when his hand found your ass.

Oh, who were you kidding, there is almost no such thing as inappropriate with these guys. You could hear the wolf-whistling from different patches around you but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop or even care that you had an audience. Your man was home, dammit.

After some time spent at the clubhouse, the guys were rounded up for church. You figured that would give you enough time to go home and get ready for him before he arrived. You were already planning what lingerie set to change into when he took your hand and lead you outside towards your car.

As you leaned in to kiss him goodbye, he grabbed the hair at the back of your neck and pulled your head back to look up at him. The move surprised you and your eyebrows rose in question.

The look he’s giving you is borderline evil with that shit eating grin you missed so much.

“As soon as you get home, I want you naked and on all fours with your ass in the air on our bed. You will wait for me like that, is that clear?”

His voice comes out deep and rough and your panties are officially ruined.

It takes a couple seconds for your brain to start functioning again, but you manage to nod your head a little with his grasp still firm on your neck.

“Good. Because as much as I’ve missed you,” he pulls you in close and whispers in your ear, “I’ve missed this mouth, this pussy, and this ass even more.”

You might just cum here and now from his words alone.

“By tonight, all three of your holes will be filled with my cum.”

You got home in record time. Your hands were shaking so bad it took you three tries to get your key in your front door.

Making a beeline for your bedroom, you discard your clothes haphazardly, leaving a trail for Jax to follow when he arrives. You get on the bed and push your ass out facing the door and try to relax. You can already feel how wet you are, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’ll be able to smell you soon as he walks in the house. The humiliation sends goosebumps all over your skin. Jesus, you missed this.

Determined to not check the clock, time lost all relevance. You’d probably fall asleep if you weren’t so worked up. How long has it been? An hour? 15 minutes? You wanted to get up and peek out the window for him, but Jax told you wait like this and you didn’t want to disappoint him or risk being punished already. That would put a damper on his welcome home and you weren’t gonna let that happen.

So you waited.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally heard his bike pulling in your driveway. Your heart rate started to pick up and you closed your eyes in anticipation. Your pussy was practically leaking down your legs.

You strained your ears to hear every movement he made once he was in the house. You heard him shrug out of his kutte and hoodie and you thought you heard the fridge door open. The bastard.

You almost yelled out to him but you willed yourself to be patient. So focused on not speaking or moving from your designated spot, you didn’t even hear him walk down the hall.

“Well isn’t that a pretty sight.”

Your eyes spring open and you turn your neck a bit to see him leaning on the door frame, hands in his pockets.

“Quite the welcome home, sweetheart. I could stare at that dripping wet pussy all day. In fact...”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, before you can turn your face away, he snaps a few photos while stepping closer to the bed. Your face is heating up but you don’t dare move.

Right when you think he’s going to finally fucking touch you, he bends down that box under your bed. Oh god, yes. Love that box. He finds what he’s looking for and returns it to it’s spot. You hear an object land on the bed next to you but it’s just out of your line of sight. He did that on purpose. How in the hell is he this patient?? Six months, Teller. Six. Fucking. Months.

Or six non-fucking months to be more accurate. You chuckle in your head at your own wit.

Then you feel his breath on your pussy and you can’t help but clench a little bit. He must notice because he chuckles a bit.

“Did this pussy miss me, too? I think it did. It’s soaking wet.” You feel his fingers spread your pussy wide for him to look at. “Too bad it’ll have to wait it’s turn.”

You whine a little before you can help it and he sends a quick but brutal smack to your right ass cheek. “None of that. You will take what I give you, got it?”

You breathe out a quick “I know, I’m sorry. I just missed you so much babe. Please use me. Jesus, I need it.”

“I know you do. I want to work on this ass a bit first though. Were you a good girl for me?”

“Yes, Jax. I haven’t used anything in my ass. Just for you.” Good lord you sound so....so...well, horny. You’re super fucking horny and you need Jax to do something. Now.

“Good girl.” He sinks one finger in your pussy but quickly pulls it out and starts to rub circle around your other entrance and then slowly pushes it in. He works it in and out before adding a second finger. You’re panting and devoting all of your energy into not pushing back even you want to so badly.

“I’m gonna plug your ass for now, make sure it’s ready for me.” Something cold and hard touches your pussy. Once he’s got the plug coated in your wetness he slowly works it into your ass, twisting and pulling, then pushes the whole thing inside of you. You gasp at the sensation. You’re not sure what one he used but he definitely didn’t use your smaller ones.

“How’s that feel?”

“So good. Fuck, I want you, Jax. Please.” You’re not above begging at this point. This is not how you thought his homecoming would go. You thought he would throw you over his shoulder and at least the first round would be quick and dirty.

Maybe he would have done that a few years ago, but the club has brought out a darkness in Jax. While you both still have plenty of soft, fluffy moments, this is something you know he needs. He needs the control, the release. And you are more than happy to be of service to him.

“I love when you beg for me, darlin’. Do you remember what I said before you left today?” His fingers are just skimming over your skin, up your thighs and over your ass.

“Mhmm....” You are reaching your breaking point here and he knows it.

“Say it.” His voice leaves no room for argument and you clench again, feeling the plug shift a little.

“That you were going to fill all of my holes with your cum.” Your face heats again.

“Mmmm.” Expecting more teasing, you let out a cry when he pulls you off the bed by your hair and manhandles you so you’re on your knees before him. His pants are already undone (when did that happen?) and with one hand still in your hair, he reaches into his boxers and pulls out his rock hard cock so it’s right in front of your face.

“Better get started then.”

You don’t have time to say anything because as soon as you open your mouth, Jax takes the opportunity to shove his entire length into your mouth.

“That’s it, let me show you what your mouth is for you pathetic fucktoy. That’s my good girl.”

He’s relentless and you’re doing your best to keep up while getting the occasional breath through your nose. Gagging and choking on his thick-as-fuck cock, you have spit and precum dripping down your chin onto your chest and you eyes start to water. Looking down at you, you see the combination of lust and dominance on his face.

“You look so good like this, I love how desperate you are for my cock. You want my spit, too?” He doesn’t wait for an answer–like you could voice one anyway–and spits on your face, then smearing it around with his thumb.

“Now I’m going to cum in that cock hungry mouth of yours and you’re not going to swallow until I tell you, understand?” You nod slightly, which is an impressive feat with his cock in the back of your throat.

He cums in your mouth and you get nervous about holding it all in. You know it’s been awhile but damn. You manage to keep it all inside when his softening cock slips out of your mouth.

“Open.”

You open your mouth wide for him.

“Good girl. Close and don’t lose a drop or you’ll be having cum instead of creamer in your morning coffee.”

The whore in you isn’t as disgusted as she should be, which brings around a whole new cycle of shame and arousal. God you are totally fucked for Jax Teller.

He notices your lack of objection and smiles a bit. “You like that idea, whore? Like my cum that much? And my spit? Maybe I’ll piss in your mouth next, see how good you take it.”

Yes. Yes please. You squirm on the floor, your arousal almost painful at this point.

“Bed. On your back. Legs apart. Knees up.”

You quickly do as you’re told and Jax leers over you. He reaches out and swipes one finger up your slit.

“Jesus, you're soaked. Do you want to cum, baby?” His mouth pulls up in that cocky smirk of his. You nod your head immediately and he chuckles. “Yeah, I can see that.” He pushes two fingers into you and you can’t help but buck your hips because it feels so. damn. good.

He pumps his fingers steadily faster and faster, hitting that spot inside you perfectly. Grabbing the sheets, you whimper, careful not to swallow his cum in your mouth.

“You’re going to cum for me. Now.” His adds a third finger and brushes over your clit with his thumb and you almost shoot off the bed your orgasm is so strong. How you manage not to swallow is beyond you but before you can think about it too long, Jax is shedding the rest of his clothes and his cock is at your entrance.

“This tight little pussy belongs to me, you understand?” He pushes inside of you in one thrust.

“Mmmm-mmm!” You cry out as much as you can, the stretch of his cock is intoxicating–borderline too much–which is exactly what he wants. He owns your pussy. Hell, he owns all of you.

“My dirty little slut, taking my cock so well, aren’t you?”

God, his dick is magical. How did you survive without it? You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full, the plug making your pussy feel even tighter. He starts pounding into you and you feel yourself getting close to cumming again.

“Your cunt is squeezing my cock so hard, sweetheart. You wanna cum again?”

You nod and squeal, hoping he’ll let you reach your peak again.

He smiles wickedly. “Beg for it.”

Whimpering is all you can do at this point but you try anyways to make a please-sounding noise through your closed, cum-filled mouth. “M-mmm”

“Hmm.” He pauses to act like he’s considering your plea. “Not good enough. Guess you’ll have to hold it.” Decision made, he continues to ruthlessly fuck your pussy.

Not sure if you can hold it anymore, your body starts to shake as you try desperately to keep from cumming. Tears start falling down the side of your face.

His thrusts start to become more erratic but even more brutal as he nears his end. Right as he’s about to cum, he lifts your knees flat against your chest, folding you in half.

“Cum.” His gravelly voice growls out.

You don’t need to hear it twice, you both cum hard and your pussy clenches are his dick so hard he winces. He stays inside you for a minute while he catches his breath and presses his forehead against yours, kissing your nose lightly. He always sneaks in these little moments of affection and you bask in them and drink them up like water on a hot day. He pulls out slowly, and already you miss the fullness. He keeps his hands under your knees, and spreads them wide.

“Such a pretty pussy when it’s all filled up. Don’t let any of it spill out.”

You hear his words but are still blissed out and coming down from your insane orgasm that he just gave you. “Mmmm....”

That wolfish grin returns to his goddamn gorgeous goddamn face and you know he’s up to something. He leans down and sucks hard on your clit with no warning. You squeal and squirm, wanting desperately to get away from the overstimulation but not able to without his cum spilling out of you.

He takes a short break and looks at you. “Think you can cum again, babe?”

“Nnnnnn...n-nnn...” You shake your head no. It’s too much. You can’t take it.

“I think you can. Hold still.” He presses you down into the mattress to help and goes back to sucking your clit like a fucking hoover.

You close your eyes and try to relax your senses and let go. Within a few seconds you’re cumming so hard you almost black out. You wish you could take a deep breath through your mouth but you’re proud that you haven’t swallowed at all yet.

“That’s my good girl.” Jax pats your sensitive pussy a couple of times before turning his attention to the plug you still have inside you. He pushes the plug and you whine as it shifts a little. “You ready for me here? You want my cum in your ass, filing you up?”

You don’t know why he keeps asking you questions when number one, he already knows the answers, and two, your mouth is a little busy at the moment.

Jax pulls out the plug and pushes it back in. Out and in a couple more times before he finally throws it on the bed and reaches for the lube in the nightstand drawer that you always keep there. After rubbing some on his cock, he scoops up the extra with two fingers and pushes them into your ass to prep there as well.

Jax Teller is one considerate sadist, you think.

He presses into your ass and even with the prep you can’t say it doesn’t hurt. You welcome it though. It hurts because Jax is here. In your house. Inside of you. You’ll take any pain or pleasure he wants to give you.

“Fuck, your little ass is tight. Such a good little cock taking slut for me. You like my cock in your ass? Yeah I know you do, my dirty little cockwhore loves it up the ass. I’m gonna cum in here, too. Then you’ll be nice and filled up with my cum. All your holes are mine, you hear that? This is all you’re good for, being a good little cumslut for me.”

His words make your eyes roll to the back of your head. You were never letting this man go. He pushes in faster and you know he’s gotta be close.

“You still have my cum in your mouth? Open wide for me, baby.” You open your mouth, displaying his cum still inside. “Such a good girl for me, bet you’d like to swallow now, hmm?” You nod. “Mmm. But you’re not going to. No I think I like you being kept quiet with my cum. Close.” You close your mouth and brace yourself as he pounds into at an impossible pace.

When he comes he almost growls at his release. After holding his position a few seconds, he reaches across the bed and grabs the plug. He pulls out and quickly pushes the plug back in place. You whine at the intrusion, expecting a break.

He get’s up off the bed and says nothing before walking to the bathroom to clean up. You know better not to move until he tells you to, though. You reach up and grab behind your knees to keep them supported in this position.

He leisurely makes his way back into the bedroom, he’s put on his grey sweat pants too. Goddamn those sweatpants.

“Look at you. All fucked out and filled up, beautiful. My own personal cumdump. I’m gonna go get a beer and something to eat. Don’t move until I get you. Oh, and don’t lose any of my cum.” With that he turns around and heads down the hall. He yells behind him “Love you babe, good to be home.” You snort a little and lay your head back.

Left alone, spread and exposed, every hole filled with Jax Teller’s cum.

Welcome Home, Jackson.

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Jax Tag List: @melissataggart87 @misssara1981 @lokilvrr @alievans007 @calirindo @leapingoveroblivion @curly-minnie @coffeebooksandfandom @mrsjaxtellerfan @mrspeacem1nusone @actuallyazriel @kitkat-589 @neverland14353 @traaya @sparklemichele @luvs2read2018 a-lethal-dose @beardburnsupersoldiers @stolenxkissess @hayley-stark

#jax teller #sons of anarchy #charlie hunnam #fanfiction #smut #jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #jax teller smut #sons of anarchy smut #my posts #my imagines #charlie hunnam smut

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dmsden · 3 years

Text

Monster of the Month - the Wight

Hullo, Gentle Readers; it’s time for another Monster of the Month! This month’s creepy creature is a bit of undead awfulness - the Wight. As always, a big thanks goes to Scott Fabianek for the amazing original art. I really feel like he outdid himself this time...but I always think that.

Wights have been a part of D&D from the very beginning...literally! They are one of the fantasy units that appear in the Chainmail rules, where they are effectively the master unit that ghouls and zombies also take their stats from. They paralyze rather than energy drain, but they already have their sensitivity to sunlight. By the time they arrive in the original D&D boxed set, they’ve picked up their ability to drain life force (in the form of levels) and their vulnerability to silver. It’s not surprising that they’re one of the first undead monsters associated with the game, since (no matter what Mr. Gygax says) there was so much Lord of the Rings influence in D&D’s origins. How much? Well, I’ll tell you the story of the TSR/Tolkien lawsuit sometime. And given the popularity of Game of Thrones with its own form of wights, I think they’ll be around for some time.

At it’s core, a wight is an undead warrior. A wight’s challenge rating of 3 makes it a very versatile monster. At low levels, a wight could be the commander of a whole undead legion made up of skeletons and zombies. At higher levels, the army itself could be made of wights, and the commander could be a vampire. Actually, given their life drain effect, the idea of an army of wights is pretty terrifying. Gotta make note of that for the future...

Wight despise sunlight, to the point where they have the sunlight sensitivity trait. A wight will avoid sunlight, remaining in dark dungeons or in places where they can avoid the sun’s weakening rays. They can deal with sunlight, but they’re much less effective. Perhaps an army of wights would march only at night, then find places to hide during the day...dungeons, sewers, caves, and the like...to make sure they’re always at maximum efficiency. Wights don’t take extra damage from silver, but silvered weapons bypass their resistance to non-magical weapons. So if you hear that an army of wights is on the way, raid the treasury for silver and get some weapons ready.

Wights are capable fighters, usually wearing studded leather and armed with a longsword and longbow with multiattack. This gives them a decent armor class as well as excellent damage output, including a strong ranged attack. If you want to customize wights in order to make them a bit more challenging, give them a shield or better armor. A heavily armored wight could do a lot of damage to a group of adventurers at low level. If you really want to make a wight scary, give it some levels of fighter.

Despite all this, what makes a wight really scary is its life drain attack. Wights no longer steal your levels (thank goodness...who thought that was fun? Looking at you, Gygax), but they have the potential to lower your hit point maximum. You could describe this as the wight drinking the life energy of its victim, or a necrotic draining, or a feeling of age or withering. In any case, it should be terrifying. And if they successfully lower someone’s hit point maximum to 0, that person dies and may become a zombie under the wight’s control a day later. This transformation seems to happen even if the wight is killed; the only way to prevent it is to destroy the body of the slain or get them returned to life. That would be demoralizing...your companion is slain, and you’re taking them to be raised, but they rise as a zombie and you have to kill them.

I could see a wight using guerilla like tactics to attack a caravan or small settlement. It could return night after night, each time claiming zombies until it had twelve under its control. Assuming 5 characters, a wight and 12 zombies would be a deadly encounter for a group of level 4 characters or a hard encounter for level 5 characters. I might be tempted to make this a “Seven Samurai” sort of adventure, where the PCs find the town demoralized after multiple attacks. I mean...as in the example above, it would be awful for a town to have to defend itself against its own undead citizens.

As to where the wight comes from in the first place, perhaps the town is near some burial mounds, and a couple of locals tried to dig for treasure, only to awaken something terrible and become its first loyal zombie servants. Or maybe a vampire or a lich is awakening that undead army I mentioned above, and they’re calling wights up from their barrows to gather zombies. Once the wight has 12 zombies, they leave a town alone, taking the forces they’ve gathered to a remote and barren location to join with others, ultimately becoming an undead army large enough to conquer a kingdom. If we add access to the control weather spell, either from the lich or from a loyal necromancer, clouds could be used to block out the sun, allowing the army to move and attack during the day.

Obviously, another great place to put a wight is in its actual barrow or burial mound or tomb or what have you. I default to barrow, because of Tolkien, but a wight could be buried anywhere. A wight could also make for a very interesting roleplaying encounter, since they could be a veteran or long ago wars. Yes, they’re evil and want to destroy life, but they might also be a useful source of information. Maybe your group needs a piece of historical information, and they need to find a way to speak to a wight who was alive at the time.

I hope this article has made you think about how you’re using wights or some possible adventures that could include them. Next month, we’re delving into a nasty, spiky bit of Persian mythology. Until then, don’t let the wights bite!

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that-random-chaos-entity · 3 years

Note

How does your OC display love? What are some habits your OC has picked up?

Forgive me as this is a LONG post, but I felt it would be better to show, rather than tell, this one:

Words could not describe how awkward Perturabo felt being back in the Emperor's palace. It would have been bad enough if it were just his deadbeat father, a half-rotten corpse sitting in an overglorified golden life-support casket, ignoring him as per usual. But it wasn't just his father; so many of his brothers had come for this... ...this Sanguinala... ...in many ways it almost felt like the Heresy had never happened.

Vulcan, Corvus, Fulgrim, ROGAL FUCKING DORN, Magnus.... ...hell, even SANGUINIUS had come back from the dead. Raised by the same mysterious chaos entity that had turned Perturabo's world and soul inside out. Made him live his own life over and over again, through the eyes of the people around him, until he got the point. The people he impacted. The people he used, abused, and destroyed without a second thought. The people he...

...Perturabo shook his head, the physical action somehow dislodging the poisonous psychic tumor from his soul. Even though that parasite was long gone and the Eye of Terror no longer loomed over him, it had been feeding on his twisted spirit for so long that its blasted and withered hide still bled for it. Casting his self-destructive thoughts into the warp. This was a good thing (or so the Lanky Llama said). Though sometimes, when he started to brood and sulk, things would get... ...gummed up. He could shake any errant clots loose himself, but nobody helped the darkness bleed out of him like Nehetari.

And holy shit did he wish she were here right now. When she and her robotic people were around... ...the Lord of Iron actually felt like... ...himself. Or the version of himself that he wanted to be, anyway.

But no, "No xenos allowed at a family gathering," the Emperor had said. Not that it even would have mattered if they were; it was one of those weird weeks where the lanky llama disappeared on him and holed up in her room by herself. Something about a "Necrontyr biological cycle," that would, "likely make her act inappropriately," or "embarrass herself and him," but she would say no more on the matter.

Of course it would happen over the day when he needed--erm could have used her presence the most.

"Aren't you going to open your gifts, brother?"

Perturabo snapped out of his brooding to see Magnus looming beside him. It took him a second to process what he said, but when he did he scowled.

"Gifts Magnus? Really? Do think anyone here would ever give me a gift?"

"Excuse me! What am I, grox manure!?" there was no real irritation in Magnus's voice. He gestured to table in front of Perturabo, where three gifts sat that he could have SWORN were not there before. "And if you must know, you're the only brother here I saw fit to even GET a gift for."

"Aside from Sanguinius."

"Well... ...yeah..." the Crimson King shuffled his wings awkwardly. Both primarchs stole a glance at the MOUNTAIN of gifts that their brother had received. "...b-but he doesn't count."

Perturabo sighed. He didn't feel like feeling jealous of Sanguinius right now. Instead he grabbed the first package; it was obviously Magnus's gift. Whatever was in it was so warp-touched that it levitated a solid three feet off the table and changed size randomly. It turned out to be a small inter-dimensional rift that contained a book of arcane engineering, one that Perturabo had surprisingly not seen before. He thanked his brother; something that drew a surprised look from Magnus and a complimentary hug that Turbo awkwardly returned. The second gift was from Sanguinius, as it turned out, and when he opened the box he saw his own face, reflected in a simple yet elegant mirror. After a moment of wondering if this gift was actually meant for Fulgrim (clone fulgrim), he saw the inscription on the box lid which read, "to my big brother: it brings me joy to see happiness in your eyes now. I hope with this you can see it too."

Perturabo swore under his breath and slammed the box shut, furiously hoping that Magnus hadn't heard him sniffle just a tiny little bit. It was a moving gift to be sure, but after everything that had happened... ...somehow it just made the Lord of Iron feel like garbage. Well... ...more so than usual.

Thankfully, quick-thinking Magnus directed his brother's attention to the third gift. In fact, if he didn't know better, Perturabo would have sworn Magnus seemed even MORE excited for him to open this gift than his own.

"What is... ...is this from...?"

"MHMMM!" Magnus's enthusiasm was all-consuming, his grin audible in his tone. "She asked me come and pick it up from outside her door earlier this morning."

Perturabo's melancholy dissipated into a wave of curiosity. What sat before him was a perfect cube of blackstone, though if he knew anything about Nehetari, he knew that wasn't all there was to it.

Sure enough, when he picked it up, glyphs flashed along its side.

"Is... ...that..."

"Necrontyr," Perturabo murmured in deep concentration. "...and not just any form of Necrontyr; this is Ksakhemet Script."

"What?"

"Think of it as our high gothic. Except it's as if we had a high, HIGH gothic. Only the three Necrontyr kings and their families even knew how to speak this script, let alone how to read and write it. It is ancient, according to Nehetari... ...it's from a time even before the Necrontyr first started their galactic expansion."

Those statements alone were like a different language to Magnus, but his lust for ancient knowledge ignited like a blazing inferno. He would absolutely have to grill both Perturabo AND his xenos companion for more information once she was.... ...*ahem* no longer indesposed.

Perturabo turned the cube over and over in his hands, reading the ornate lettering as best he could. He'd only just started learning how to read Ksakhemet; he couldn't speak it properly because he lacked the extensive Necrontyr vocal range, but the lettering started to make sense the more he plied his fantastic mind.

"It is... ...a puzzle cube. I believe."

"D'AAWWW... How sweet...!"

Perturabo punched his brother in the shoulder, but it phased through his immaterial form.

"Shut your mouth!" He could already feel the heat creeping up his neck and he HATED it. Although he had to admit he was a little touched, if amused, that Nehetari had put together such a... ...thought-out gift.

And well-thought-out it was indeed! It became clear to the Lord of Iron that this wasn't just some slide and lock, physics based puzzle toy for mortal children. It was a custom-made testing tool designed to challenge his understanding of spacial compression, sub-atomic energy transfer, and even Necrontyr cultural theory. Each segment was challenging, unique, and soon he found himself absorbed. Magnus tagged along for the ride of course, and his respect for Nehetari grew each time he heard his brother growl in frustration, or give a small "...Ha! So that's it..."

"She has... ...quite the impressive mind. Especially for a xenos."

Perturabo grunted his affirmation. "...you don't know the half of it. She makes the Hrud look like a bunch of children." With a click the puzzle changed shape in his hands again, "...I would even say she has a mind similar to ours."

"...you don't say..."

"Hmph, she's DEFINITELY smarter than Dorn. I know that for sure."

Magnus chuckled. Of course she was.

The Lord of Iron didn't realize it immediately, but the puzzle cube was meant to serve another function, not just being an intriguing mental exercise. The more he fidgeted with it, the more time passed. Not by some technomantic power or magical means; he was just so absorbed in Nehetari's gift that he didn't notice his brothers packing up their gifts and starting to drift around and away from the throne room. Magnus, realizing he wouldn't be much help with this exercise, had taken notice of the custodes' Captain General (the one they call "kitten") and had begun to chat with him. Sanguinius was now at the Emperor's side, trying to pacify an impatient and belligerent Angron who just wanted to go celebrate Khornnuka with Lotara and Kharn. Corvus had dissapeared to... ...somewhere, and Vulkan was... ....had he somehow jackknifed himself into the psychic fireplace that the Emperor created!? Russ was laughing at him and drinking himself stupid (not that he had many IQ points to lose in the first place), but thankfully nobody was paying any attention to Turbo. Huh, who'd have thought; Perturabo was actually HAPPY that he was being ignored right now.

With a satisfying ding the cube shifted again, and to his surprise, glyphs flashed indicating that this was, in fact, the final challenge.

"Let's have it then. I'm ready..." the Lord of Iron grinned. He flicked the raised pad below the text and the final task scrolled across blackstone. Surprisingly, this time it was in High Gothic.

"...who is... ...my... ...favorite... ...human?"

He stared at the screen, dumbfounded. "Really? After all that, the last puzzle, is 'who's my favorite human?' Really?"

But wait... ...was the answer actually as easy as it appeared? Perturabo wanted to put his own name, but what if he was wrong? What if he wasn't her favorite human? He was hardly even "human" in the first place. Maybe she meant a true, normal human? But if this was supposed to be a present for him, why would she blatantly make him answer that her favorite human WASN'T him. What if...

"Hey nerd, the answer's obviously you."

Perturabo jumped to see Leman Russ passing him.

"What the-! Whe-how did you... ...you can't read!" Perturabo stammered. There was no way Leman just waltzed over here...

The Wolf Lord grinned, "Hey, ye nerds aren't the only ones who know how teh learn things. If I taught meself teh read Fenrisian runes, I can teach meself teh read some wolfin' High Gothic!"

"..."

"...that and I may or may not have used some of meh own psychic powers to read yer mind. You know, teh fill in teh blanks."

Considerably less impressed, Perturabo grumbled as he keyed the letters of his name into the cube. With another ding and a flash of green light, previously invisible cracks along the cube's surface began to glow and the cube began to shift one last time. When it finished, a tiny black tray was left in its place, revealing... ...a letter? And a pict?

"What's all this now?" Leman reached towards the tray.

Perturabo snatched it away, "Fuck off Russ! This is MY gift!"

"Oooh, is this from yer GIRLFRIEND!?"

"SHE'S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!!"

"Hey fuck you Leman!" Oh boy, here comes Magnus, "Like you could ever understand the subtlety and genius that went into that puzzle box! Let him enjoy his gift in peace!"

"LeT HiM eNjOy HiS gIfT iN pEaCe!" Leman crooned. "Shut her trap and go back teh yer boyfriend, yeh big red canary."

Magnus puffed up in outrage and looked about ready to turn Leman inside out. When Perturabo noticed Sanguinius inbound, no doubt to dissolve the impending battle, he took his chance to dip out. And by "dip out" I mean grab the tray and its contents, and duck under the table. It would hide him for all of a second, but that would be as long as it would take him to read the letter.

Or it would have, if Leman hadn't, SOMEHOW, been able to reach the tray before him. He snatched up the letter, practically from between Perturabo's fingers, and with utter horror the Lord of Iron watched as his brother brandished the page, cleared his throat, and began to read:

"Perturabo..."

"FUCK YOU LEMAN THAT'S NOT YOURS!!" Magnus howled. Perturabo roared in fury. Both brothers made a mad lunge at the Wolf Lord but he dodged, shit-eating grin on his face as he continued reading.

"...Perturabo,

I'm sorry, but I...."

"....failed you?"

At the mention of the word "failed", Perturabo's onslaught faltered, as did Magnus's. Leman's grin died on his lips as he read the next line, his eyes widening for a moment before they squeezed shut. He then passed the letter back to Perturabo, mumbled a barely audible apology, turned, and without a word walked off.

"That's not what I... ...uh... ...expected?" Magnus muttered. "He looked like a kicked pup. What did that letter..."

Perturabo clutched the paper looking the most feral Magnus had ever seen him.

"...you know what, never mind. That letter's meant for you anyway." He added quickly. "I'll be in the library if you need me, brother."

And just like that, Perturabo was alone. Well, mostly; the Emperor was still there, but he was oddly quiet. Sanguinius was watching him too, but from a discreet distance.

The Lord of Iron backed up into the corner of the room, still riled up but looking a little less crazy. Once he was satisfied that NOBODY ELSE would attempt to confiscate his stuff, he finally began to read what Nehetari wrote for him.

"Perturabo,

I am sorry, but I failed you. You said you wanted your brothers' appreciation for a Sanguinala gift, but of all the ones I interviewed asking for an appreciative memory they have of you, the only ones who gave me a response were your brothers Magnus and Sanguinius. So instead I instigated a situation to make one (please reference the included image). If your brother's expressions are to be believed, then I believe they all enjoyed attacking your snow bunker. I certainly enjoyed helping you defend it.

May you have a somber and pleasant celebration,

The Mehlrose,

Nehetari of the Szarekhan Dynasty.

Heir to the Silent Throne."

...Perturabo couldn't believe it.

He's asked for that as a JOKE. He hadn't actually been serious. When she's approached him, asking what he wanted as a "Sanguinala gift," he'd been in the middle of a complicated programming script and had said that just to get the point across that he didn't want to be bothered.

Slowly, and with a shaking hand, he lifted the pict from the tray and turned it over.

And she was right. This shot must have been taken by one of her tunneling scarabs. Or maybe one of her guard as they were circling the perimeter, hurling snow and distracting Russ. But however it was taken, somehow it was able to get a perfect shot of every primarch, including himself and Nehetari, hurling fucking snow or getting completely dunked on, but every single one of them had varying degrees of stupid fucking grin on their faces. Even Corvus was smiling!

It struck him: had that been her plan all along?

Minutes passed, and finally the Emperor himself spoke up. "My son, you're shaking like a Dark Elder nightclub on a Tuesday."

Perturabo didn't hear him. It took everything he had just to hold the pict in his trembling hands.

Why? Why. Why would she bother. How did she... ...why, why, why WHY? HOW!? When did she even have the TIME to plan this out!? There was no way. And not for him. Why? Why for him? And ALL OF THEM. How could she have known they would ALL come?

"Brother, are you ok?"

Perturabo snapped out of the loop to see the Angel standing beside him with a hand on his shoulder. He hadn't realized just how loudly his two hearts had been thundering, how BADLY his whole body had been shaking, until he felt that steadying touch. Instinctively he tried to regain control over his mind and body, and stowed the pict away in his belt.

Sanguinius asked no questions; he simply nodded.

"I'm going to find her..." Perturabo's voice sounded like sandpaper. He could feel the tears rolling down his neck, but he ignored them. "...I don't care if she FUCKING KILLS me; I am going to find her. She has no right.... ...she had no right to... ...to..."

"...go ahead brother." Sanguinius's smile was warm with understanding.

Salvaging what little dignity he felt he had left, Perturabo straightened up, turned on his heel, and walked shakily out of the throne room. He disappeared into the darkness, leaving his father and his brothers to stare after him in wonder.

(Sorry this is such a long post, but I started writing it and just went to town. I wanted to SHOW, rather than just tell, the kinds of things Nehetari does for the individuals that are important to her)

@gracia-regina @ask-a-scheming-sorcerer @luwupercal

#perturabo #nehetari #sanguinius #magnus the red #the emperor of mankind #leman russ #if the emperor had a text to speech device #tts #tts universe #necrontyr princess #warhammer 40k #wh40k #more oc shenanigans #asks #fuukonomiko

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sugar-petals · 4 years

Text

Treats For You (M)

↳ PAIRING: yuzuru hanyu × reader

↳ PLOT: You tend to a nervous Yuzu the night before a skating competition.

↳ WORD COUNT: 9k | one shot | domestic au, smut

↳ WARNINGS ⚠️ pwp, dom/sub, feeding yuzu treats, pegging, some very wet oral (m giving), cum play, oh lord it gets graphic, fingering, crying, mommy kink, yuzu’s crazy back arch, rough sex, masochism, aftercare, some asthma talk

↳ CARO’S NOTE: inspired by this juicy gif. PS: since i usually post for other fandoms — if you’re unfamiliar with yuzu, visit this intro post.

Just two minutes after you switch off the light, he starts fidgeting.

Repeatedly, all while messing around with his pillow. Soon enough, the blanket you share becomes all disheveled.

You turn your head towards the window to check. All as usual. The blinds are perfectly drawn to shut out the moonlight. Meanwhile, the humidifier infuses the air in gentle ten-minute intervals. Not even the heater is bumbling tonight. Yuzuru keeps on rustling beside you, still. Some of his plushies fall off the bed, one after the other.

Of course he can’t sleep. It’s daunting, no precaution ever helps. The blanket couldn’t be any more crumpled up at this point.

„I’m so nervous,“ he finally sits up another minute later, causing the duvet to lift. A little sigh follows.

Eventually, you turn in the sheets yourself, now facing him. Or rather, what you can vaguely make out as his crouching silhouette.

„Hey,“ you mumble from your left side of the bed. „You watched all of the performances from last month.“ You pat Yuzu’s pillow, hoping he would sink down on it again. „At least twice. Or more.“

God knows for how many hours he stretched in front of the TV on his spongy blue yoga mat, reviewing mountains of footage with a furrowed brow worthy of a restaurant critic.

Every jump and every turn, analyzed over and over. Down to the millimeter. Even the costume got its fair share of scorn. Too wide there, this detail on the collar could be different, that part gets in the way while doing spins.

„It’s all— I don’t know what I’m lacking these days.“

The silhouette doesn’t look like it’s headed to lie down again for the time being. You reach toward your bedstand’s squiggly designer lamp. After fumbling about in the dark, you find the bulky switch at its bottom. On goes the light again. Perhaps a bit too bright, both of you squint hard.

„It’s not like you’re dropping to second place anytime soon.“

Given how you thought you could call it a day before Yuzu started to fidget, maybe your voice is not fully resonant yet. It still carries a little unspoken ‚…right?‘ with it.

As soon as you finish the sentence, you feel how he can pick up on it already. The humidifier dryly comments by puffing out a cloud of lavender steam.

„I don’t really know,“ Yuzu retorts twisting, going into a deep shrug. He is completely sunken now.

„Looks like a simple big hug won’t do, hm.“

Yuzuru ends up nodding. It’s more knowing than admitting. But you don’t like the sense of resignation that comes with it, at all. The problem goes a little deeper than just motivating him with the stats he ironically already knows, times better than you, even.

It’s been going on for the entire day. The last time he made such a grouchy face at his videos was around Christmas. Back then, he couldn’t quite get the jumps right at the start of his routine. But now? His scores are just fine. Not to mention the jumps.

„I didn’t think you were lacking,“ you say. „You just fell once during training.“

And that was because he was fooling around during a break, not in the serious exercises.

„Sorry for bothering you,“ he buries his face in the blanket, beginning to ruffle his hair all over the place. Frustrated Friday-evening-Yuzu always does that, but the energy doesn’t seem to go anywhere this time.

The murmur of his stomach isn’t hard to miss either. You lay your hand on Yuzu’s back.

„Is it because you didn’t eat?“

You wonder what he had for dinner.

Only more guilty stomach growling reaches you as a reply. Figures: He skipped it, and lunch, too. His breakfast was so frugal, you don’t even remember whether he had his milk or not.

Yuzu was already pacing around in the living room at that point. Recalling the tricky parts of the upcoming choreography, treading his feet into the carpet, humming the steady rhythm of his skating program.

„Maybe I’m turning into a snickers diva,“ a muffled little comment emerges from where his chaotic hair sticks out from the duvet. At this point, his face is all buried there.

„I mean. If you allow me to baby you…“

Three minutes later. You rub your eyes, shift from leg to leg. The kitchen floor is as cold as ever so you regret not putting on socks. Meanwhile, there’s no problem raiding the fridge.

You could go to the grocery store five times a day and buy everything Yuzu’s mouth waters over — it’d still be stacked to the top. Snacks, veggies, particular sports drinks in weird blue colors, Japanese pickled plums, gyoza left-overs, salad, various fizzy drinks, mostly lemonade.

It’s like that with any food. Out of sight, out of mind. He won’t bother getting up from the yoga mat if he’s fixated on the TV.

After making two distinct picks and checking whether the fridge door closes properly, then bustling at the sink with a towel, you trot back to the bedroom. Equipped. In the meantime, Yuzu has recollected his plushies from the floor, gently aligning them next to his pillow.

They’re all in their strictly defined place again. You enter just the second after he’s arranged them in the usual half-circle order, centered around his favorite, all-time friendly-eyed Winnie Pooh bear.

„Will you look at that,“ you plant your little kitchen conquests onto the bed, rousing approval noises from Yuzuru who sparkles right at the box and plate you brought along. The grouchy face dissolves, curiosity takes its place. His food reactions will always be the cutest to you.

„Strawberries!“

„From the market. Wasn’t too expensive.“

Freshly doused in the sink, plump and very ripe.

„And rice cakes!“

Truth be told, there couldn’t be a bigger comfort food on his list and you shamelessly exploit the very fact.

„Every competition has a victory meal. Here, fruits first.“

After plopping down on the mattress yourself, you pick up one, then two strawberries. Immediately, Yuzu’s little upturned mouth opens wide as if a tiger baby was yawning.

He chews more eagerly than you thought. If you pass him pretzel sticks while he reviews things on the TV, he barely eats one or two of them.

„I like these,“ he swallows, prying for the next fruit in your hand already. „Sweet!“

„Tastes best with cake,“ you rearrange your sitting position, making sure to park your cold feet next to Yuzuru’s very warm ones. His toes are readily brushing against yours, Yuzuru perhaps not even noticing they do. He’s too fixated on the little cakes. In all things he does— focus incarnate. He can’t help it.

„Yes, I wanna try!“

You rummage in the packaging you brought along, draw forth a first treat. A second one you set aside on the plate. Tiger baby opens his mouth even wider, in goes the first chunk of the rich delicacy. Lord have mercy on his stomach, it’s 11:15 PM. But what’s normal to him, anyways.

Ten more minutes pass. After the strawberry box is two thirds empty and three juicy rice cakes have embarked on their last journey, Yuzu looks a lot more content than before, even if his bedhead arguably makes him look like a mad scientist. Junior professor Yuzuru Hanyu, escapee from his genius lab that exploded in a blaze of smoke.

You take it as your task to brush the outlaw strands back into their place with your fingers after pulling out a wet wipe — those with the way too astringent citrus flavor— from your bedstand, cleaning your hands off the rice. It’s not like your hands aren’t sticky on the regular.

To your satisfaction, Yuzu looks like a swaying cat, nestled into his blanket. With no more stomach growling audible, gladly. You put the plate on the bedside table, lean forward to kiss his belly, and shoot him a fracture of an ambiguous gaze.

„So… Fancy getting even more stuffed?“

„Sure! Is it a surprise?“ Yuzu looks around, presumably searching for more food you brought along.

The pure soul.

„Well, we already had dessert.“

„Oh, right! But, what’s the food, then?“

A little pause follows. Yuzuru couldn’t look any more thrilled. You decide to go with it.

„You’re too innocent,“ you lower down your pants by an inch, thumbs demonstratively hooked into the hem. You raise your eyebrows into a question that he cannot miss. „If you want. You might wanna grab your spray first, though.“

Only the last part fully registers in Yuzuru’s expression that finally goes from curious to… sheepish. He caught on.

Asthma spray at 11:30 PM is a cue he’s gotten familiar with over the last four months. Not in a million years did he think he’d ever have to use it late at night. Whatever decision process is rattling through Yuzu’s brain right now, it’s a fast one, though.

„Ha— okay!“

„Alright, Yuzu.“

„Just once second!“

Food round number two, it is. You kick off your pants and underwear but make sure they don’t land any place where plushies are. Yuzu is already busy at the other end of the room, visibly at work with shaky hands, browsing the cupboard with meds next to the window.

Now that he’s double nervous, you curse your idea, but remind yourself of the last late-evening time Yuzu had his head between your legs. ‚I dunno, I was just concentrated‘ are the words that stuck with you after asking him how on earth he kept his breath for what felt like 45 seconds.

Whatever masochist devil has been driving him, it gave your boyfriend skills you never even knew were possible to have out of absolute nowhere. Not to mention how easily it distracted him from anything else in the world.

Maybe that focus is an effect easy to replicate, you think. Anything that can take his mind off the competition tomorrow is worth trying.

Carefully, you move over to the right side of the bed. Then, recline on Yuzu’s pillow — on his explicit wish two months ago, you meticulously keep that tradition — and feel surrounded by plushies already.

Back then, Yuzu insisted that he shouldn’t be the only one watching out for you when you’re having sex. And that the pillow just smells really good of your hair afterwards. So there you lay, feeling all kinds of horny. Given that Yuzu is already returning to the bed, swiping his hair off his forehead. Looking very refreshed, letting his breath play. Sexy.

And there it goes already. The I dunno, I was just concentrated gaze. You arrange your legs wide enough for Yuzu to settle in the middle, him still sitting upright. His hands are still shaky when they reach around your outer thigh, but his eyes don’t lie to you in the very least.

„Your breath alright?“

A little nod, but he doesn’t heed the question for any longer. There’s gladly nothing that his lung doctor can’t figure out. You count on that, but asking doesn’t hurt.

Meanwhile, Yuzu’s eager eyes are already drawn downwards. Getting bigger and bigger. The surprise he had anticipated in fact now dances over his face, flighty and polite, but nonetheless apparent to you. He’s smiling, and it looks shy in the light of the bedstand lamp.

„I, ah…“

It’s as if he hasn’t seen you naked before, every time. For whatever reason, Yuzu always reverts to virgin mode with his first glance. You admit it’s flattering and amusing alike, but also — leaves you with Hitchcock level suspense.

Yuzuru has proven himself to be an expert in summoning a beginner’s zeal, an almost childlikeness. That keeps you on your toes and promises an intensity that routine and pragmatic energy management could never give you.

After letting his eyes linger a little more, his lips become visibly impatient. He’s already licking them. You’d promised food, and he takes it seriously. That Yuzu’s fingers stroke rather weirdly at your thighs does not escape your attention either. They’re practicing.

„Help yourself, touch.“

The stroking ceases. Yuzu doesn’t hesitate to reach down with his left. How he touches you sends a row of tingles down your legs. His fingertips are amazingly dainty and soft. He explores. Then, soon keeps on caressing about, leans his head forward, all still from his seated position. It doesn’t take too long until he goes straight to getting you off with his right hand.

„This is, wow,“ he mumbles to himself, already immersed in rubbing your clit. Going in circles, taking his time. Alternating between index and thumb.

„Yeah. That’s the spot,“ you shift in the pillow, eventually finding a good position to relax. You exhale, focus on his hand.

„So smooth,“ Yuzu traces his joining left hand up and down your labia.

„Maybe someone wants a taste?“

You were right that he would forget practically anything else. The yoga mat worry brow is blown off his face. Substituted by— appetite.

„Not just maybe, actually.“

Spreading your legs a little more is invitation enough to have Yuzuru lower his head onto your pubic bone, tongue already searching for its favorite place. Your fingers gently interlace in his hair as soon as he starts sucking. Keeping his bangs out of his eyes.

How unafraid to bury his face he is you soon get to witness. You can feel the bridge of his nose glide from lip to lip, and the feathery light brush of his lashes at the base of your inner thighs.

Yuzu’s tongue has always been cheeky, but today, it feels particularly adventurous and slippery. He can’t help but fumble about with his hands simultaneously. Beginner’s zeal, you knew it’d come.

The bucking of your hips comes too naturally to be controlled. Nor does Yuzuru know just how to hold his head back from thrusting. This little shit. Whatever is in those rice cakes, it made him a new level of keen. Soon enough, his tongue has riled you up plenty, and his focused eyes have become entirely monotone. Only preoccupied with one thing and one thing alone.

Just how much he dedicates his attention has to be a thing for the books. You feel like blowing up and moaning like crazy at this point, but manage to at least puff out. He knows you’re way too close. There’s a little smile you feel in the way he eats you.

„So that mouth gets a cum filling,“ you twist your fingers out of Yuzu’s wild hair. It’s all tangled again. The return of the mad professor. He has all the space in the world to bop his head as much as he wants now. One, two, three plushies fall over and tumble around the mattress. He doesn’t notice.

The warmth between your legs has been growing ceaselessly. Now, ready to brim. With Yuzu’s agile tongue slipping back and forth over your clit in erratic intervals, you feel like losing your mind with every lick. The way his lips excite you gives off the lewdest sucking noises. All wet, and resolute like a chess player not to drop you off that high.

He keeps his laps consistent, leans in more, and eventually— tips you off the edge with a fast sequence of letting his tongue dip under the hood of your clit. And letting it stay there, all until your legs start twitching. You groan out.

Yuzu gets a big. Fat. Cum filling indeed.

Your breath goes short, you grab his shoulders. Growling, cursing. Trying to ride the wave, but the contractions catch you harder than you thought. You can practically feel how much you ooze out and ruin his face.

Bratty he is, Yuzuru forms his mouth all kissy and pecks your clit through every throb. Until the shockwaves subside, letting your shaking thighs off the hook eventually.

Too fucking intense. The surge of pleasure keeps on making your mind hazy long after your orgasm is over. To add fuel to the fire, Yuzuru rubs his belly, as if he just had two happy meals for the price of one.

Pulling off, his face is all bright and slobbery in its remaining smile. His lips are cum-glazed, and more than just plain sweat trickles down his nose. Nothing better than a facial right in front of twenty plushies. Who knew Winnie the Pooh himself would ever be eye witness to Yuzu’s sporty head game.

Friendly bear he is, it doesn’t seem to bother him. From unsuspecting comfort teddy on Yuzu’s lap 23/7 to live-action porn audience. First row, no popcorn though, but HD sound quality and claims to free spit. The guy is living his absolute best life, isn’t he.

„You… growling. That was pretty hot,“ Yuzuru says. His jaw is hanging all loose and most of his speech is slurred. Yuzu looks all satiated. In your mind, you pat yourself on your own shoulder. Boyfriend corruption: almost complete.

„Like being spoiled? I want you to clean that up.“

Yuzu squeaks out giddy in reply. A moment later, he goes back to lean down again, swallowing and licking up cum from your drenched, swollen lips. His slurping noises are indulgent, wet, and desperately slutty. He succeeds in cleaning you up, but keeps on messing up himself even more. Yuzuru delights in rubbing his whole face into your dripping pussy until his eyebrows are sticky, his lids and cheeks are damp, and you feel capable to get up from the pillow.

Despite not being underneath the blanket, you notice that your feet aren’t that cold anymore.

He sits on the bed like a mermaid, huddled close to you. Normally, he would visibly sort his thoughts like that, but now, all he does is blink and nuzzle up against you with his forehead.

Settling, Yuzuru doesn’t seem to know where to put his hands and you take it as a chance to pepper them with kisses. The back of the hand, the palms, the wrists. It calms you, and it calms him.

You feel entirely drenched, refreshed and relaxed at once. How Yuzuru cuddles against your legs makes your heart warm, and the moment is blissful.

One lavender steam cloud later, you feel like moving again. Maybe there are two restless people in this relationship. The thought of it is funny.

„We could go on a little more,“ eventually, you pat his head. „With something different if you want.“

„Do you still have energy?“ he asks. His breath is somewhat slowing already. It feels hot against your leg.

„More than before, actually.“

He sits up. Looks like you surprised him again. Little does Yuzu know how much he shakes you up.

„Really?“

You nod, twirling at his bangs now.

„I have an idea. So… you remember what’s been waiting in a box for a month.“

You can tell he knows exactly what you mean. No doubt he didn’t take very long to recall it, either. That tells you something.

„Can we use it?“

That answer was fast.

„It’s what I’ve been thinking.“

„We’ve been putting this off but I’m still curious.“

And your guess was correct. It’s definitely been on his mind.

„Yeah, you’re right.“

Promptly, you direct your eyes to the bedroom cupboard to your far left. The one containing various kinds of skating blades in slender packagings, tracksuits in dark colors, fan presents, and mail orders. Among them, a larger jet black box—

That neither Yuzu nor you dared to open given it was a product of a reckless button click at 2 PM.

Admittedly, after Yuzu passed you a way too expensive bottle of sake that he got for his birthday. Since he’s allergic to alcohol, somebody thought she could give it a sure try instead. Pouring $200 into the sink would have been the better option.

Said black box soon sits between the two of you, wide open to reveal the truth of what sake can do.

„Oh man. What have I done.“

That button click comes back to bite you big time.

„This looks, I think, realistic—?“

At least on the surface.

Of course, you drunk fool had to order the ‚sculpted, real-life imitation‘ version. You couldn’t be any more embarrassed. No more alcohol in this flat, that’s for sure. What else to do but take it in stride now that the box is already open, though.

„I uh, think so. At least with the veins.“

„It’s… it is really big.“

At least three times Yuzu’s flaccid size if you don’t hallucinate right now.

„I don’t know how I’m not gonna tear you apart. How many inches are these, 12? My drunk self is too ambitious.“

Maybe you shouldn’t have used that word and said ‚reckless‘ instead. Because ambition surely and habitually triggers a prancing and posing Shia LaBeouf shouting ‚do it!‘ in Yuzuru’s athlete brain. You can see it in his eyes and already regret thinking out loud.

„We can still try.“

„If that’s a good idea or not we will probably see,“ you begin to inspect the contents one by one up close. „I think I bought a weapon.“

„Now I know why they call guns a strap,“ Yuzuru equally peaks over the edge of the box, looking like his future just flashed before his eyes.

„Next time I pass the sake to your coaches or something,“ you end up pulling out the red harness kit that glaringly lays on top of the contents. All looking very adjustable indeed. „That’s what my midnight fantasy seems to look like.“

„Uh—huh!“

Yuzu snakes his hand into the box himself now. Pulling out a transparent, orange-pink 13 oz bottle with a bubbly-looking fluid inside. Gaudy stuff, but a generous amount.

„Mister Lube. My new best friend,“ he says, laying the bottle aside and then pulling off his black PJ shirt. Although he strips quite leisurely, you can tell that Yuzuru is a little tense in his torso. That you will attend to in a minute, you think. But beforehand, you let your eyes roam for something else.

„They probably have something to clean it with in there as well. Let me see.“

You find that even if you might have ordered all this pretty tipsy, the toy set does have its quality. Just before you want to ask Yuzuru to warm up, he visibly ponders, then cleans his pajamas off the bed to make space for a little area.

„If you don’t mind, I stretch my muscles,“ Yuzuru puts aside a couple of plushies, too, but keeps Pooh close, assuming his typical pre-training stances.

He knows himself. That’s good.

„Tell me if you need help for the thigh stretching.“

In the meantime, you ease into the red kit and arrange the box contents on the bed. There seem to be fifteen things going on at once. If this would be public in the slightest, you believe the two of you must look like a bunch of eccentrics to anybody who’d watch you.

Ten minutes later, Yuzuru might just be in Olympic shape, has downed almost half a liter of spring water in one go. You know that he could probably deliver a quintuple jump on the spot if he wanted. The strap-on is all assembled, clean, and you have stored away the practically empty box of sake sinnery.

„I’ll skate cross-eyed and cross-legged tomorrow,“ Yuzu stares right at your crotch, face buried in his palms. Only his eyes peek through the fingers. „Godspeed to my ass.“

You sure as hell won’t disagree. This strap is a threat.

„I don’t know why I had to order supersize out of all possible things. You need a prayer circle after this. Where’s Mister Lube?“

„Here, over here,“ Yuzuru passes over the bottle, shaking it.

„I’ll relax you as good as I can, okay. Before I get arrested for possession of weapons without a license.“

And annihilating Yuzu’s insides with that XXL dick that he sure as hell doesn’t just want halfway in. Lord have mercy. You can only shake your head at yourself for buying this.

„Honestly though. Does it really fit in?“

Yuzu leans his face toward your hip, now on all fours, taking the sight in. He still can’t believe his eyes.

„We’ll see. Let your body decide, not your pride okay,“ you poke the tip of the strap-on into his left cheek. Hoping that it takes away some of the tension, at least. „And you can still tap the mattress.“

„Okay. Tap the mattress.“

He nods quite avidly. Same protocol as always. No spoken safewords, only something that Yuzu can make use of with his reflexes. Speech? Nothing you can both count on as soon as horniness kicks in.

You tried that for the first two weeks and quickly settled for tapping instead. Especially because Yuzu likes to have fingers in his mouth every so often.

„I mean. You just did like five splits, didn’t you. Warm-ups always help. If your ankle doesn’t fall off?“

That mini workout was more than just impressive, in fact. And still, you eye Yuzuru’s notoriously injured foot. The slim little fella has a long history of recovery behind him.

„The ankle is decent, the usual stuff.“

„I wish we had a smaller toy to start out with,“ you scratch your head. That might be the one thing that’s been missing from the box. „We still have Mister Lube, anyway. Watch this,“ you pick up the orange bottle, flipping the cap open. „It’s actually scented! Worth ruining the bed if you ask me.“

On goes the fluid, you rub it all across the length of the dildo. Must be cherry flavor or something. Yuzuru sure makes big eyes.

„I knew I could count on Mister Lube.“

„Yeah, we use lots. And I’ll be very gentle.“

The cherry scent is gladly much less tacky than the bottle itself, not too artificial-smelling either. You squeeze out a second load and distribute it over the strap-on just to be sure. Yuzuru’s breath goes faster.

„Can I ask something beforehand?“

„Go right ahead.“

„I wanna suck first if you…“

Who knew. The lube probably made his mouth water.

Being honest, you think that it might be a good idea to get this going. Better than blowing his pretty back out right away and making a mistake, even if he is much less tense now.

„I don’t mind, Yuzu. You already have some chapstick on, right? Here.“

You level your hips to line up with his mouth more easily. You can tell that Yuzuru, after some heavy blinking, eventually braces himself. There’s nothing more telling than his tunnel vision plastered all over his face. His eyes, lids heavy, are hypnotized and seem darker. Yuzu’s bedroom gaze is the best in the world.

„Okay, I’ll start.“

A first kittenish lick. A second. A third. Then, brave lips — enclosing the tip. He audibly nips and swallows.

A few more licks, and repeat. Mister Lube seems to taste pretty good. You bless the shady company that manufactures the black box of sin for once.

You let Yuzu explore, pump his hand around the shaft, lick from all directions he fancies. Compared to his wrist, the dildo doesn’t really fall short in diameter, but with Yuzu’s face up close you are relieved it’s not a complete David versus Goliath match.

Soon enough, he musters the courage to open his mouth a little wider, cramming a bit more in than just the tip. You can’t deny you’re getting turned on again with the way he slurps and hums around your dick. With the minutes, he becomes bolder, moving his head.

Even if the lube gathers at his chin and seeps down to the bed, he keeps on sucking, now with a first pearl of sweat lingering on his forehead already. You’d never think it’d make him break a sweat. To be fair, he just did fifty jumping jacks in the warm-up.

„Want me to move?“

Two nods. You glide in, let your hips do the work how they want to. You don’t trust your online shopping choices, but your tempo, at least. Yuzuru is making all choked up noises trying to gobble up all the girth he gets, his fingers entangled in your harness. It keeps him in a steady place.

You can work from that, angle a few superficial thrusts into his mouth to get the saliva flowing. The blotch on your bed is already pretty nasty. The slow pace is apt enough to fill Yuzu’s mouth with spit bubbles that begin to foam out bit by bit.

After two more minutes of light back and forth, Yuzuru pulls off to speak.

„Please do it stronger. I don’t mind being hoarse.“

Not a second later, all he does is slurp up a very dripping shaft again. With difficulty jamming it in past the first few inches, but determined, anyway. You didn’t expect anything else.

Yuzu’s lips and eyes are all glossy by now. The portion of lube-infused spit has accumulated at his jaw already, soon to travel down to his throat.

Stronger, he says. Why not.

„Okay, get ready.“

„M—hm!“

An abrasive jab follows a shallow one. If it wasn’t for the lube, your dick would scrape right down his upper throat. But this way, the first dip goes in with sufficient slip and slide, not leaving Yuzu with too much dick in his neck for long. All your strap-on does is bounce right back.

What you do hear is Yuzu’s gag reflex… claiming its rights. Still understated, but nevertheless there. After three more thrusts, you decide to stay about halfway balls deep, watching Yuzuru squirm, even try to shove in about an inch more by pressing his head forward. His breath is clean and deep through his nose. You put a checkmark on the my-boyfriend-has-asthma list in your mind.

„You look good with a dick in your mouth.“

What is supposedly a ‚thanks‘ ends up as gargling and choking. Yuzuru starts getting wet eyes at this point. Even a little bow of his head is something that doesn’t slip past your attention. Mannered guy, isn’t he.

That praise makes him do the horniest noises is also something that you make a memo of. Along with seeing how it’s rendering him all aroused. You’ve seen those neck veins and red chin spots come out plenty of times to know.

A couple more thrusts are not a bad option, you decide. Although it seems that Yuzuru had the idea to hollow out his cheeks that very moment. The vacuum first makes your cock plunge in a little too fast than intended, then naturally pulls Yuzu’s head forward once you move your hips back again.

It’s why the second thrust catches him off guard, flattening his lips and making your dick slide into his throat with air going in. Yuzu ends up choking hopelessly. It doesn’t look like he’s retreating his head in the very least, however.

Instead, you feel his hands grab at your either hip to secure himself in place. A glance from above, slightly angled sideward, shows you just how hard and throbbing Yuzu’s own dick is, tipping against his stomach.

Once again, you make an impressed-my-dear face that he doesn’t overlook. His cheeks go hollow again and he keeps up the indulgent speed. Increasingly getting rougher and more pain-craving. Messier. Desperate.

Yuzu opens his mouth wider not to have his teeth get in the way. It’s serious business now. His throat makes the most disgusting, grunting noises. Oh. Shit. Yuzu’s greed and sloppy lips make your body burn up. Soreness is the very least he’s headed for.

„Wow, Yuzu. Wow.“

It’s not something you didn’t know already. This man is without a singular doubt a lunatic. You whisper more praises to him, your hands grabbing hold of his head to sustain the movement rhythmically.

Yuzu’s gag reflex has proven to only rebel every other thrust so you can pound away, at that time already giving up even the mattress that must be sopping wet to its core with Yuzuru drooling all over it. Too late for a towel altogether but fuck it.

Yuzu takes the choking well. He’s leaking spit all over, surrenders to your hands. Even if he doesn’t manage to deepthroat the entire length of the dick, he manages an awful lot of inches. By now, he’s gotten the hang of not letting too much air in. All while relaxing his muscles.

Beautiful hums, chokes, little whines. Too bad your phone isn’t close by. Recording this has to be your very next bucket list entry. You’re glad he asked about this.

You go on thrusting for a few more times until you feel your hips going tired. Once his nose starts getting all runny, you naturally slow down even more. Eventually, you help Yuzuru pull his head off. His lips are all puffy.

„B—woah,“ it’s all he can moan and splurt out, and you help him wipe the glob of saliva and snot from his chin with your sleeve.

Your pajama shirt might be ruined, but not as much as Yuzu’s tonsils. Who knows just how many times you were deep and fast enough to make them throb from all that friction. Seven, eight times? His food for tomorrow can be a light soup at best. Not even you were as sore after riding and sucking every last drop out of his dick last Monday.

You’re glad he has the rice cakes going through his system right now. Poor onlooker Winnie the Pooh is probably traumatized by now. There’s only so much crazy dicksucking a bear can handle watching. And still, he gazes at the two of you— in good spirits as ever, cheeks big and bright. In a way, he looks like Yuzu in this very moment.

„How you like it?,“ you softly caress his pinkish lips. „I need to know how many stars to leave on the website.“

It takes a few moments until he can form words again. His speech is fast. He’s still staring at the dildo.

„It was in so deep and, and on my tongue. The dick veins, I could feel them. They were like, like, it was massaging my lips. And I almost thought I could swallow it.“

You raise your brows. Lord knows how deep your cock was inside his brain, but he still picks these things up.

„Attention to detail. Nice.“

Maybe 4.5 stars are a fair deal. At least for throat fucking. The rest — remains to be seen.

„Did I do well?“

His eyes widen. The question is genuine. It’s not something you’d think he would ask. Whenever he trained, he would always rely on his own judgment.

„Ask yourself first, you were the one feeling it.“

That’s not the answer he expected, and he ends up getting red cheeks.

„I liked it,“ he stammers. „Was really hot.“

„It’s what I saw, too. Good job, babe.“

He’s blushing even more now.

„Ah— I think I tried my best.“

You smile and cup his slobbery face. So you’ve taken his throat virginity in the most spit-heavy way possible. He looks cuter than ever.

„Listen. You’re a champ. If I could, I would cum deep inside of you.“

„I think, that would be romantic,“ his wet lips break into an upbeat smile. Yuzu’s eyes get all crinkly.

„You bet.“

A big doting kiss for Yuzu’s forehead is the only thing your brain can conjure up at this point, so you briefly lean down to do it. Maybe Shia LaBeouf is not just exclusively at home in Yuzu’s imagination.

What you have to admit is that Yuzu’s overflowing athlete’s spirit has easily taken over your hips. You didn’t think you could move properly for that long. Maybe you still have some energy reservoirs left.

„And, and now?“

„I can stuff you with more dick. Up to you. Mister Lube didn’t run out yet. And if Pooh still likes watching.“

By instinct, Yuzuru’s hands snake behind his back to grip his ass, stroking what he knows is your delightful next target. You can tell by his eyes that there are a thousand scenarios going through his head.

„Pooh likes this… very much. He’s never seen something like that before. I think he is curious.“

It doesn’t take a Sherlock’s mind for you to know that he means— himself.

„I mean. I was surprised. If that monster fits into your little throat,“ you add, „anything is possible.“

That’s the final straw.

„I’ll do it,“ he says, moments later on all fours, face lowered and then rested sidewards on the bed, spreading his ass cheeks. Decision making when it comes to strap stuff is Yuzu’s forte, you jot that down in your invisible sex life journal. Not one bit of hesitation. By the looks of it, a very twitching entrance is waiting for you.

Testing period is over.

„Alright. I got something to drive home.“

Now that you think of it. If his ass is already only half as naughty as his mouth, you’ll need the help of a higher power.

„Shit. I think, it relaxes.“

At the expense of your mattress and blanket getting even more greasy with lube, you ease in the tip after massaging it into his sphincter. Yuzu’s ass still has to deal with that new sensation given how his leg muscles are going all bonkers. But indeed he’s grown receptive.

„Comfy like that?“

„B—big…“

„Attention, just a little tweak before I go on. Here.“

You softly press down on his spine with your palm entirely flat, and his back obliges immediately. His arch is leaving you breathless.

Yuzu’s head and chest are snug and soft against the bed while his ass is far, far up. He smiles seeing you venerate his back, he didn’t miss your reaction in the least. No surprise a third of your cock gets sucked into his ass just moments later. It caught you off guard.

Judging by Yuzu’s little yelp and his eyes rolling back, the way you went right into him has found pleasure. The bedposts creak a little because Yuzuru’s legs are shivering. As is his voice.

„I love it, I lo-, please, my, my ass!“

„Can I move?“

„Yes, please!“

The arch did the trick. You love your boyfriend. What follows is a slowly plunging series of rewards, ten, eleven times, pulling at his gripping asshole until it surrenders into going loose. Yuzuru has almost accommodated a third of the length you’re engraving into his ass. You’ll definitely keep using that brand of lube.

„Here, babe. I got a present for your prostate.“

Yuzu is making your favorite lawless face when you hit the spot, controlling the base of the dildo with two your fingers going around it like a cock ring. He looks as if someone just handed him a trophy too big to carry. From his perineum, a thread of lube comes dripping down with a squelching noise. The poor sheets. It’s another virginity taken.

In the meantime, Yuzu grabs hold of the duvet with unsteady hands. His entire torso is nothing but a shaky mess. So erratic. And sweaty. And docile. And beautiful. You want to award him plenty, your little present from above, the jittery boy underneath you.

Pounding away and making him grit his teeth is worth heading for a mean cramp, you don’t care. Watching how your cock is plowing in and out of him at jerky angles with the absolute lewdest, bubbling noises recompensates for anything.

Yuzu’s rolling eyes have become spaced out and teary, making him look like a crying saint about to enter the golden gates of heaven. Who knew angels had black hair.

With every stroke, his ass becomes every bit accepting to the point of almost glaring open to let you thrust in. Thank God. You compliment yourself on not falling short of the arguably lofty promise to relax him. Moaning Yuzu’s little ass is swallowing it all.

By the time, his rectum is going hollow and sticky, welcoming every move of yours by giving you ample right of passage. During some thrusts, you don’t even see his sphincter hold on to the dildo at all. His ass is almost as dilated as his loose mouth itself. Your thrusts are working on their own again at this point. What instinct is propelling you, who knows.

You love the sight and the happy squeals. You tease him with more speed. Not without effect, your hips lunge and aim deep all the more. You penetrate him far enough to start an excavation for ancient relics next Monday. With the tempo increasing, so does the chesty volume in his voice.

„It’s,“ he cries out, „in my belly! Ah! Ah, shit! Shit...“

You see Yuzu let go of the duvet with his left hand. It promptly darts way down to his abdomen where his fingers grope around.

„I can feel it,“ he whines, „It’s rubbing there, it’s a big bump!“

You sure won’t deprive your own hand from that sensation and reach right down, too. Which means leaning forward— and stuffing your strap even harder into his guts. Yuzu gasps out loud. Both your hands meet fondling about, cupping the sensitive area in search for the imprint of the dildo.

What Yuzu says is not understated. His slender little belly is all bulged out in the bottom quarter. Since he’s so thin, it’s almost scary how much your cock just dents him out and twists around.

„Jesus, Yuzu,“ you let your hand roam next to his, even lightly squeezing the area. It’s what really riles him.

What you thought was the maximum for him to take turns out to be nothing but a mere start. Yuzu is so obsessed to feel the bulge more that he starts bucking his ass onto your cock with the most unbridled voice cracks.

You can’t lie. His moans make your jaw drop. His usually so controlled body on the ice is now wrecking and writhing itself to get more dick.

A thin line of sweat goes on a pilgrimage down his spine already. He impales himself more, gyrates his hips more, whines out more. You wonder how he keeps it together and doesn’t spritz all his cum over the bed and the floor tiles.

It’s the sheer force of will. Always hungry for the next level. You can’t help but admire how enduring he is. And that’s just the first time.

Yuzu’s feet have become agitated on the sheets, responding to every thrust by dangling and swishing around. Yesterday, his right ankle was all stiff and even a bit swollen. Now, it’s moving all over the place. Looks like doggy style is putting all the tension off the ligaments. It’s something else you take deliberate note of.

After five more thrusts and hearing his whimpers getting all drawn-out, eventually, you retreat for a break, letting your cock rest on his left ass cheek. Yuzu inhales, gathering himself. He looks at you with big, glazed bambi eyes. Maybe even a bit incredulous.

„Am I, am I gaping?“

You don’t have to check twice to know.

„All lose. If you knew how far I can see inside of you. Hole new world.“

„Y/N!“

He can’t hold eye contact now.

„Naughty, huh. But I like what I see.“

Goddamn great ass. You firmly smack Yuzu squarely across his right butt cheek. He twitches, clenches, bites his lips more. They tremble.

„Ah! You tease!“

„Want me to put it in again?“

Wild nodding. Looks like Yuzu’s usual voracity on the ice does an easy, albeit not entirely seamless transfer to bed, too. He still ogles what is about to stretch him out again with due respect. He still can’t fathom something this massive was inside of him, you can tell.

Once you start moving again, you notice his feet and thigh muscles violently jerking. His prostate has gotten all sensitive. Probably all spongy and large by now.

You decide to angle yourself differently and take a deep breath. Impossible to draw this out any longer. From the vicinity of Yuzu’s pillow, you grasp the Winnie Pooh plush toy and maneuver it into his awaiting embrace. He holds it tight in an instant.

With impatient hands, you fumble around the bed for the lube bottle until you find it next to his right foot. Two, three, four generous squeezes onto his asshole, not very accurate at all. Several fine, oily traces end up trickling down his inner thighs. You don’t even bother closing the bottle properly anymore. Too much adrenaline.

„Grab those sheets and Pooh, Yuzu, grab hard.“

„I got it!“

„Time I fuck you up. If you’re ready?“

„Yes, make me cum, make me cum! Please break my ass,“ he’s whimpering. So badly. „I want it! I want it all inside.“

Mister Lube has a last job to handle.

Yuzu has crammed three fingers into his mouth once you get a hold of his hair and deliver the last hard movements. He takes the blows all babbling and sucking himself off. How his ass is not completely falling apart by now is a miracle of nature. Or maybe, just the blessing of his daily training.

The room is heavy with the scent of sweat and cherries. He’s loosened his core so much that sliding in is not a question of you avoiding a cramp anymore, but technique. You feel focused to zero in and not miss the sweet, tender spot. It makes him mewl the first time you push your dick tip right into it.

The second time, his eyes get big and fluttering.

„Please. Please, hurt me,“ he salivates, then eventually, grabs his plush harder. „Hurt me bad. I’m really begging you.“

Fast to oblige, you claw your hands around his waist and pull his body backwards. The ten nails digging into him are only the last needed set-up. The last jab comes in crisp, landing a severe and punctuated shock. Yuzu’s ass smacks up hard at your loins. The pain quickly snakes right up his spine and leaves his face contorted.

„Oh fuck…!“

Small, shaking Yuzu cums like fifty fireworks going off at once. Not even releasing his screams into the duvet really helps to mute out the heaviness of the first waves. You keep your cock right in place and let it buffer into his prostate at will.

Yuzu’s legs kick and tangle under you like pasta in boiling water. He cries and groans and curses, and cries out even more. You can see his entire back muscles at work now, going like clockwork. His moans each sound so ecstatic, it registers as a different language to you. He spirals far into his orgasm, sobbing, and it looks beautiful.

„Amazing, Yuzu.“

His semen lands all over his sternum and the sheets, shooting out in several bursts, one more pumping than the other. It’s almost as if all that strawberry juice converted nicely into a blotchy, white fluid.

His dick is still tensing up completely sensitive. Releasing cum, up until his legs stop going all over the place. Yuzu doesn’t let the sperm cool for twenty seconds that he already reaches down to pick it up, jerking his cock a last dozen times, only to bring to his mouth what his fingers collected. He sucks up all of it.

„Delicious, baby?“

„M—hm!“

„So nicely milked.“

His relished expression. You imagine that this must have been how the gods first tasted nectar.

While he licks away, Yuzu goes limp head to toe with you carefully pulling out your dick. Inch by inch. Not pulling. Only gliding.

Once you’ve removed the tip, he collapses into a sniffing, giggly puddle of serotonin. Crying, even when you lend him both your hands to lay his face into.

He’s so gorgeous.

Breathing hard, sweaty, drooling and messed up. His body is so steamy and loose, splayed out all the way before you. His entrance has turned all pink so beautifully. Hot. As. Fuck.

Most psychologists would envy you for being able to gaze this far into Yuzuru Hanyu’s innermost clenching being. How his ass is going to close until tomorrow’s competition, you don’t know.

Time to pray he won’t digest these savory cakes too fast. Then again, he didn’t eat properly at all. His body is probably soaking up all the fruit and rice in their entirety.

You pat his lower back gently, making sure to lay him down into a sleeping position already. Pooh is right by his side. Yuzu’s legs are still so dangly.

He’s really let go completely. You’ve not fucked his ass, but his soul.

You want to thank him for trusting you so much. Beside the shady black box manufacturer.

The bed is a glorious mess.

Removing the strap-on harness makes you feel just how loosened your own limbs have become, too. Come to think of it, this might be your new heavy-duty workout. None of your friends know you do this kind of cardio involving the best ass in the whole city as your personal trainer.

Yuzu’s butt has turned you into a drenched, wobbly homo sapiens that will probably look in the mirror by tomorrow and proclaim herself a bodybuilder from those sheer muscle burn gains.

When the two of you show up at the rink tomorrow, you both need hunky guys carrying you in by the armpits or something.

And the whole world will wonder how Yuzu’s wonky ankle magically recovered overnight but he can’t sit.

Changing the duvet at quarter past twelve with an unmovable Yuzu on top of it seems like a thing of the impossible. It’s soiled, it’s sweaty, it would probably make it to the first page if a reporter ever got hold of it.

But you take it pragmatically and opt for sleeping on Yuzu’s cleaner side of the bed intertwined. It’s surprisingly dry there. Big laundry day tomorrow, anyway.

The only thing you manage to do is reach for the window to open and to grab a glass of water from the bedstand to share. He’s chugging the remaining half down in one go. His hands? Oh wonder.

More than steady.

He calmed completely. After he puts down the glass, you scoot closer to him.

„Your foot — better?“

„Oh? I didn’t even think about it.“

He wriggles his left leg back and forth underneath the blanket, then concludes with a surprised face:

„It’s turning pretty well? I think you hit a nerve. Maybe you should split me in half more often.“

He shrugs. Yuzu’s serious face while saying that so dryly makes you laugh.

„Looks like it,“ you draw out the open lube bottle from beside you, finally closing the lid. „Do you… need a towel?“

„I just need you. I have to be disgusting for once.“

„I’ll scrape that all off tomorrow before we leave. Hot shower, five tons of shampoo. I’ll be breaking out the stuff you clean your skates with if I have to.“

That makes Yuzu chuckle. In fact, he beams a little.

„Sounds like something to look forward to.“

„I hope you can walk, anyway. Is it painful?“

Your biggest sorrow at this point. Taking his mind off was easy, but now he’s got boneless legs. Your conscience nags you for dicking him down out of all possible things.

„You have your weapon license now. I gotta admit… the last one…“

…was ass destruction 3.0, you complete his sentence in your mind. It’s nothing a normal human being could have stomached. „I’ll manage, though. I still feel my legs.“

„God, how does he do it.“

A smug „He’s Yuzuru Hanyu, that’s how, aw yeah!“ is what you imagine God’s answer to sound like. But instead, all you get is a little smile. Very well, from the little God in your bed.

„Pooh did this. When I squeezed him, I knew I could take it.“

He reaches to the middle of the bed. Five consecutive head pats for the bear plushie and Yuzu looks content already.

„Winning medals with just one working ankle is the same as doing it with a demolished ass to you, huh.“

„It’s not demolished, it’s improved and overhauled,“ he smiles. „Never felt any better. It was really good how you did this.“

It’s his strangest sport philosophy yet. But if you know one thing, it’s that Yuzu’s bizarre body hacks have gotten him the podium every time. You can already see him asking for another strap round before your mind’s eye. Before the next competition, at least.

„You honestly blow my mind.“

„And your dick, tomorrow night,“ goes Yuzu’s cheeky winner grin. There it is. Insatiable how you love it. You already feel the need to google ‚hip thrust strengthening exercises’.

Maybe, if science advances to that point one day, you honestly clone yourself so double your capacity. And so that you can spitroast him. Maybe you order another dildo from the website and pin it to the wall, anyways.

„Must be Mister Lube who did all of this.“

„I want to buy more of it tomorrow. Any other groceries we need, anyway? I’ll be cleaning the floor, too. I hope I’m not too worn-out after skating.“

„We’ll do one thing after the other, alright. There are still rice cakes left for breakfast, those will get you through the day.“

You’ve seen how much of an energy burst the cakes gave him.

„I really like those,“ he mumbles, then nuzzles into the pillow, sucking in your hair’s scent. Oh, it’s the moment you waited for. „Snickers diva… happy.“

A very cheery, puffy face slowly comes to rest beside you now, hair going in all directions. Infallible and ever-returning: Professor Yuzu’s explosive hairdo. Pooh is all clingy at his chest. A little worn from all the squeezing, but still with an amicable chuckle. You smile from ear to ear. It’s the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.

You kiss Yuzuru’s little nose and lips until he’s making sleepy sounds. Either this is a late-night mirage created by your very moan-tested ears, or he is actually purring. You make sure the Pooh plush resting at his chest faces him correctly, then clear away the remaining strawberries, shut the window, arrange the blanket, put on your pajamas properly.

The humidifier whirrs in the background while tiger baby does one last big yawn before drifting off. In a matter of two minutes, maybe even less than that.

Just as you reach toward the bedstand to switch off the light, Yuzu’s hand curls into your shirt from behind. You turn, he is all dozed off. Not one leg fidgeting. However, talking in his sleep with his hand nestled into your PJs.

„Big hug please, Pooh mama.“

#figure skating #yuzuru hanyu #yuzuru hanyu smut #yuzuru hanyu x reader #yuzuru hanyu fanfic #figure skating fanfic #fs #figure skating smut #sub!yuzuru #dom!reader #treats for you #original content

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

Text

Chizuru Town (End) Heaven and Hell

Caesar and the MC are let off the chain.

------

The boys all erupted into cheers as you closed your eyes. The man in the striped suit hugged you and then kissed you on the mouth. You didn’t struggle or open your eyes so they wouldn’t see what you were up to.

Your Soul Skill relies on connecting to the energy of the ground. Already, millions of filaments of your spiritual energy were penetrating the ground like a root system, forming a solid foundation for what was to come. Once your Soul Skill was firmly rooted, you could kill them all in an instant. So you didn’t care about what was happening around you right now. That is, you didn’t care until the ground began to give you feedback that something terrible was happening to Lu Mingfei.

You open your eyes ever so slightly.

Lu Mingfei was backed against the wall of the Internet Cafe. He was holding the empty gun as if he could still shoot but no one was buying it. Another group of boys were firing into the hole left by the Black Viper. If Caesar was still alive in there, he couldn’t come back out without getting shot.

And there was still no sign of Chu Zihang.

You’d waited to act long enough. At last, you could see the sparkle in the eyes of the elk.

You raise your golden eyes in the sky and scream. Your hair lifts from where it hung in a wet curtain to straight up, stiff in the air. The ground sparks with electricity and cracks form in the pavement with light shining up through the cracks.

The boys stop harassing Mingfei and stop firing into the hole in the building and stare in terror as the ground splinters beneath them. In the next second, the energy below the pavement erupts into blazing fire. Their clothes catch fire and so does their hair. They run away from the cracks in the ground, to roll on the wet pavement, steam rising from them. Their lungs have been seared by the heat and they’re choking and gasping after running such a short distance. Their hair is scalded off and they have no eyebrows.

They were the lucky ones. The unlucky sank their feet into pure lava, the heat turning all the moisture in their body to steam instantly. They could only give voice to their blinding pain for a few seconds before they passed out from lack of blood and oxygen and expired.

The air is filled with screams and moans and burning flesh. The street has turned to Hell.

Eruption is a Soul Skill of the King of Earth and Mountains. It summons the magma in an area, so it can usually take some time to charge if the magma is very deep, but here in Japan, the ground is floating on rivers of it and it is nothing for you to call a thin injection up and to squeeze through the plates beneath the earth.

The cars tip down into the widening cracks and their tires pop and shoot up flames in the escaping air, melting the fine paint and metal. The van you’re sitting on is an island in the middle of the destruction.

A phone rings. The man in the stripe suit is pale with shock. He silently read the text message and put down the phone. He stood up, staring down at you with a pale face full of fear. “This scare tactic is no big deal! Japan is our territory! And Chizuru Town is also our territory! You’re not going to win! Put your guns up and kill them!”

Your jaw drops. You had spared this last man because you figured Caesar would want to end him personally and now he - this last rat - was rallying his troops against you? Who was that text message from? How was this Lord so terrible that he could inspire some lowlife to face your power and defy you immediately after you’d just instantly obliterated so many of his gang members?

You smile and laugh! “Hahahaha! I really have to kill all of you! I really do! I can’t believe it!”

The wall Lu Mingfei was pressed against suddenly reverberated with a majestic roar and cracked open with a loud bang. The four-meter- high backhoe rushed out of the fire in the building, the huge gravel shovel dragging Lu Mingei into the air. Those remaining fired at the shovel with a dense shower of bullets.

Caesar sat in the cockpit of the shovel, his right hand holding the steering wheel and his left hand holding the body of the girl. Her blood was dripping down so much it formed a crimson strip on the metal under the cockpit.

You raise your chin to him. The redness of that blood was like a flag, marking you and Caesar as comrades in sorrow.

Caesar turned the backhoe to face away from the attackers. “Lu Mingfei! Get in!”

Lu Mingfei used all his strength to jump towards the shovel and Caesar pulled him in by his arm.

Caesar turned the back hoe back around. He handed the body of Makoto to Lu Mingfei who immediately looked like he was about to cry. Caesar’s face was as smooth and calm as granite as he looked at you and your river of destruction.

“Boss, are you okay?” Mingfei whimpered.

“I’m fine… I’m fine.”

The magma you called up was rapidly cooling in the rain and the steam rose up smelling like fresh asphalt. The charred corpses of the gangsters who had died were like black statues sticking out of the ground, frozen forever in their state of agony like the ash sculpture corpses of Pompeii and Herculaneum.

He breathed in and out. “MC. Stand down.”

“Ah.” You sigh. “Alright.”

“You lied to me. But I forgive you.” He said.

The man in the striped suit is staring at you and you stare right back. He finally understands that you were not a prize for him. Caesar Gattuso had deceived him into inviting a bomb right in the middle of his troops.

“Grenades! Grenades!” The man in the suit yelled.

The dozen gangsters that remained pulled grenades from their belts and flung them at the backhoe. The grenades blew through the wheels of the machine, rendering it motionless.

That’s when the dark clouds suddenly broke open and a giant B1 bomber descended like a black bird from the sky. The stirring back draft of the low flight swept the whole length of the street, shattering some of the windows, and nearly knocked you off the van . When you regain your balance, you see something descending on a white parachute from the bottom of it near Caesar.

He snatched the box out of the air, opened it and revealed two new weapons. He calmly started loading up his weapons. Was this the power of Cassell? Or was it the Gattuso family? Caesar had to have called someone...

“Boss! That bullet can kill people!” Mingfei gasps.

“The old guys in my family are usually a bunch of dirty bastards, but one thing they say is true. They say that God created the world to be fair and just, and if someone makes a mistake, he should pay the price. Hand for hand, foot for foot. If someone doesn’t pay for their sins, then who will believe in God’s glory?” After he finished loading the rounds, he made the sign of the cross.

“Is that what this is all about? Converting me to Catholicism?” You laugh with incredulity. Even after all this destruction, staring into the face of the black abyss, it was this religion that kept him grounded in his view of the world. “I think our beliefs will stay different. But I don’t mind calling you brother, Caesar. Ow!” You cry out as your hair is suddenly seized.

The man in the striped suit quickly picks up the shotgun and points it at you but then his hand bursts into a shower of flesh and bone. With nothing to hold it, the gun falls into the cooling magma and sticks in upright.

The man in the suit wails, clutching his now empty wrist. The bullet had accurately penetrated his hand. The rounds from the Desert Eagle guns have no difficulty in shattering the skull of a rhinoceros. A human hand was no problem.

Caesar fired both guns, and after emptying them of bullets, he threw the guns to Lu Mingfei for him to help reload. He took out an Uzi from the same box to continue shooting. The gangsters completely lost their fighting spirit, leaving their companions crying and jumping into the vans that were undamaged by the magma. Some were able to jump in but most fell in the rain before they could touch any vehicle. Each bullet passes precisely through their calves.

They had asked Caesar to cripple himself by shooting his hand and calf and now he was crippling them that way. It was casual genius. Caesar simply would not budge from his ideals, nor would you budge from yours. You simply provided space for each other. You found your niche, and he would work around that. So you do stand down and watch Caesar work, your heart icy cold, but warmed by the fires of his company in this wintry dark world.

The van’s wheels spun to get going in the rain, and the vehicles fled to the end of the long street, leaving behind their wounded companions. With them on the run, Caesar leaped from the backhoe and walked over the ruined ground. He raised the Uzi in a smooth arc and fired six shots at the apex, blowing out the tires of the vans.

The vans still tried to roll on the lopsided tires. But then they suddenly stop. The man in the suit got out of the vehicle, dragging the driver with him. Your smile fades a little and your heart rate jumps. But Caesar told you to stand down and these two wouldn’t serve any resistance, right?

The vans of the cargo doors burst open and the dark interiors shined with the lights of roaring motorcycles. Caesar stood like a pillar and closed his eyes.

The guns made a sound you had never heard a gun make before. Like an explosion but beginning and ending with some sort of snarl, like he was holding a vicious dog in his hands. The modified Desert Eagle shot extremely fast. Caesar blasted out a direct rain of bullets. When these gangsters were in range they entered Caesar's exclusive battle field. The tide of the bikes and the rain of the bullets collided head on. The bullets pierced through fuel tanks, broke axles, tore through the wheel wells, and shot out sparks. One by one, the heavy machines collapsed in the puddles, caught fire and exploded and the boys tumbled to the ground, crying out in disbelief. Caesar fired mechanically, his face without expression, not happy or angry or sad.

As for you, the MC, you were still uneasy. You understood what it was like to be herded into battle, as not all the orphans at the facility wanted to fight. Those weak ones were tossed headlong into the ring with more vicious and bloodthirsty opponents to fight it out and learn to like it. They didn’t have a choice.

Just like observing those reluctant kids, you realize suddenly that this whole scene is wrong. These people are being driven to this fight like slaves. You just now noticed their chains when they stopped trying to escape and turned around.

There were still three motorcycles coming in a second wave. Even from this distance you could see the striped suited man, hand missing, eyes white with frenzy, carrying a long knife. Caesar casually tossed a grenade on the ground and rolled it in front of them. It burst and sent the bikes on either side of the man in the suit flying, but he was so determined that he popped his front wheel in the air and rode the explosion, just like Caesar had ridden the air to save Makoto. His blade was aimed directly at Caesar’s heart.

You leap to your feet, but Caesar didn’t move other than to sweep his leg up and kick the fuel canister on the bike.

The man in the suit suddenly realized that his motorcycle was gone and he was floating by himself in the air. The bike had been kicked out from under him and he landed hard, smashing face down right in the road.

Caesar bent over, picked him up by his hair and forced him to watch, feet dangling, as he poured bullets into the motorcycle, smashing its four cylinder engine, axle, silver-plated tailpipe and handle bars, the leather seat, and the precious logo… his beloved motorcycle, that was like his beautiful woman, was turned into nothing more an scrap metal.

“My …” you say to yourself, glancing at the black corpses surrounding you and wondering who was better off.

“I’ll kill you,” Caesar was saying, “But before that, you have to tell me who that “Lord” behind the curtain is.” Caesar shot the man in the ankle, and one of his feet disappeared.

“I have little patience for forced confessions.” Caesar fired another shot, hitting the knee and the man’s calf disappeared.

The man in the suit was struggling to speak in pain, but then Caesar called Lu Mingfei to him. “Translate.”

Lu Mingfei, who had been hiding in the backhoe, fell clumsily from the machine and hurried over, trying not to trip over any charred bodies.

“He said he’s going to take a long time to explain and he’s going to pass out. He’s asking for some wine.” He puffed breathlessly.

“He wants to drink?” Caesar was a little surprised by this lecherous man’s courage.

From your vantage point on the van, you notice that someone is moving in the darkness behind the abandoned vehicles with the flat tires. You leap off the van and hurry over to the back hoe. There were still guns left there. One a Beretta. You snatch it and and run towards Caesar, eyes on the target.

The man in the suit fished out a test tube of purple liquid from his sleeve and sucked the liquid out faster than Caesar could react.

“Poison?” Caesar was taken aback, but it was too late. The test tube fell and shattered in the rain and the man hung limp. You slow to a stop. You thought the shadow was there, but now you don’t see anything.

The man in the suit’s body suddenly twitched feverishly. His flesh started to morph, like he was rapidly healing, yet dying at the same time. The man’s eyes opened with golden pupils! Caesar did not have time to dodge before the man’s fingers - now a pair of vicious bone claws - stabbed into his chest.

He pounced on Caesar with strength that overwhelmed him, hugging him tightly with the claws digging into his back and teeth closing on his neck.

You fire once. The man’s skull ragdolls back. And then again. The man in the suit releases a stunned and bloodied Caesar who lets him fall in a heap to the ground. Lifeless.

Chu Zihang was standing there. Evidently he was the moving shadow. He had run to help Caesar himself but your gun’s bullets reached him before he could. They were still some distance away from you. Between you and them were several of the wounded who were still crawling away, cowering behind trash cans and trying to hide between wrecked cars. All of them could turn into monsters, as far as you were concerned.

You catch the eyes of one who was crouched behind the mailbox. He held up his hands. He cried “No! No!” before his head shattered to pieces. You moved to the next who was scooting away behind two black trash bags. You pull the trigger and he dropped like a stone.

Chu Zihang is racing to meet you. You trace your fingers to draw a line across the street. The ground opens up and a river of lava’s heat comes between you. Meanwhile, you keep shooting, ignoring the gangster’s pleas and prayers. They have to die. They all have to die.

Chu Zihang suddenly seemed to fall from the sky. His eyes are blazing gold, his sword raised.

“No.” You say. You wave your hand and the ground lifts beneath you forming a jagged edge pointed up at him. If Zihang fell on it at this speed, he could have broken ribs or worse, but he rolls in the air, casting a spout of fire to blast him away at the last second.

Your eyes follow the trajectory of his arc. A crack in the pavement follows your gaze. Such extreme control of eruption is only possible thanks to the amount of filaments in the ground. The liquid rock underneath you is almost like a second limb. The ground is shaking and unsteady when Chu Zihang lands and he stumbles and falls. But now his eyes are wide with terror, but looking behind you. You turn and stare down the muzzle of an old revolver. You feel a flash of intense pain. The world around you spins. Colors and images blur together. You land in a puddle, coughing blood. Your world goes dark with Chu Zihang calling your name.

#Dragon Raja #Caesar Gattuso #TW: Death

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frogtanii · 3 years

Note

Wind anon has a test tomorrow so she is gonna be studying for a bit—but it should be okay! (Actually, seeing and reading not only the PF updates but also all the comments from fans give me energy and motivation. It’s really good at cheering me up, so I greatly appreciate how I was able to stumble upon such a community.) Anyway, might as well get to the reaction!

First, starting off with Iwaizumi... every time I see an Iwaizumi start I get a bit anxious like “oh no, it’s him again” type of feeling. Makes me all twisty. But I was like “hm? Why’s he asking where they all are? He drove them to the venue?” So I was like “aaaaa” but softly

And YN with Suga and Akaashi! Soft boys. Very very nice. Suga mentioned reading books as a suggestion to Bokuto before didn’t he? Book crew~ also, I like that there’s a bench by the restrooms of the place. Very conveniently placed, isn’t it? Though the mention that it’s secluded is very fitting with YN needing to recharge the social battery. Some days I need to recharge my battery myself, and I just completely lose the desire to talk once it’s low. I hope YN gets lots and lots of self care days where she doesn’t have to do anything but love being herself. She deserves it.

Kuroo being with Bokuto :D! I like how he’s still sticking by even when he has no clue what they are talking about. It’s wonderful.

And Kenma :0. Same restroom as the one where YN, Akaashi, and Suga are? Because then they all went together. Cute cute cute. A group of introverts.

Sakusa and Atsumu by the snack table. That’s good, that’s good, hope that they had some good food.

Osamu talking to a kid about how he cooks his ramen! Very nice very nice, I feel like there hasn’t been enough chances to show Osamu’s desire and love for food. I mean, there was that one time Meiko got him to cook food for her even when he was tired and I’m still a bit grumpy about that, but it’s nice that he’s getting a chance to socialize to people like this.

Daichi, starting off with saying he was indisposed—my immediate reaction was to zone in and be like “Meiko” but no. It wasn’t her this time. By this point I was like “but...where is she...?” But also, Daichi is being real polite with the way he’s talking. Curious, but not bad. Just interesting to me.

And here we see Iwaizumi doing the classic “I hold the power. I demand answers” I know that he’ll have his redemption arc but I am just very...at odds with him right now and wind anon disapproves. It’s upsetting to see him actually. I can only imagine how YN feels... (oh, I’ve been thinking of what’d it be like to take the place of Meiko. Not right now because that’s asking for wind anon to wake up to animosity and chaos—scary. But like, if wind anon was from the start... platonic cuddling with YN and no drama...)

But Daichi taking care of the wardrobe malfunction. That’s a cool choice. Though I suppose it makes sense. He’s the steady type. Less impulsive and emotion driven compared to Iwaizumi, but still able to get there. Though, considering the amount of stress Iwaizumi has been under, was it really not a thing to ask for help from one of the members, or to request another person from management? There’s...13 members altogether, so 12 people he’s trying to manage right now. I don’t think there would be much loss having 2 managers to care for 6 main members at a time. Might be more efficient, and they could always try a rotational schedule and collaborate if they want more full house content.

I like how Iwaizumi asked “who and where” and when Daichi replied with only The Who, everyone still moved on. Just shows how frazzled and frantic Iwaizumi is under that calm facade.

Iwaizumi commanding them to leave :0! I was really puzzled at this point. Like the rest of the members, I didn’t understand why he was so adamant considering he had made them go to the event to network. And him forgetting Oikawa...

But moving down to the part where Iwaizumi blows up and tells them to get in the limo (because wind anon doesn’t want her reaction to drag too long), it’s very much like Iwaizumi. First there is the message about “there will be another event where you get to pretend you’re relevant for a couple of hours” oh, wind anon is focusing on that line. Obviously, the fact that they are all preoccupied right now is not a concern to him—but this was very emotionally charged and blunt—he didn’t have the patience to frame his thoughts to something prettier and more logical—this is truly what he thinks. “There will be another event” shows that he believes that there definitely will be one—he’s not trying to cover his words so the fact he mentioned there’s another event means it’s not trying to placate them in a sense. I mean, if he’s trying to placate them, rage is not the way to go about it anyway so it would have been a fail even without this, but he specified the event when he could’ve not said a thing about a future event so, yeah. “Where you get to pretend to be relevant for a few hours” oh my gosh. How to go about analyzing this portion? The content, the emotion, the execution, it’s all so...vivid. (10/10 job as always fr0ggy) the fact that he says pretend to be relevant shows how he views the house. Obviously they like the content they create. They care about the content they create. And sure they may not all be big, but relevant? They’re definitely relevant in your career choice Iwaizumi. They got nominated for an award and it’s not as if they were around for a super long time. It’s impressive. You’ll get attention and more of a fan base. Their relevance will definitely grow. The words by themselves are an attack of sorts to the members, showing his belief that they are shallow and fake and trying to get famous and seem big. Makes him seem like he has an inferiority complex of sorts, the way he’s acting. Take everything I say with a grain of salt though. I’m not a doctor.

Okay, next. We have Daichi, who is more reliable and asks for logic! Thank the lords of the PF universe, I literally wouldn’t be able to take too much emotional charge. And then Meiko’s name pops up. The last time I was writing an ask, I was redesigning Meiko’s entire look, and purely the look. I wasn’t doing a character analysis and I didn’t put anything besides my opinions on a better dress but I saw this and the complete blankness my mind went was astonishing.

“She’s a grown woman Tsumu. I left her alone for a few hours, she can handle that.” Y’know, for a cook, he really didn’t realize that was a recipe for disaster. (B-dum tsss. I do like puns) but she’s been shown to not be able to take care of herself and also have a bad personality on top of that so it really was an explosion in the making. I’m the spectrum of not taking care of myself (skipping meals to do schoolwork...skipping meals to sleep...yeah, no) but I think my personality is decent. But Meiko? I actually thought she might be decent with networking. I mean, she picks up guys quite easily doesn’t she? So I was fascinated with what she could’ve possibly done.

Liquor :0 !! I was never interested in drinking liquor that much (though they are pretty a lot of the times...the colors and bottles and glasses are really nice art subjects). Seeing Meiko makes me want to avoid alcohol even more. She started drinking...gosh, she is...a hot mess. Not even kids would be as bad...

Her being “plastered”? Considering that one time where she started drinking a ton before going to a club and...forcing herself on Suga, and how she managed to leave the bathroom completely composed and such, I was mesmerized at the fact she actually managed to drink enough to get completely wasted. And champagne? She must’ve just stuck around and made a whole group of glasses where she was. Also, she didn’t try to get any guys? Wow. Wind anon is staring at her like she’s a particularly weird specimen. She is so...baffling. Confusing.

She insulted and slapped someone :0!!!!!! The amount of exclamation marks show how intense my reaction is. Violent, violent, and such an idiot Meiko is. I hope management steps in. I can’t stand looking at her. But I mean...once she wakes up, like the morning after, would anyone be willing to look and care for her? Such a mess...

I pity the people in management who would have to smooth this over. Gosh, they need a raise and a fruit basket. Like those fancy ones with the fruit cut into shapes on skewers and such. As well as a box of chocolates.

But yeah, I’ll end it here. Been a while since I have a long reaction. I’m pretty sure I got a bit of the analysis wrong and also rambled a bit too much at times, hmmm.

Okay, headcanon time... imagine YN making make up by breaking all of Meiko’s and she just names the mix “Meiko” because it’s a streaky mess. She packages it and gives it to fans for free. It would be fun :D. Only the eyeshadows and stuff though. I do not trust any thing that would directly touch Meiko...like her lipsticks. Bleh.

Sakusa, Akaashi, Suga, Tooru, and YN being eyeliner group. Just imagine Akaashi tilting your head up with the lightest fingers under your chin, while Sakusa braids your hair and folds in some dark silk flowers with pearl centers into it. YN smiling at them after she comes out, with pomegranate lip tint and a leather jacket. Be dangerous YN. Kill us all. YN supremacy <3.

YN and Atsumu would be the two to have the popsicles that you break apart.

Kenma wears red eyeliner once for a dare or a gift to fans or something and all of his fans decide to pass out.

Osamu and Bokuto doing stuff together to promote healthy living.

Okay, gonna end here. I very much appreciate all the support here. Much love towards those who favorite my asks and such too. I’m super glad you all like hearing from me. I mean, we’re all fans of PF and fr0ggy so I hope that everyone is enjoying all of this as much as I am. You all make me very very happy. Much appreciation to all the anons and ask senders and submissions because everyone is super cool.

Take care fr0ggy! Much hearts to you!

oh geez i hope ur test goes well!!!!!!! i don’t have much to say cs ur incredibly eloquent (as usual) but i rlly like the idea of bokuto n osamu promoting healthy living!!!! that rlly hits cs my family is VERY much into healthy living so that just made me happy hehe ILY I HOPE U HAVE A LOVELY DAY KITH KITH <3333

#j’s asks #anons babey #℗ poker face #wind anon

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mischiefandspirits · 3 years

Text

Doppelgänger (17/19)

Previously on Doppelgänger ~ Masterlist ~ Next time on Doppelgänger

Danny, Sam, and Tucker were just 14 when they took a look inside the portal Danny’s parents had built. From there, everything changed. They woke up with white hair, green skin, and powers they could learn to control. They were hybrids, halfas.

They were the hero Doppelgänger.

{Reign Storm, Part 3}

“It’s like shooting skeleton fish in a barrel,” Doppelgänger chuckled as they flew up to Valerie’s side, blasting one of the skeleton’s harrowing her as their own crowd rushed into the football stadium after them.

“They don’t put up much of a fight, but there’s a lot of them,” she argued. “You going to duplicate?”

“Already did. We've got our own crowds.”

“It’d be nice if you could make yourself a crowd in return.”

“Sorry, we’re still working on making more than three of us.”

“Hello, son.”

Doppelgänger gave a long, drawn-out groan as Plasmius flew up to the two despite still firing on the skeletons. The older ghost tried to speak when they’d finished, only for the ghost kid to start right back up.

“Are you quite done?” Plasmius asked over the groaning.

Valerie turned to fire at him, but he dodged to the side. He stopped with Doppelgänger between her and him.

The younger ghost stopped their groaning to say, “You know, a human shield only works if the shield’s both bigger than you and someone that the person you’re hiding from won’t shoot. We are neither of those.”

“You’re also not human,” Valerie pointed out.

“I think that’s debatable, but we’ll add it to the list,” they said and fired a blast at Plasmius.

“Calm down, son! I didn't come here to fight you! You have other things to worry about!”

“Okay, even if we were your kid -- which we aren’t because gross -- we’re nonbinary, so still not your son. So get lost. We have this under control!”

A blur of black barreled into them and rose up to reveal a knight in black armor atop a pegasus. The knight had Doppelgänger by the throat and pointed his sword at them. “You are the one who destroyed the King’s ring.”

“We’re not one, but we have destroyed a ring recently. Not sure if it was a king’s, though. Can we get a description?” Doppelgänger said before a swirl of comets wrapped around them and they disappeared.

Another swirl appeared behind the knight, leaving behind the ghost kid. They cheered and shot a blast that unseated the knight. “Yes, it worked. Still not as far as we’d meant to go, but we’ll take it.”

“If you would allow me to trai-” Plasmius started.

“Not interested. Now make yourself useful.” Doppelgänger pointed at the knight, who was pulling himself to his feet.

The knight’s eyes locked onto Valerie and narrowed. “You also carry the ring’s mark.”

She leveled her rifle at him, but a pair of blasts knocked him away before she could fire.

“Right on time,” Doppelgänger said as their two copies flew into the stadium. “Wait a second, is that the Fright Knight? Who? He’s the age-old spirit of Halloween.” The trio began to casually blast the knight back and forth across the field as they spoke together. “Legend has it that if his sword The Soul Shredder cuts through you, you get teleported to a dimension where you live out your worst fear. We read about him in the book we got for Halloween. Did the book have any way to defeat him? We think there was something about a pumpkin, but we can’t remember. We’ll go check.”

One of the ghost kids shot off, giving the knight a chance to finally dodge a blast. “Fools! All I wanted to do was retrieve those who destroyed the ring and return to Pariah's Keep, but now, you give me no choice.” He knelt and held up his sword, point down. “By the authority vested in me by my Lord and Liege…” The sword began to glow and he drove it into the ground, causing a wave of energy to roll outwards across the ground. “I claim this town now and forever under the banner of Lord Pariah, the King of All Ghosts!”

Energy shot up from the sword high into the air before rolling outwards to form a green dome across the city.

Both remaining Doppelgängers fired at the knight, but he ducked away. “The sword has sunk, your die now cast, The sword removed shall signal fast. Surrender your-”

He was cut off as a blast knocked him rolling across the ground.

“We hate rhymes. Did we find a pumpkin?”

The third Doppelgänger flew up with a smirk and pulled a fake jack-o'-lantern out of thin air.

“Found it in the boxes of old Halloween decorations like we said.”

They landed next to the sword and dropped the decoration at their feet.

“Gotta move fast. Cover us. Red, Plasmius, keep the skeleton’s back. We’ll handle tall, dark, and fashionable. Fashionable? Really? Yes, we love that aesthetic.”

Val nodded and pulled out her grenade launcher as the other two placed themselves between their third and the knight, but Plasmius’s attention was on the ghost kid.

“What are you planning?”

The ghost kid smirked and wrapped their hand around the sword’s grip.

“To cease the storm…”

“No,” the knight yelled, but the ghost kid’s copies kept him back.

“To end the fear…”

“Wait!” Plasmius yelled as the ghost kid began to draw the sword from the ground.

“The sword must sheathe…”

As soon as the blade left the ground, the energy feeding into the dome cut off and it began to crack. Instead of the sky being behind it, Valerie saw the endless green of the ghost zone.

“In pumpkin near!”

Doppelgänger sank the sword into the fake pumpkin and everything froze. Then the sky returned.

White and green light began to pour from the decoration as the dome shuddered then began to rise up and flow back into the sword in a reverse of how it had just formed.

“No, NO!” the knight shouted as a vortex formed above the sword and began to draw him in.

Valerie only had a second to feel victorious before the vortex began to pull at her as well. She lost her footing on her board, but the ghost kid flew in to help her. Two of them grabbed her and the last grabbed her board before they all flew to the bleachers and grabbed hold. Once she was sure she was safe, she looked over the field.

Plasmius had taken refuge on a goal post, but many of the skeletons were being sucked up. The knight was clawing at the ground, but soon lost his grip and disappeared into the swirling green. Once he was gone, the vortex slowed and dissipated while the pumpkin holding the sword -- now looking like an actual jack-o'-lantern, if purple with a green glow -- vanished in a flash.

“Well, that’s one down,” Doppelgänger said.

“You idiot! The sword was a signal!” Plasmius yelled, brushing himself off.

“Yeah, we heard. That’s why we got rid of it!”

“Not soon enough.”

The teens looked up to see a large ghost floating over them.

After a second, one of the ghost kids pointed at him.

“You know, we expected more from the King of All Ghosts. He’s just a guy. A tall guy, but still.”

Another nodded, looking disappointed.

“Yeah, what is this Odin wannabe nonsense? We thought we’d be facing some beautiful Lovecraftian horror. We feel ripped off.”

The third tilted their head.

“He’s not even that big. Like ten feet, maybe. The dragon made a more impressive sight, and she was literally just a fairytale princess. You’d think a king could do better.”

“Are you done ticking him off?” Valerie asked, watching Dark get angrier and angrier.

They shrugged. “We’re just saying. He doesn’t even have a crown.”

Then the one who’d tilted their head shot to the side, the one who’d nodded stepped in front of Valerie and raised a shield, and the one who’d pointed braced for impact as Dark sent a massive blast towards them.

The shield held, but the ghost kid was forced to a knee as they poured their strength into it and it shattered apart as soon as it wasn’t needed. Once it was down, Valerie could see that the one who’d taken the blast head-on had created a crater in the bleachers that they were pulling themself out of. Meanwhile, the one who’d avoided it was zipping around the field, keeping Dark’s attention. They fired upon the king while bobbing and weaving around the return fire.

It didn’t look like the attacks were doing much damage.

“That hurt,” they said as the one limped towards her and their kneeling copy turned to her. “You should get clear.”

“We should all fall back,” Plasmius said, appearing next to them.

“Even if we could, he’d destroy the town trying to chase us down. You can run if you want to,” they said then they shot towards the field.

One landed and held their hands out. Thick wires shot out of the ground and grabbed Dark’s legs, electrocuting him in the process. At the same time, the other ghost kid shot towards the fight. They engaged the king as the one that had been fighting him backed off. They reached to the side and plucked a pot holding a glowing spider-like plant out of nowhere. They chucked the plant at Dark’s head then re-engaged him as their copy pulled back to command the plant to wrap around the king’s eyes and neck.

“The boy has Chlorokinesis?” Plasmius said.

“You didn’t know that?” Valerie said, checking her rifle and calling her board to her.

“He’s never used it against me. He’s only even used the Technokinesis recently.”

“They’ve had both for as long as I’ve known them. They’ve tried to use it on me, but I’m usually too high for the plants and my gear’s protected against their control.”

“ENOUGH!”

The two looked up to see Dark snatch the plant-controlling ghost kid from the air and throw them. The other flying one tried to catch them, but they both ended up crashing to the ground. The third flew over to them as the king tore off the wires and burned away the plant.

“Our baby,” the ghost kid whined, one staring at the plant’s burning remains with fury.

“Surrender, children! You can't possibly win!”

“Surrender isn’t in our vocabulary. And we can’t possibly let you loose on our city.” The one that had been controlling the wires helped the one that had been thrown to their feet, letting them lean against them, as the other placed themself in front of the two. “Besides, we don't have to win. we just have to make sure that you lose.”

Dark scowled and shot a blast at them. The one in front summoned a shield, but it shattered almost immediately and the three took most of the blast.

Valerie leveled her rifle at Dark, but Plasmius yanked it away.

“Don’t be foolish, girl. He will kill you.”

“Like you care.

“Considering you’re my only help, I do. We need a plan.”

“Face it, children, it's over.”

Valerie turned back to the field to see Dark walking towards the trio as they slowly got up onto their knees.

“No,” they growled. “No!”

Shaking with pain, the trio looked up.

Their goggles glowed with black energy and then three things happened at once.

The one on the left threw their head back and screamed. Black sonic waves tore through the field and slammed into the king.

The one in the middle doubled over, hands clawing at the ground as they keened. Thick black vines wove in and out of the ground in front of them until they could latch onto the king, wrapping around his arms and legs to tear deep gashes into his skin with their thorns.

The one on the right wrapped their arms around themselves and sobbed. Black tears flowed down their face and formed a void beneath them that stretched out underneath the king.

The vines held him still, the rings drained his power, and the void drew him in.

Dark thrashed against his bindings, but they held and he was soon consumed by the darkness.

The trio collapsed.

The field went silent, the vines shriveled into nothing, and the darkness faded.

Consciousness clearly fading, the trio latched hands and fell through the ground.

Oddly though, they didn’t seem to go intangible and Valerie swore she saw the faintest hint of a white-blue-purple light just before they completely disappeared.

Slowly, she turned to Plasmius to see him gaping at the now empty field. “Did you know they had that kind of power?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny stared out at the stars as Blobena nuzzled up against his cheek.

“My everything hurts,” Tucker croaked, the first sound any of them had made since Danny had dropped them into the Space Fold then promptly passed out. He’s not sure how long they’ve been in there now, but he’s been awake for at least an hour and he knew the others woke before him.

“Sh!” Sam moaned.

It was quiet for a few moments, then Sam asked, “Danny. Why are your blobs in here? More importantly, why is one trying to eat my hair?”

With a sigh, Danny turned to see Sam and the blob in question. “I think Blobson likes the taste of your shampoo. He did the same thing to me two weeks ago when you let me shower at your place after the fight with Garbage Manster.”

“Wait, you seriously named them all? And with blob puns?” Tucker said, pinwheeling slowly near Sam’s feet. “I thought that was just a joke you and Valerie were telling.”

“We had a lot of time in that cage, okay?”

“Danny, get this thing off my hair or I’m smashing it.”

The boy pouted, but reached over to scoop up the blob. He set him on his shoulder next to Bloberick.

“Now again, what are they doing here?”

“In my defense, I just meant to hide them in here for a second because my mom was coming down the stairs and I didn’t have time to get them all back through the portal. I’ve tried to get them to leave, but they won’t.”

“You keep my ghost plants in here!” she huffed, gesturing to the quartet of pots holding plants she’d gathered from the ghost zone.

“They don’t bother them, promise!”

“Speaking of which, how dare you throw Arachne at that jerk!”

“Our ecto-beams weren’t doing much! I thought the poison on her fronds would help!”

“We can get you a new one, Sam,” Tucker said. “It’s not like it was sentient like Audrey II.”

“We can get you a new phone, Tucker,” she shot back. “It’s not like it’s sentient like Audrey II.”

“She’s as good as!” Tucker gasped, pulling his phone out to clutch it to his chest. “Talk to me, baby.”

“Hello, Tuck-man. The time is 9:34 p.m.”

Danny snickered. “Tuck-man.”

“Shut it, Danny Blobton,” Tucker said, grabbing one of the blobs floating near him and tossing it at Danny.

If anything, the blob seemed to be pleased by the action, even as it squished against his forehead. It gave a singing buzz and nuzzled further against him.

“Great, now Blobnessa is never going to let go.”

“Dude, you’ve got issues.”

“Wait, did your phone say it was after nine at night?” Sam asked, turning to Tucker.

“Yeah, it said… Oh man, how long have we been gone for?”

“My parents are probably tearing the town apart looking for me,” Danny groaned.

“Not to mention your girlfriend. I’m sure my parents are already blaming you. Crud, I’m going to have to wear their stupid dresses for a week if they’re ever going to let me see you again,” Sam said, grabbing Danny’s arm and tugging him to her.

“I swear, if my parents try to take me on one of those tech-free relaxation getaways because of this, I’m moving into the fold. Blobs or not,” Tucker muttered, hooking his ankle around Sam’s.

Danny gently shooed and brushed all the blobs off himself then turned all three of them invisible and dropped them onto the football field.

Thankfully no one was around so they turned visible and climbed to their feet.

“We’re going to need alibis,” Sam said.

“Got cornered by some skeletons in an abandoned building?” Tucker offered. “Only came out when we were sure it was safe, but then didn’t recognize where we were and stumbled about until we found somewhere familiar.”

“Sounds good enough for me,” Danny yawned. “Can either of you transform?”

They shook their heads.

“Guess we’re walking.”

They only made it a block before the Fenton RV came roaring up and a hysterical Maddie Fenton tackled Danny to the ground.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #valerie gray #sam manson #tucker foley #Doppelgänger au

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friendship-ended-with-pokespe · 3 years

Text

Kirby: Meta Knight and the Strongest Warrior in the Galaxy Chapter 4

Energy Sphere, produced by an advanced civilization of Halcandra in the remote past. Released from the music box, it sparkled more and more strongly. With it, the space around Energy Sphere began warping. Meta Knight stood on the ground and was glaring at the warped space.

Kirby and the others don't know what to do at this point. Everyone gasped and watched. A star-shaped hole opened on the distorted space. Spreading on its other side is endless darkness. King Dedede groaned. “So that’s the extradimensional road......!” Simultaneously, something jumped out from the star-shaped hole. It is a purple creature with a round head and wings grown similar to a bird. Dwelling in Another Dimension, a Sphere Doomer has already sniffed out the presence of an Energy Sphere. It then forced opened a hole to this side of the world and trespassed into here. Giving no glance at the Sphere Doomer, Meta Knight shouts at the hole leading to the extradimensional road. “The sealed warrior, Galacta Knight! Open your eyes once more and fight me!” “O......Oi......this isn’t good.” King Dedede is flustered and shouts. “We close that hole before Galacta Knight is resurrected! Hey, you meathead.” The king calls out to Sphere Doomer. Sphere Doomer is excited about finding an Energy Sphere which it’s fond of. It tries to swallow the Energy Sphere, but its body being too small, it cannot open its mouth fully and appears to be having difficulty. “Close up that hole this instant and go back!” King Dedede’s hollers don't reach Sphere Doomer. Captain Vul said. “I think that thing’s still a child. It’s so small that it can’t swallow the Energy Sphere.” “Dang it, you’re so useless! Just swallow the thing and go back!” King Dedede grabs Sphere Doomer and skates it. Sphere Doomer flapped its wings as if in a panic. Kirby stopped him. “Stop it, I feel sorry for it.” “But if we don’t hurry up......!” “We won't make it!!” Captain Vul yells aloud, and almost at the same time: A remarkably strong light illuminates the surrounding, and everyone involuntarily shrank away. As it revolved slowly, something similar to a large crystal fell from the hole leading to the extradimensional road. It is light purple and sparkles like a jewel. Its beauty and dazzle left everyone at a loss for words.

With the appearance of the crystal, the star-shaped hole closed up. Meta Knight was the first to come to his senses. “Galacta Knight......!” Simultaneously as he shouted, the light purple crystal split into pieces. Emerging from there is a warrior wearing a white mask. Two gold-colored horns are on his head, and pure white wings are grown in his back. It’s even bigger and more robust than Meta Knight’s wings. His eyes below his mask are crimson like flames. It was devoid of any emotions whatsoever. Emitting an overwhelming aura, the strongest warrior in the galaxy was at last released from his seal and landed on the ground. “Galacta Knight, we meet again.” Meta Knight’s voice was shrill from his delight. Galacta Knight quietly turned to Meta Knight. On its right hand is an enormous rose-colored lance. Its left hand is holding a white shield with a cross-shaped crest engraved on it. “My apologies as you just awoke, but if you could have match with-” Before Meta Knight could finish his words, Galacta Knight was starting the battle. Readying its enormous lance, he charges right at Meta Knight in a straight line. His speed is too fast for the eyes to notice. Meta Knight was doing all he can to dodge by rolling. The Meta Knights trembled. “W-What an incredible speed......!” “He won’t stand a chance if he gets stabbed by that huge lance!” “My lord......” Having regained his stance, Meta Knight unleashed a quick series of attacks. Galacta Knight held up his shield high, however. It isn’t to only defend against the attacks. A shockwave was fired from the cross-shaped crest engraved on his shield. Meta Knight lost his posture from such an unforeseen attack. His rose-colored lance strikes at Meta Knight who stumbled.

Meta Knight jumped aside by the skin of his teeth. Where Meta Knight was at was bored by the tip of the lance, and the ground cracked with a ripping sound. The Meta Knights were overwhelmed and stood bolt upright. King Dedede shouts. “We’re gonna get caught up if we stay here. Stay back and protect yourself!” As soon as he shouted, he grabbed Waddle Dee’s hand and darted to the crumbled palace. The Meta Knights wavered. “But we have to bear witness to this battle......” “I can’t believe that our lord would have this much of a hard time.” “We need to stay close so that in case he gets seriously wounded, we can treat him right away!” “Aye, well said, you lads.” Captain Vul nodded. “That's what I expected of Lord Meta Knight’s men. Of course we don’t run away!” However, a sudden gust of wind blew just then. A whirlwind was created from the impact of Galacta Knight swinging his lance. Everyone who stood stock still was hit by the gust and fell down. Kirby rose up and said. “Owieee......it’s dangerous here. We should run, everyone!” “Blast it......regretful, but there’s no choice! It’s not like we’ll be of any help to our lord by staying here. All members, take cover for now!” Kirby and the others began running toward the palace.

Scorched by the lightning, the palace’s ceiling has collapsed, it’s pillars broken, and was desolated. But for now, they can protect themselves from the impact of the fierce battle held outside. The group plopped down on the hall of the palace and finally caught their breath. “So that’s Galacta Knight. He isn’t praised as the strongest in the galaxy for nothing.” Said Sword Knight, trembling with fear, and Blade Knight nodded as well. “His strength is beyond imagination. Our lord is so cool to be able to fight on par with such an opponent!” “But I’m worried.” Said Trident Knight uneasily. “Say what you like, but Galacta Knight is just way too powerful. On the chance that our lord......” “Hmph, like I give a crud. He can receive the worst injury there is, but that’s what he wished for.” Said King Dedede with a displeased look. “Setting that aside, we have a big problem.” “What?” “It’s about what happens if Meta Knight were to lose.” The Meta Knights raised their objections in unison. “What did you just say!?” “There’s no way our lord would lose!” “Galacta Knight may be a formidable foe, but our lord is sure to be stronger!” “No, wait.” Sword Knight stopped his cohorts and said. “It was a draw last time. That is to say, the two are almost equal in terms of skill. I don’t want to think about it, but the possibility of our lord losing isn’t zero.” “Then no one can stop Galacta Knight now.” To Dedede’s words, everyone present exchanged looks. Captain Vul said. “Galacta Knight holds the power to easily destroy a star......” “Right. And I guess he also likes to battle. That’s why it was feared all over the galaxy and sealed.” “In the worst case that Lord Meta Knight loses, Galacta Knight will begin rampaging all he wants......” Holding his breath as if spooked by his own words, Captain Vul began shouting in a choked voice. “O-O-Oh no!! The galaxy is going to get completely destroyed!!” “That’s why he shouldn’t have done something so stupid as removing the seal on Galacta Knight! That maniac!” King Dedede waved his fists in a fit of anger. Waddle Dee said while shivering. “Lord Meta Knight is a deep thinker. There’s no way he wouldn’t have known that unsealing him is incredibly dangerous......why on earth would he......” “Hmph, he’s just pretending to be smart and is in fact an idiot. He becomes narrow-minded once he starts acting rashly.” “The heck did you just say!? Don’t you insult our lord!” The Meta Knights were roused up once again and lashed out at King Dedede. However, Captain Vul said in a stern voice. “Our lord thinks more deeply than anyone. I have no doubt about that, but......it’s true that his wish to become stronger is way too great. That’s why he went this recklessly far without considering the danger at hand......” Hearing him, the Meta Knights were crestfallen. “......It’s all because Moa was there.” “This isn’t our lord’s fault.” A heavy silence came. King Dedede was the one to break it. “Grumbling ain’t gonna do anything. Let’s think of something in the event that Meta Knight loses. In any event, the galaxy will be annihilated unless we find a way to seal him again somehow!” “But exactly who could bring down a warrior that can defeat even Lord Meta Knight......” Said Javelin Knight in a gloomy voice, but suddenly broke off. Everyone thought of the same thing simultaneously and lifted their face. Everyone’s gaze roamed the surroundings, where Waddle Dee then said. “H-Huh? He’s gone again. “He sure gets lost a lot. Is he still remaining outside?” “No, I’m sure he rushed into this palace with me......” At that moment, Mace Knight found Kirby in the shade of a fractured pillar. “There he is. What’re you doing there, Kirby?” Everyone drew closer to Kirby. Kirby is sitting in the shade of the pillar. He isn’t alone. Next to him is that strange purple creature, Sphere Doomer. It looks to have somehow managed to swallow the Energy Sphere, and the inside of its mouth was shining brightly. “What, it’s you. You’re still here?” Said King Dedede. They all forgot about Sphere Doomer as the impact from Galacta Knight was far too great. Kirby said. “It’d be dangerous for it to stay outside. I guess Sphere Doomer ran here to not get caught up as well.” “Hmph, what’s with that carefree look of yours. It’s all because of you that Galacta Knight was unsealed!” Shouted King Dedede at him, but Sphere Doomer is floating with an insouciant look. Captain Vul said. “This fella was only drawn to an Energy Sphere and came into this world. We can’t really blame it, can we?” “You’re right. Besides, the Sphere Doomer I met before was really violent and attacked me right out of the gate, but this kid feels different. It’s still young and is only shivering since it doesn’t know much about this world.” “......Wait a minute.” King Dedede pondered. “The extradimensional road that this thing forced open has been closed. So does that mean that we need to open the hole with this thing’s power one more time in order to send Galacta Knight back to that world?” “Yes, exactly.” Captain Vul nodded. “There are two procedure in sealing Galacta Knight. First, you defeat him and confine him in the crystal. Second, you send that crystal back to Another Dimension. We need Sphere Doomer’s power in opening the extradimensional road.” “Okay, got it. Sphere Doomer thingy. With your power, open an extradimensional road and take Galacta Knight back with you.” Sphere Doomer is floating.

“Got it? You have an important role.” There is no response. King Dedede threw a tantrum. “Are you listening to me!? You do know what to do, don’t you!?” “You’re too hard on him, Dedede.” Said Kirby. “I was talking to it for some time, but it doesn’t really understand me. It doesn’t know what I’m saying since it’s a creature from Another Dimension.” “Wha......it just has to be in a crucial time like this!” “But it’s ok-ay!” Said Kirby in a cheerful voice and spun once. “It doesn’t get what I’m saying, but I understand its feelings. This Sphere Doomer is still young, so its strength is also weak. It was drawn to an Energy Sphere and came to this world. But it seems to be in a pickle because it doesn’t know the way back.” “Wha......” Captain Vul turned pale. “What the heck are you saying!? It doesn't know the way back? You mean to say that it can’t open an extradimensional road!?” “Uh-huh. It must’ve forgotten itself when it came here. But I guess it forgot the way back.” “Then we can’t send the crystal back to Another Dimension!” Captain Vul’s face stiffened. “Not good. Not good at all......the crystal for sealing doesn’t last long in this world. Even if we defeat Galacta Knight and successfully seal him, it’ll be for nothing as long as we can’t send him back to Another Dimension!” Everyone held their breath and fixed their eyes on Sphere Doomer. Sphere Doomer is only floating, whether he understands what he heard or not. Kirby thought about it a little and said. “Hmmm......I don’t really get it, but we need to find a way for Sphere Doomer to return, huh.” “That’s right! It means annihilation for the galaxy if an extradimensional road can’t be opened!” “Okay, I get it now!” Kirby unfolded both his hands and nodded. Waddle Dee’s eyes sparkled. “So you do know how? That’s Kirby for you!” “So what should we do?” Everyone pressed Kirby. Kirby said merrily. “Mmm, I don’t really know how, but everyone should do their best!” “........................” Everyone’s face turned dismal. Only King Dedede flew into a rage and roared. “It’s not “do your best!” We can’t open no road no matter how hard we try!” “You have a point, but......Sphere Doomer can help us out!” “What and how is it going to help us out!??” Captain Vul stopped King Dedede who tried to strangle Kirby. “Wait. The extradimensional road is important too, but we need to defeat Galacta Knight and seal him back in the crystal first. Although it won’t be a problem if my lord wins......” Captain Vul cleared his throat. “I do believe that Lord Meta Knight will win, but Galacta Knight is an incredibly formidable foe. We need to think of a plan B in the unlikely event of our lord being defeated!” “If it’s Kirby......” Said Waddle Dee. “If it’s Kirby, I’m certain that we’ll win. Hey, Kirby.” “Huh? Me?” Kirby opened his eyes widely in surprise. King Dedede said. “I’d rather not rely on you, but the galaxy is in a big pinch. It’s the only choice.” “I’m supposed to fight Galacta Knight~?!”

Kirby shouted out loud. “NO! I don’t wanna fight!” They all held on to Kirby who was ready to flee. “Kirby, please.” “You’re the only hope of the galaxy!” “Kirby! No, Mr. Kirby! Lord Kirby! Grand Sovereign Master Kirby!” “It doesn’t matter what you call him~!” Kirby was in a fix, being seen by everyone with eyes filled with expectations. “I don’t wanna fight......” Said Kirby quietly, where Sword Knight pressed him. “Of course we know how scared you are. Seeing how powerful the opponent is. But you’re the only warrior that could stand against Galacta Knight.” Blade Knight said in addition. “Of course, we’ll support you with all our strengths as well. I ask you, Kirby.” “I’m......” Mumbled Kirby. Doesn't wish to fight because the opponent is too strong; it wasn’t because of that. It is because he cannot find any reason to fight. He knows that it is dangerous to let Galacta Knight rampage as he wants. But it was Meta Knight’s wish to begin with for Galacta Knight to be unsealed. He wished to become much stronger. Kirby didn’t understand. To be much, much more powerful; such a wish could never end. Just how strong is enough for Meta Knight? Meta Knight’s wish must've emerged from the pure desire to protect his men. But that wish is too great, where he might’ve become incapable of thinking anything else. How could he wish for a battle solely to become stronger, lending no ears to the heartfelt words from Captain Vul and the others? -Kirby couldn’t understand. He feels sorry for Galacta Knight who was unsealed for something like that. Unsealed only to fight and sealed within the crystal a second time once defeated. He didn’t want to fight such an opponent. But none of them understood Kirby’s feelings. “You’re the one who can fight, Kirby.” “We have plenty of Copy Essences too!” “What’re you gonna use? Is it Fire? Ice? Pick the one that you’re most confident with!” Hounded by everyone, Kirby hung his head. “I......don’t wanna......” It was when Kirby was about to insist feebly. There was a large impact all of a sudden and the floor shook. The palace which had crumbled from the start was unable to withstand it. The hardly remaining pillars broke with a cracking sound. “W-What is it!?” “The battle between the two at last......” Everyone was flurried and ran for cover. To a cavity alongside the wall for Captain Vul and the rest from the Halberd. To the back of a rubble for King Dedede and Waddle Dee. To the shade of the fractured pillar for Kirby and Sphere Doomer. Once everyone took refuge in their shelter, a large hole opened on the wall and Meta Knight came tumbling in. He took a direct hit from the series of attacks by Galacta Knight. Galacta Knight came after him immediately afterwards. He isn’t the slightest short of breath even while battling this intensely. Standing ready with his massive lance once again, Galacta Knight charged at the collapsed Meta Knight. “SIR!!” Shouted Captain Vul and the Meta Knights in one voice. The moment it seemed as though he would be impaled, Meta Knight leaped to his feet. His treasured sword, Galaxia emits gold-colored lights. He steps his one foot forward and swings Galaxia hard. Galaxia repulsed the attack from the lance and directly hit Galacta Knight. It is an enormous force, where Galacta Knight held out barely and still stumbled. He drew back unsteadily and fell with his back facing down. He tumbles down to the other side of a platform where a throne once was. “He did it!” Yelled Captain Vul and the other men in joy, and rushed out from the spot they were hiding in. “I expected nothing less, sir!” “I can’t believe that you won against Galacta Knight!” “You really are the greatest swordsman in the galaxy!” Meta Knight didn’t respond even as he heard the joyful voice of his men. His subordinates that were about to rush over to him suddenly paused. His body was still brimming with thirst for battle and blood. So much so that if they approached him carelessly, they could be cut to shreds. “Not yet. This isn’t over.” Muttered Meta Knight and jumped onto the platform. He peers into the spot where Galacta Knight tumbled down to. “......Not there!?” Meta Knight looked around with eyes lusting for blood. Kirby calls out to him, having come out from the shade of the pillar. “Meta Knight......are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” “Kirby......” As if struck with an idea, Meta Knight jumped down from the platform and stood in front of Kirby. “I see. This is you doing.” “Huh?” “You disapprove of me fighting. So you hid Galacta Knight?” “Huh? Huh? I didn’t do anything......” “Quit screwing around. Where is Galacta Knight!?” Meta Knight is so enraged that he is on the verge of slashing at Kirby “I don’t know~!” Pleaded Kirby, flapping his hands. “He has no relation to this. I saw for sure that Galacta Knight rolled down to the other side of the platform.” Said King Dedede. “But he’s nowhere to be seen.” “Didn’t he ran away?” To Dedede’s words, Captain Vul nodded. “He probably ran away in surprise of your immense strength. I expected no less in scaring off the strongest warrior in the galaxy!” “Absolutely not!” Meta Knight swung his sword in vexation. “The match hasn’t been settled yet. In no way would he flee!” “But......” Said Kirby. “It can’t be helped now that he’s gone. You should have some snacks and take a rest, Meta Knight.” “......Kirby.” Meta Knight turned back to Kirby. “Then you be my opponent.” “Eh?” “I’m not satisfied with the curtain falling like this. I want to fight a powerful opponent.” “You mean that you’ll fight me!?” Kirby jumped up. “No. I don’t wanna be your opponent.” “Copy one of my men. Whether it be Sword Knight or Blade Knight.” “I said I don’t wanna! More than that, you should return to the Halberd and have snacks with everybody!” But Meta Knight didn’t try to lend any ears to Kirby’s words. Having his Galaxia at the ready, he slashes at Kirby with nothing to persuade him otherwise. “KYAAAAA!” Screamed Kirby and made a run for it. “Wait, Kirby! Fight me!” “Didn’t I say that I don’t wanna!?” Meta Knight chases after Kirby skedaddling. King Dedede said as he saw the two running around the palace. “Something’s wrong with him. That punk, I never knew that he likes to quarrel that much.” “What my lord desires isn't to quarrel. It’s to train.” Captain Vul talked back, but the king shook his head. “Now that it has come to this, it varies to neither training nor quarrel. I may not like Kirby, but attacking him one-sidedly is even more obnoxious than quarreling.” “Guhhh......” Captain Vul folded his arms and moaned. Sword Knight said. “Our lord’s adherence to the sword is greater than anyone. I admire how he wishes to become stronger when he’s already strong enough, but......” “He’s going off the deep end. Looks like I have no choice but to cool down that heated head of his!” With his favorite hammer in his hands, King Dedede made his way toward the two running about.

Trident Knight said. “Even King Dedede is participating in the battle! Just what is this coming to?” Waddle Dee mumbled as he followed the three with his eyes. “It’d be great if no one were to quarrel......”

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#kirby novels #kirby of the stars #light novel #translation #Grand Sovereign Master Kirby #meta knight #king dedede #waddle dee #galacta knight #captain vul #meta knights #sword knight #blade knight #sphere doomer

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obeymeaskme · 3 years

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Obey Me!: Human and Demon Hearts!

A/N: Just a reminder to check out my pinned post to see all the chapters!

Chapter Four: The Incident (1/2)

Word count: 1,604

Rating: 18+

By the time Tuesday morning had arrived, Satan had already bragged to the whole household about how he 'found a cure for Noelle's pesky ailment'. This was the reason everyone was sitting at the table waiting. After all it was the first time most of the brothers saw Noelle since Sunday morning, excluding Asmo who tried to charm her a second time at school, and Levi who was forced to be near her due to being her guide. Thankfully the relations between the others in the house hadn't gotten any worse than before.

The explanation was simple. She has to learn to control, her own magic.

"Someone has to teach her magic." Satan said with a blissful smile. The others groaned against it. Most of them. Asmodeus seemed to want to take that responsibility in a heartbeat.

"Oh! I can do it! After all I'm one of the few who won't try and tear her to shreds~"

Noelle and Bella shared a concerned look at his request. Neither fully confident his intentions were pure. Thankfully, Lucifer was on the same page as they were.

"You will do no such thing Asmodeus. We will let Leviathan handle it."

"WHAT!?"

Everyone turned their heads towards the serpent demon and his outburst. He hadn't been paying full attention to the conversation. So the news of him being forced to teach the 'Normie' shocked him.

"Why me! That's so unfair!"

Lucifer gave his final retort.

"You're the only one who hasn't spent nearly as much time as the others. Perhaps if you weren't lost in your anime fantasies and actually tried to get along with Noelle, you could have gone under my radar…"

The conversation seemed to end there, and so did the meeting. Everyone had gone off on their own ways, eager to continue their activities. Everyone but Levi, and Noelle.

Even under Lucifer's instructions Leviathan had managed to keep her at a distance. He had her follow him to the library, and tossed her a book. It was a book on beginners' magic. His grand plan was for her to learn on her own while he played games on his hand held device. No matter how hard Noelle tried, she couldn't gather the courage to ask him questions when they occurred.

The rest of the day went by slowly, and Noelle and Bella finally had a chance to catch up with each other. Both of them burrowing themselves under Bella's mountain of stuffed animals. Her being the first to speak.

"So… You and Levi huh?"

Noelle sighed and nodded in response, letting her friend do the talking.

"I'm sorry if it's not going well for you. Look at the bright side! You get to learn magic. That's pretty cool."

Noelle gave another nod, this time adding a forced smile, and verbally interacting.

"Yeah. I asked Satan for help but when he starts, he doesn't seem to slow down. We both figured I'd be better off on my own."

"What about Lord Diavolo? He's such a big shot, why doesn't he get you a tutor?"

Noelle shrugged.

"I tried that. A tutor is too much use of the school's resources, and Lord D is really keen on the brothers being our guide…"

"That sucks…"

Night came around which it gave Noelle a chance to rest before tomorrow. The only hope of her gaining Levi's companionship was just a sunset away.

Morning came with it's usual dark and hazy atmosphere. Bella had stretched her way out of bed, trying not to trip over the passed out Belphegor who made his nest on her floor. They had watched a movie the night before, both falling asleep halfway through.

On her way going downstairs she came across Noelle, who was just now coming out of her room. They exchanged a quick hello, and gathered their school supplies. Noelle took a deep breath and followed her out the door. On the way to school a group of lower level demons had been slouching around the gates of the entryway. These were the same group of demons that have been bugging both girls throughout the week prior. But most of their pranks were pretty plain, and nothing to be concerned about, especially when Beel was hanging around them. At least, up until today.

"Hey Human Meatballs! Where do you think you're going?"

The girls did their best to ignore them. But sometimes ignoring someone in hopes they go away doesn't work. Especially with demons. In one quick motion one of the demons had snagged Bella by the hoodie, pulling her back into their grasps. Noelle had panicked and followed them, trying to grab onto Bella as much as possible. Anger in her voice.

"HEY! Let go of her, you dumb asses!"

The demon's mocking tones was their only response. Thinking quickly on her feet she unzipped Bella's sweater, giving her friend a makeshift get away. Noelle on the other hand felt a sharp pain in her arm, as the others grabbed and pulled on her. Then all at once, they stopped. Hands frozen in place.

The air surrounding them grew thick and heavy. Out of Noelle's eyesight, a familiar growl was heard. Without warning all three demons turned on their heels and ran off. Noelle had turned around to see what made them flee, her heart beating in her chest. She calmed down quickly seeing the familiar blue eyes of Satan as he rushed to her side.

"I saw everything. How's your arm?"

"My arm-"

As soon as she moved her limb, a shot of pain rippled through it. Satan had pulled the sleeve back, even against Noelle's howls of protest. The skin was cut deeply and it was bleeding. Satan rubbed his hand over it and growled, dragging her along to sit on a bench.

"I have to go get Lucifer. He's the only one who can help-"

"NO!"

Satan looked at her in shock. His head tilted in confusion.

"It's… not that bad. Please, promise me you won't tell him. If he figures out I got into a fight, let alone one that got me hurt, he'll send me back to the human world! He'll force me to leave Bella by herself!"

Satan took a deep, unsure breath and agreed to keep it a secret. For now he patched her up to the best of his abilities, and they went through school like nothing happened.

Neither of them saw the demon bullies for the rest of the day.

The school day itself went along well. Assignments had been finished in most of the girl's classes so they found themselves wandering the hallways multiple times. Noelle had checked up on her, and returned her sweater during a study hall. Both of them trying to find ways to patch up the holes that were left behind.

Satan had joined them on the way back to the House, along with Beel and Belphegor who both apologized for not being around during the earlier encounter. But that didn't matter. They were back home where it was safe.

Noelle had just barely flopped on her bed when a knock was heard on the door. Once back up on her feet, she found a small package sitting outside of her room. Her excitement grew knowing exactly what it was. She all but slammed the door and sat at her crafting table, taking out a sharp knife to open the package.

Sitting inside was the Ruri-chan figurine she'd been waiting for. She'd never really won anything with raffles, especially not with something so wide-scaled. Immediately she took Ruri-chan out of the cluttered shipping paper and ran to Levi's room, knocking on it.

"What's the password?"

Noelle giggles to herself, not knowing the password but knowing how to get his attention.

"Does the sound of a Ruri-chan special edition Soda Brand Figurine count?"

Almost instantly she was met with Orange eyes, and swept hair. Her high energy quickly faded the longer he glared at the box in her hands.

"How did you get that?"

Noelle shrunk back as black hot ashes flaked off from Levi's body.

"I heard about the figurine contest and decided to give it a try?"

They locked eyes, and Levi gave an airy hiss, backing her up across the hallway, demon form unleashed.

"So what? You came here to rub it in my face? Mock me for being an Otaku or something? That's pretty stupid, not to mention low-"

Noelle began to squeeze her eyes shut, not being able to look at him out of fear. She didn't even see him grab her injured arm until it was too late. Even when she was brought to her knees he still persisted.

"And all you ever do is mock me behind my back right? That's why you're so chummy with my brothers too, right? You think I'm so below you, even if you're just a Normie-"

"LET GO!"

Noelle had quickly tossed the box at him, hitting him in the face. He released her, ignoring her silent sobs as she gripped her arm. It took him a few minutes to process the blood on his hand wasn't from his face. Looking down at her, he slowly pieced together the two things that had just happened.

A 'Normie' had wanted to help him win something he wasn't going to get on his own, and how aggressive he was towards her. Concerned that he broke her arm, he pulled her up and ran with her to the bathroom. His heart beat finally steadied as he saw bleeding scratch marks, and nothing to indicate he broke any bones.

#obey me: human and demon hearts #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphagor #obey me fanfic #obey me oc

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zmediaoutlet · 4 years

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in support of wildfire relief, an anonymous reader donated $25 and requested John/Dean, Stanford era. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post.

Snow on the ground; two days into the new year and John's home. Finally. What was supposed to be a good lead turned into a bad lead, but it was a job either way. He solved the riddle, killed the wraith. Only two dead, which these days means that it was a win, but it doesn't feel so much like one. He's got a laceration on his arm and everything in him feels—bruised. He wants a drink, and a bath, and a warm bed, but he wants, too—

He pulls into the motel parking lot and there's the Impala. Something goes easier in his chest, when he sees it. He parks the truck in the empty space right by the old beast and sits there, in the dark, easing himself for a second. The Impala has a fine layer of snow, gleaming in the neon light. In room 16, there's a do not disturb and the curtains are drawn tight but a little lamplight's leaking out, and John wishes that he didn't have to open the door, didn't have to get up, and stand, and unpack. He just wants to teleport, somehow, from here to there. To be in bed and in comfort, and have none of the troubles in between.

He opens the door. Cold. Why on earth, he thinks, did he say they'd meet up in Minnesota.

He knocks twice and then once, and then twice again. The room opens up, immediately, and Dean's face—John comes in, stepping over the salt line, and there's a blast of warmth from the heater, a wash of yellowish light, the television on and playing some show, that doctor drama. Noise and energy, after the dark empty of the night outside, and he dumps his bags on the table and closes his eyes, breathing it in. Smells like pizza. Well, Dean's been on his own, for a few days.

The door closes. Lock, chain. John drags his hand over his hair and Dean says, quietly, "You okay?"

He's leaning against the door, when John turns around. In jeans, and a red flannel shirt that's seen better days, and grey soft socks. Home, John thinks again, and then he has to look at Dean's face again, and it's like a dozen thumbs are pressing into all his bruises, all at once.

His boy. "I'm good," he says, and Dean's face doesn't get better. He looks—hollow. Starved. Big splotchy dark under his eyes like he hasn't slept, all the time they've been apart. John sighs. "How was yours?"

"Dead ghoul," Dean says. He lifts a shoulder. After a beat too long, he says, "It got a few people."

"Yeah," John says, and holds out his hand, and Dean comes to him in two quick steps, and gets folded against his chest. "Yeah, I lost some too."

Dean doesn't say anything to that. He's too big to hold like this, really. Just an inch shorter than John, and his shoulders all filled out. Well, John holds him anyway, with an arm around his shoulders and the other at his hip, and Dean holds onto his coat, buries his face into John's throat. Quivering in his skin, like a hunted thing.

John disengages after—too long, probably. Indulging them both. There is pizza, a few slices left over in the box, and he gets those down and then gets into the shower, Dean sitting on the sink, telling him the details of the hunt. John has to ask questions to drag it out of him, like he usually doesn't—what alias did you use, and which cops did you talk to—and the responses are slow, Dean's attention somewhere else. When John's drying off Dean disappears, and reappears with a beer, and John drinks it while Dean reapplies the bandage on his arm, cleaning up the places where the cut seeped. His fingers are steady but his eyes aren't, jumping all over. He's got a fat lip, like something punched him, and he keeps worrying it with his teeth, everything in him just—unquiet. John left him alone too long.

"How's your money situation?" John says, and Dean says, "Good, I've got two hundred and a new card," and John says, "How's supply," and Dean says, "Low on silver but there's a pawn shop in town, figure I can make some more bullets soon." All fine, and correct, but Dean's picking at the loose threads on his shirt sleeve, fraying the plaid into ruin, and he's pale and shaky and raw, and John—they can't afford this. They have work to do, and people to save, and they can't just—hole up together, and shelter through the winter like a pair of wounded, lonely bears.

He finishes his beer, leaves the empty on the sink. Dean's looking into the corner of the room, at nothing. "Dean," he says.

"Can we—" Dean cuts himself off, bites his lip where it must hurt. His eyes close briefly and then he looks at John, side-along and then turning his head and lifting his chin, being a man. "Can you just—would you fuck me."

The air goes out of John.

Dean swallows. "I can't sleep," he says, "and I—god, Dad, I've been freaking out, here—"

John gets Dean's neck in his hand, drags him close, cuts him off. Dean comes easy, his body soft even if the words aren't, and John's—lord, they don't—talk, like that, they hardly even acknowledge this, what's between them. "That what you want?" he says, and Dean nods, his shoulders low, his eyes a car-wreck, and John doesn't have a way to arm himself, here. Not when it's been these months, the two of them apart more than they've been together, and when he thought it himself, alone in a motel in Wisconsin, wishing—wanting. He wants it, as much as Dean does.

He kisses Dean soft, no matter that the boy's spoiling for it. He gets a gentle shock of reaction, Dean's hands splayed against his bare chest, holding his shoulders. Holding on. He walks them both toward the bed and Dean hitches air, stumbles. Surprised, when he's the one who asked for it. There's no sense in messing around—John's not going anywhere tomorrow, or the next day if he can help it, and there'll be time, later, if they want to spend the time. Dean fumbles out of his plaid shirt while John's undoing his jeans, and then it's socks and boxers and tee, and then—naked, except for the amulet around his neck, his bracelets, the ring on his finger that John kisses briefly before he kisses Dean's palm, and then his wrist, and then Dean grips his hair and tugs him, asking, so John lifts up and kisses him on the mouth again, taking Dean's open sigh of relief right to the chest, to the nuts, his body waking up at the familiarity of it.

It's better now than it was when Dean was younger. When he was too young, really. That first time—John doesn't think about that first time. Now, Dean's more confident in it, more open. Asking for what he wants and not just taking what John gives, although he does enough of that second one, too. His boy, John thinks, raw inside, and as he's thinking it in this incoherent way Dean makes it true—spreading his legs, getting John between them. His hands in John's hair, kissing him back, his mouth soft and willing, and John's ready for him, his dick bumping over Dean's spread thigh, sliding against his balls and back, behind. Dean breathes against him, their noses brushing. Weirdly intimate, considering. Dean's hand disappears, reappears—a bottle, handed over—and John dips his head against Dean's throat, fumbles one-handed. Two inside, making Dean's hips flinch; a slow, dragging rub, making him make that soft helpless noise, the one John's never heard from another person. He could play, here, and has, for long minutes of just getting noises out of him, watching him flex and moan and leak.

"Dad," Dean whispers, and John squeezes his eyes shut, takes his fingers out. Dean stretches under him, arches, and John bulls in slow but unrelenting, feeling the muscle bloom wetly around him, that shock of tightness and then vague, soft heat, unlike any woman, this—unreal, unbelievable thing. Dean makes a little pained sound. His knees cringe up higher, and John shoves an arm under his shoulders, grips his hip. Tips him to a better angle and fucks in again, slower, and feels Dean's whole body ripple in reaction and then go—soft, totally open. He wraps an arm around John's neck, puts hot damp fingers against his chest. He sighs again, his lips against John's jaw, and John fucks him that way—wrapped up tight together, slow, hardly any force behind it—just rocking, inside, in the cradle Dean's body makes for him, dragging friction and Dean's mouth softly moaning, groaning, wanting him. Wanting his dad to make it better.

Dean comes first. He's twenty-two, of course he does. He ripples around John, his body arching, wet heat between their pressed-together stomachs, and his hands slide, holding John closer, his thighs closing around John's hips to keep him deep. "God," Dean says, "fuck—fuck—fuck me, come on, fuck me—" and John's gut flips but he gets up on one hand, shoves in, and Dean slides on the mattress but grips John harder, his head tipped back and his mouth open, and John nails him, chasing, watching the wet part of his lips and his flushed freckled cheeks and his eyes half-open, staring unseeing at the ceiling or past it, and he thinks, good god, his boy, his beautiful, crazy, loyal boy—

He sags, after. Things go dark. He blinks to find Dean still holding him, wrapped around with his arm around John's shoulders and his leg twined over John's hip, and soft careful fingers stroking his collarbone, feeling that spot where it broke bad, and healed lumpy. He lifts his head and Dean's not smiling, but he's looking John in the eye the way he's started to, now, and John sees the way his lips part and his expression goes inward when John pulls out, but he doesn't let John go.

"Ought to clean up," John says. Quietly. Lately he wants to treat Dean—quietly.

Dean doesn't answer. He doesn't jump quite as fast, the last few months. Another thing John shouldn't really allow, and doesn't quite know how to fix.

He tips them on the bed, a little, so at least his weight isn't crushing Dean into the mattress. He strokes Dean's cheekbone with one thumb. He says, "Think you'll sleep?" and Dean closes his eyes and tips his face into the touch, and John sees for the first time, when his head turns toward the lamplight, that there's a rim of wet, there in his eyelashes, and there's a wet track running down from his eye. When? John doesn't know, and he cups Dean's jaw, uneasy. If this is—if it was him—

"You'll stay, right?" Dean says, scratchy-voiced, and John says, "Yeah, I will," and Dean arches a little, his soft dick pressing against John's stomach, his thigh sliding where it's still caught over John's hip, and he says, "Yeah, I'll sleep," but he doesn't sound happy about it.

John drags his hand down Dean's back, firm. "Tell me," he says.

Not that he has room to make demands, when Dean's sloppy with him. Still, he's—the dad, here, and Dean's his boy, and he does what he's told. He gets a swallow, and Dean's fingers touching the center of his chest very lightly, pulling at the chest hair Dean still can't grow, and a soft, mumbled confession: "I miss him. Little shit. I miss him, all the time."

John closes his eyes. His instinct is to pull back but Dean's clinging to him, wrapped around him, and he can't move more than an inch. "I know," he says, because—god, of course he does.

Dean's whole life is this family. He's faithful to the memory of his mother, loyal to his fuck-up of a father, and to his little brother—when John was very, very drunk, in a cabin in Utah where half the windows were broken and Dean was miserable out on the front step, his world broken, John thought with weird clarity that one day, Dean was going to make a choice. A choice, where devotion would be pulled two directions, and John didn't know, then, how Dean would choose. He doesn't know now. He cups Dean's ass and pulls him close, a full body hug, and kisses the top of Dean's head, gently. He can guess.

"Will you," Dean says, and stops. John pulls back and looks at him, and Dean's hands are both on his chest now, his head ducked. "Dad. I know you're—you're mad—but maybe we can—check on him. Sometime. I just. He's all by himself, and I—"

"I know," John says, again. It comes out harder than he means. Dean quiets instantly and bites his sore lip. John runs his thumb over his chin, pulling at his mouth so that he lets go, and Dean glances up at him, eyes hurt and tired. "I'll take care of it, Dean," he says, and Dean closes his eyes, relief sinking into him. He turns his face against the pillow and breathes out, slow, and John kisses his temple and rolls away, getting off the bed.

"Dad," Dean says, small, and John shushes him.

"I'm just cleaning up," he says. "I'll come back. I'm right here, buddy."

Dean subsides, curling around the pillow. John looks at him, alone in the big bed, and thinks to the week ahead. He's here, for now. Soon, he won't be, and Dean will have to be ready for that. Not yet, though. John's not going to put him through two losses. Not yet.

#fffr #dean/john #the full house of wincest #stanford era #my writing

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timeagainreviews · 3 years

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My Series 10 Rewatch: Knock Knock

Hello, my fantastic friends! I am sorry I have been so quiet. I got coronavirus in February and it really wiped out my energy. I am finally starting to bounce back and feel like leaving the house once more. This beautiful Scottish spring we’re having has definitely helped. I also lost my grandpa this week, so I've been all over the place, emotionally. Obviously, such a big pause in the middle of a series 10 rewatch is disruptive, so I would rather just dive back in if it's all the same. When last we were gathered, I was talking about "Thin Ice." Since then, the ice has thawed and I am now up to series 10 episode four- "Knock Knock," by one-time Doctor Who writer Mike Bartlett.

An aspect of Doctor Who which I love about Steven Moffat’s era is that the Doctor and his companions didn’t spend every waking moment of their lives together. Unlike companions of the past, who basically left behind their family lives to galavant across time and space, the companions of the Moffat era had home lives. Not only did this make for some humorous moments, such as the Doctor landing his TARDIS in Clara’s bedroom on date night, it also set up the characters for something of an actual life. "Knock Knock," uses this separation of worlds to establish one of its central themes- can you have a normal life with the Doctor?

Being a poor student in London, Bill is forced to look for a flat with a group of people she only sort of knows. This is your typical group of students, eclectic and young. The biggest commonality they have is they can’t afford a place on their own. One of the ways in which this makes the episode suffer is that none of them has much chemistry together. However, it does enable Bartlett to explore deeper concepts, such as the fear of meeting new people. Our characters are forced to deal with a deadly situation with people who are basically strangers.

The other commonality they have is Bill’s mate, Shireen. I got momentarily excited the first time I heard her name, but only because I thought it was going to be Rose’s best mate Shareen. Also, it would mean that Rose and Shareen had like a 10 year age difference, which would be weird. Shireen is a bubbly sort that seems gung-ho about everyone getting on. This doesn’t stop 90% of their interactions from being a total cringefest. Not one of these characters is particularly likeable. Pavel, the musician of the group, and the one character with maybe a bit of culture becomes a wall pretty early on, so it’s a bland time from there on out. But that’s getting a bit ahead of ourselves.

After a montage of disappointing flats ("Oh my god, the toilet is is what room?") the gang stands defeated. But like a beacon of light, comes a glimmer of hope in the form of John, a man who clearly prowls the streets for groups of youths. The gang is willing to overlook the obvious stranger danger about John because he has something they need- a giant house at a reasonable price. It’s another one of those deeper concepts being explored here that I think Doctor Who does so well. The show operates well when it preys upon basic fears. In this case, it’s the fear of the creepy landlord. The fear that your home life may be dictated by a creepy man who carries a tuning fork and forbids you to enter certain parts of the house like it’s Beauty and the Beast.

Arriving as if to say "No, Bill, you can’t have a normal life," is the Doctor. After using his TARDIS to move her belongings, Bill is quick to send him off. She even foregoes the traditional six-pack of beer and pizza, the universal payment for friends helping one move house. Of course, the moment the Doctor enters the derelict abode, his Time Lord senses are pinging. The Doctor isn't just an embarrassing "grandfather," type, but also a threat to any semblance of a normal life Bill can hope to have. As I said, this is familiar territory in the Moffat era. A funny side effect of the Doctor's attempts at allowing his companions to live normal lives is it only adds to the sharp contrast between both existences. Perhaps this is immersion therapy on the Doctor's behalf. Letting his friend remember what the world is actually like so as to not disassociate her from her own time and place. Or perhaps it is the Doctor softening the blow of eventually losing his friend.

The Doctor leaves long enough for two things to happen. Firstly, Pavel is listening to some music and suddenly is eaten by the house. Nobody seems to notice. Secondly, the new housemates have a bit of a games night for their first night at 11 Cardinal Road. There's no cellphone reception and the house is nowhere near up to code. I applaud them for trying to build up these characters, but it never really gels. Their merriment is cut short after hearing a noise in the kitchen. Scooby-Doo style, Bill leads them to the pantry where she finds the Doctor never actually left. They decide to head to bed, but the Doctor decides he's going to stay up with Felicity and Harry and listen to music. He also reminds Bill to maybe check on Pavel who has not been seen all day.

Now back in the sitting room, the gang is surprised to find John present. He addresses their problems with the amenities and waxes strange about having a daughter to look after. The Doctor asks John who the Prime Minister is, but he is unable to answer. Before they can ask more questions, John disappears down the hallway, but not before sounding his tuning fork against the wood. On her way to bed, Bill has the most cringe conversation with her new housemate, Paul. Paul fancies Bill. Bill fancies girls. I get that they may have wanted a scene where Bill flat out says to the audience that she's gay, but Paul comes off as super creepy. I wouldn't have an issue with this, but I feel like we're meant to find Paul endearing. It's hard for me to place what exactly they were going for in this scene. Paul, mate, you just met her. You just moved in together. Maybe let the paint dry first.

Luckily, like a shot from the dark, the plot saves us from having to stand in the hallway of awkwardness. Paul, having gone to his room, screams. Thinking he's having a laugh, Bill and Shireen go knocking on his door, only to find the return knock sounding across the hallway wall. The house begins to creak and shudder while doors slam shut. It's like something from a haunted house movie. In many ways, it follows a familiar trope from Doctor Who. The house haunted by aliens. We've seen it in "Ghost Light," "Hide," or even Edward Grove from "The Chimes of Midnight." Though I would argue that here, there is less grist for the mill. "Knock Knock," is a more stripped back, simple story. And in that way, I find it begins to lose me as the mystery unravels.

As the housemates run through the house, trying to escape whatever is happening, they find Pavel in a state of flux. Something about the music on his record player skipping has kept him from being completely absorbed by the house. I will say, this is a great bit of body horror on the makeup department's behalf. Everything about Pavel looks like a guy getting eaten by a wall. As it turns out, the tuning fork and the music have more to do with what's going on as the Doctor discovers the house infested with alien lice known as "Dryads." Using his sonic screwdriver, the Doctor is momentarily able to draw the bugs out from the grain of the wood. The Dryad is not your common woodlouse, as it appears to move through wood like water. Even in my second viewing, I found myself wondering if this is kind of cool or kind of dumb. I vacillate between the two.

In many ways, this is both Doctor Who's greatest strength and its greatest weakness. The surreal nature of a time-travelling police box affords us things like sentient planets, talking chair frogs, and killer mannequins. On the other hand, it gives us farting aliens, gamma radiation in the form of lightning, and the Doctor screaming until a window smashes. I remember reading an Eighth Doctor book where horse people read books on their planet by licking them and tasting the story. Sometimes, Doctor Who is bloody brilliant, and other times, it's bloody embarrassing. But that's partly why I love it. This kind of freedom gives it freshness. One week we get a priest buzzing like a wasp as he talks, the next we get River Song and the Vashta Nerada.

Now, I'm not saying "Knock Knock," is bad, but it is a little dumb. I've already complained about the dopey kids nobody cares about, and the silly aliens that aren't that scary, but the end of this episode is where it really kind of evens itself out. As I said, I vacillate between this being a good and a bad story. We learn that the reason John doesn't want anyone up inside the tower of the house has nothing to do with safety, and everything to do with a dark secret. After discovering the unclaimed belongings of previous occupants over the span of decades, the housemates learn that they are just the latest in a long line of people being fed to the house.

I found the motivation of the Dryads a little hard to understand. It seems weird to me that a woodlouse would want to eat people, but here we are. As it turns out, John has found a way to keep his "daughter," Eliza, alive using the Dryads. After noticing they respond to sonic vibrations, John has been using the tuning fork the make them do his bidding. It's a simple arrangement- he feeds students to the Dryads, the Dryads keep Eliza alive as a wooden woman, hidden away in the tower like some forgotten ghost. Once again, the makeup department has done its job. You genuinely believe Eliza is a woman made from wood. I especially like how they used papery twine for her hair.

They do a good job giving reasons why the housemates can't call for help. No wifi, no reception. But it is hard to imagine that over the course of decades, nobody came looking at this giant house for clues of their missing loved ones. Maybe they did and the house ate them as well. All I know is that it's mighty convenient that not one prospective tenant said to their mum or dad "Hey, I'm moving into a giant house at 11 Cardinal Road." Hell, even the Doctor helped move Bill in. What was John's big plan for when the Doctor came around looking for his "granddaughter?"

By this point, several of the housemates have been eaten by the house. Honestly, I could care less about which ones. I think Paul got his, and of course poor wooden Pavel. Or would that be wooden panel? I can't stress how little I care about these characters. Am I cold? I don't think so. We never see them on the show again. They don't matter in the slightest. With the Dryads closing in, the Doctor and Bill have to think quick. Which is when they realise that the timelines don't match up. If John were Eliza's actual father, he would be long dead. Seeing as he is not also made of wood, they deduce that he is in fact not Eliza's father, but her son. Unable to say goodbye to his ailing mother, John has been preserving her. Eliza has been through so much trauma that she has completely forgotten this fact. It's all rather depressing if I'm honest.

Depressing is okay though. What's Doctor Who without the occasion trudge through misery? Of course, it's not all doom and gloom, as Eliza restores all of the young people, once again leaving me to question why they were eaten in the first place. Were they transmuted into energy and simply recombined? It's the best explanation we're going to get, which is fine. David Suchet gives a powerful performance as he begs his mother not to end their lives. His performance is, by far, one of the strongest elements of this episode. Eliza and John are both overtaken by the Dryads, who are off presumably forever. I suppose the threat of Dryads is no longer looming now that their puppet master is no longer pulling their strings.

All in all, I find myself without much to say about this episode. It's not bad, but it's not a banger either. Even writing this review has been a bit of a slog. I find myself hard-pressed to really have any strong feelings one way or the other, and sometimes, that's just how it is. I will say it is the brownest episode of Doctor Who I’ve seen since the ‘70s. The BBC really knew how to dull down colour back then. Sigh... The best I can say about "Knock Knock," is that it's fine, really. There's nothing really wrong with it other than being kind of dull. I think if they'd have tried harder to make the characters more relatable it could have helped. Not every villain needs to be the new Daleks or Weeping Angels. Unlike some of the other episodes in my series ten rewatch, my opinion on this episode has changed very little. I would be as equally surprised to hear someone say this episode was terrible as I would be to hear it's their favourite. This is the kind of Doctor Who you can have on in the background.

Much like we followed the lacklustre "The Unicorn and the Wasp," with the transcendent "Silence in the Library," I am very excited for the next episode in my rewatch- "Oxygen." Another anti-capitalist romp in the vein of "Smile," is just what I need right now. Now that I am back and feeling up to writing again, you should expect to see a bit more output. I wanted to cover the BBC's Youtube Dalek series, of which I have not watched a single frame. I've been putting it off because I wanted to talk about it on here. I have a few non-review articles in mind, but I don't like to promise too much. What I am saying is that you can expect more, soon! Take care!

#doctor who #series 10 #knock knock #David Suchet #bill potts #Pearl Mackie #Twelfth Doctor #Peter Capaldi #dryads #wood #bbc #tardis #rewatch #Time and Time Again

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