#POWER WIVES COLLAB !!!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago

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seven

Rich and powerful men can marry seven different women in a wild attempt to produce the perfect heir. Todoroki Enji is one of these powerful men, and you’re his seventh bride.

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pairing: todoroki enji (endeavor) x fem!reader

warnings: edo period!endeavor (king henry viii inspo), forced marriage, alcohol consumption, 18+, smut, non-con, dub-con, size difference, breeding kink, rough-sex, pain, degradation, & mind break

word count: 5,750

a/n: fuck that family who started the fire in socal. my campus is literally raining ashes up in oregon. im so tired. two exams monday. im going to be going on meds for anxiety and adhd soon, so thats new. uh,,, this is like LOL its a bit bad,,, but I really, really lust over asshole enji who only wants to breed bitches and thats it. this is for the bnharem fantasy au collab, i wan’t that creative sorry see ya later skaters.

PLEASE CAREFULLY READ THE WARNINGS. PLEASE CAREFULLY READ THE WARNINGS. PLEASE CAREFULLY READ THE WARNINGS.

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One.

Fate: Spared.

Two.

Fate: Executed.

Three.

Fate: Died during childbirth.

Four.

Fate: Spared.

Five.

Fate: Executed.

Six.

Fate: Executed.

Seven.

Fate: Unknown.

Silks and expensive cloth held a scent that was irreplicable.

The smooth smell of the layers upon layers of fabric wrapped around your body did nothing to quench the building layer of ice in your stomach.

You were scared.

Rightfully so.

Six women came before you, and if you wanted to live, you would have to do better than them.

Marrying the Todoroki Clan head was something that most women could only dream of accomplishing in this day and age. The Todoroki’s, after all, are strong, rich, powerful, undefeated. They held the real power in this age, more influential and notable than the emperor that repeatedly begged the family for support, be it in power, strength, or money.

But, it was also known knowledge that the man who sat at the head of the clan, who held the power of the Todoroki name and future, was a man not to be trifled with.

Todoroki Enji was an endeavor of a man.

There had always been whispers about the head of the family, how he stood eight feet tall, and how his body was not lean like most warriors, but thick and savagely sturdy. His hair was red, blessed by the sun some claimed, or cursed by the devil others alleged. His temper and barbaric nature on the battlefield were, of course, rumored by the people on your lands, who had been indebted by the Todoroki Clan because of their protection and profits.

Todoroki Enji was not a man to be trifled with.

Especially not if the rumors were true.

He was painted as a demon by everyone. Still, Enji was no demon, he was human, and if he was to allow the Todoroki Clan's legacy to continue, he needed an heir… but since he was human, he was aging.

Six women.

You knew that it was six women because you had been alive to experience five of them.

You remember the newly married couple being paraded through the streets.

Todoroki Enji remained hidden within his vehicle's confines while his new wife, doe-eyed, smiling, effervescent, would greet the gathered crowds. You often wondered what they thought when you would conjure in respect for the man who ensured your childhood and adolescence were not corrupted by thieves and horror.

You wondered what she thought when promising the village elders that she would produce a strong, male heir. You raised an eyebrow at the thought that maybe, just maybe they believed that they would be different -- be able to birth a strong, capable male heir.

Six wives.

Twenty children.

Two weak, sickly boys.

A whole clan of girls.

Were they idiotic, blind, or batshit insane to ever believe that they would be different?

You undoubtedly didn’t know.

Three of the six had been executed.

Three of six had been proud to state they would produce a strong male Todoroki heir, noting that his two sons -- Touya and Natsuo -- would be removed from the family as soon as their strong son was born.

One of those three birthed a weak, sickly baby boy. She passed in childbirth and took him with her one day after.

Another of those three birthed four girls, two sets of twins because, of course, they were given two chances. She was executed on treason.

The final of those three had simply pissed him off; rumor had it. Her pussy was too tight, unwilling to sheath the thick massive cock that belonged to him… no point in breaking something that wouldn’t bend when there was more pussy out there (you remember she had been ugly too).

But what you didn’t expect was for his clan members to come through your village's streets with an announcement in hand.

Of the six women before you, three had held significant political power -- the three that survived.

Of the remaining three, there was a poet, the other a woman soldier of his, and the last being a clan member.

You had never known what the decision process was, not even a little bit, so when men dressed in dark robes with the Todoroki sigil and katana’s strapped to their sides infiltrated your village, you were on edge.

“All women who are fertile and beautiful, line up, and no, we don’t care if you’re married,” was the short, almost taunting order, and you had never felt sicker.

You were among the seventy females in your village that matched the requirement they demanded.

Your sight was almost glued to the floor as they walked through you all, your fists grabbing your light blue kimono as the men groped the women in line, teasing the breasts of the pregnant women, rutting their poorly concealed cocks through the valley of asses, shoving between some girls thighs with loopy, proud smiles on their faces, beating any man who attempted to protect any one of their honors.

But you were towards the end of the line, standing where they decided to save for last, and you were helpless to it all. You watched knowing that of the sixty-something women ahead of you, none of them remained.

The whimpers, cries, and whines grew louder by your ear, your spine rigid and sore with its tightness as the girl beside you dropped to the floor in her fear. You couldn’t bother looking at her as the parting of their robes seemed to be akin to gunpowder going off in your ears. The horrified squeal on her tongue being silenced when a cock slammed through her lips, the tears pouring down her face useless, if anything, only encouraging their roughhousing.

Your lip curled at the sound of her pathetic whining, the incessant need of her to tell them that she was not okay with this was nails on an iron plate. It annoyed you, it pissed you off.

“Look at this one,” the snickering laughter of a man breathed by your ear, instantly stilling and freezing the anger that was once radiating like fire from your chest. “She doesn’t look ashamed… she looks like she’s jealous. Maybe these common bitches do have someone good enough for Boss.”

Spluttering gasps and hiccuping cries came from the ground, and you couldn’t even bother glancing at the woman you had known all your life laying on the floor, kimono ripped open, and white, sticky cum dripping from her mouth.

“Well, there’s nothing like taking her out for a test run,” came a sleazy smile, and when two hands gripped at your clothed breasts, you didn’t so much as raise a brow at their perverted actions.

You had won in the end against them. Each perverted, twisted intention they placed against you, dirt crusted fingernails digging into your arms, purpling, throbbing cocks pressed into your backside… it hadn’t mattered.

You didn’t budge.

You didn’t cry.

You didn’t make a noise.

A simple smirk remaining on their faces at your inevitable victory against the other women in your village -- against the crying, cum stuffed women who stared at your victorious and stubborn form without a clue on how you managed.

And where did that land you?

In a room with only one window too high up for an average person to reach, white silks and fabrics adorning your body, and ceremonial ornaments in your hair.

Six women came before you, but today, you would become the seventh.

With you, there would be seven women to have wed Todoroki Enji, but you weren’t scared because you feared the fate of the six before you. No, you were much better than them; you already knew that for a fact.

The anxiety that coursed through your veins created that ice pit in your stomach came from one place and one place only.

Your cunt already sobbed at the thought of even attempting at taking his thick, veiny cock you knew was the size of your thigh later tonight.

A virgin like you had no chance of survival.

The doors to your room soon slammed open, and your back stiffened at the sight of a familiar face of an escort you had. His eyes didn’t meet yours; they were focused at the wall, his face tense and tight.

“It’s best we leave now, y/l/n, Todoroki-sama doesn’t like waiting.”

The weight of the white silk on your body felt like a brick when you stood up from your position, and you wondered if the sweat from your pits and palms would damage the kimono -- if it was noticeable. But you had a duty, and as number seven, you had no motive to be executed before even getting the chance to prove yourself.

You knew how wishes worked; the secret was in being silent about your desire… never reveal what your wish was, or the world wouldn’t grant it.

Or at least, that’s what you told yourself every time you heard the all too familiar words of: “I’ll produce a fine Todoroki heir,” through the lips of the dead and the divorced. They had spoken it to the universe, acknowledged what they needed, and the cruel world failed them each and every time.

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts, so consumed by the idea of what would happen tonight, you hardly realized that with the heaving puffing breathes you took to keep up with the man’s ridiculous strides, that you had made it to the shrine that you had been brought to wed.

But you couldn’t even take in the beauty of the shrine to your left because you were more interested in who was standing in the pathway towards the shrine.

Todoroki Enji.

He stood on the stone-paved path, his bulky, beefy arms folded across his chest, the fabric of his kimono taut and tight against his flexed muscle, and a sour frown on his face. It was as the rumors had spoken, you realized when you stopped mere strides away from your future husband, he was a man that looked both godly and cursed.

Bright red hair glistened like copper pans under the sunlight, waving and flickering like a raging fire with every small burst of wind. He stood at almost eight feet high, maybe eight feet, you had no idea. All you knew is that as your feet stumbled when getting near to this man, you were dwarfed, feeling like a child next to their father as you gazed up at his unmoving, scarred face. His eyes didn’t look down at you, but even you could see the clear, sharp blue in them, and for the first time, you questioned reality.

Was this man truly human? Was he genuinely Japanese?

Seeing him before you made your knees buckle in fear, arousal, and anticipation.

You wanted to see what had made the sixth scream to stop.

You wanted to see just what he was hiding behind the ridiculously tight fitted kimono, but your thoughts were yanked away when his hand -- no doubt bigger than your head -- pressed to space between your shoulder blades and pushed you.

“We’re on a tight schedule,” he merely growled, his eyes burning at something a million miles away, and with a small, pitiful whimper, you allowed him to lead the way.

The wedding ceremony was… odd, to say the least.

While you had never been married, you had attended a few weddings within your lifetime already, and never once had it felt so disturbing dead and raw as it had today. This Shinto ceremony, typically doused with symbolism and motifs for the greatest possible outcome for the union between you and Todoroki Enji, was stripped from the shrine walls, leaving the walls barren and cold as both he and the priest proceeded through the ceremony at breakneck speed.

It wasn’t something Enji wanted; you realized that clearly the moment he refused to meet your gaze; his blue eyes remaining on the priest.

Everything the both of you performed together was done haphazardly, the lack of symbols you had always wished to see in your wedding ceremony forgotten, undoubtedly seen as a farce by a man like Todoroki Enji, but still, your heart ached.

You hadn’t noticed when the ceremony had ended; Enji never once allowing you to move, or do anything for that matter, by yourself. There was no use in fighting against a man who’s entire hand fit around your forearm, his thumb even resting against his fingernail -- oh yes, this man was huge.

There was no telling when he paraded you through the streets of his territory, allowing you to numbly speak to the village elders, to allow your parents to press their sweaty palms to your cheeks because god, please, please survive this, their touch practically sobbed. You smiled at them, eyes numb with the reality of what this was going to be for you, but the cheerful tone on your tongue remained optimistic and bright with every passing word.

The scornful thoughts of the sixth woman being too weak to handle Enji had dissipated, and you wondered just what the other five did to survive what you knew was a massive fucking cock hidden beneath the shrowds of his black kimono.

You would survive, you would survive, you would survive.

But far before you were ready to, you arrived back at the Todoroki front, the wooden estate standing sturdy and strong, the air of power and aura almost tangible. The samurai and clansmen who had undoubtedly awaited for you and your now-husband (that was still odd to think about) to return. Pairs of warm, weathered hands helped you from the carriage, and without so much of a whisper of thanks, they escorted you away, heads bowed at the mercy of their leader.

Once more, you were abandoned in your room.

The window no longer allowed the streaming setting sunlight in, your room was in the eastern part of the estate, and with the nighttime coming, the setting sun was merely a memory to you.

And in that room, the tiny, unspacious room that seemed much more for a prisoner than the seventh wife of Todoroki Enji, you tried not to cry.

The door slamming open hours after you had fallen asleep had taken you by surprise.

Enji had left you to your own entertainment, and long after you were served dinner, and informed that no, Todoroki-sama would not be visiting you right now because he was busy, you had sat on the bed in your silks and robes, numbly looking at the star-filled sky. Sleep was the only thing you could do, and with the last servant visit being past midnight, you took to sleep.

Except that you forgot a sparing, important detail.

This was Todoroki Enji’s world, and you were merely his legal fuckhole.

The heavy footsteps of Enji entering the room echoed in your ear, and the door closed behind him, solidifying the end of the beginning of what you once knew.

“Seven,” he growled into the night, and your spine snapped straight.

He loomed above you, the tatami mat suddenly feeling like a brick wall against your side, and you swallowed pathetically at the way his deep, raspy voice sent shivers down your spine.

This had been the first time you had heard him speak, all other forms of communication between him and the priest and he and his clan members had been nonverbal, solely told through those piercing blue eyes that only let you dream of what he sounded like -- of what he was demanding. But you lay confused, your eyebrows scrunched at just why he had called out the number seven?

Seven what?

You twisted where you lay, your eyes meeting his own, and despite the lack of light in the room, you could see the cold, distant glint in his eyes.

“Oh good,” he mocked, his voice low and dangerous, eyes squinted in his apparent lack of approval. “You can hear.”

“S-Seven what?” you stammer, your elbow pressing into the mat, pushing you up so that you could look at your husband, uncertainty and discomfort scorching every nerve in your body.

You didn’t know what to do.

Then, it hit you. The bitter, numbing smell of alcohol coated in a fine layer around his skin, the small puffs of angry air from his mouth letting you know that your husband was inebriated, and your throat clenched when he began to dismantle his kimono.

“T-This isn’t a good idea!” you stammer, the white silk robes you were still dressed in because they refused to allow you a set of sleeping clothes because the marriage needed to be consummated, felt stiff and not protective enough. “You won’t produce a proper heir if you’re intoxicated.”

Enji raised an eyebrow at you, and your thudding heart failed to cease as his robes hit the floor with an unceremonious thud.

Whiskey dick wasn’t something foreign to you; the countless men you had sucked off in your time, the numerous sex stories you had been shared with always had some instance of a man getting drunk and being able to get their cock hard, but this…?

If this was Enji’s whiskey dick, you weren’t sure what to expect of his sober cock.

His cock was already hard, the veins in his cock large, plentiful, and bulging in many areas. It was thick, without a doubt thick enough where it would take both your hands to circle around his cock, and it was long, the swollen weeping tip leaking against his abdomen. His cock was magnificent yet deadly, and your pussy spasmed in fear of having that monster all twelve plus inches shoved into your virgin cunt.

“The fuck are you doing, seven?” Enji snarled, his powerful naked legs moving toward you, his feet pressing into the mat, and his hand reaching out to you. “I didn’t marry you for you to just stare at my fucking cock like some piss-shit baby.”

There was no time to panic, protest, or even prepare yourself for the sudden sharp, dull ache in your jaw when he pressed his monster cock past your chapped, chewed lips.

Immediately, it was overwhelming.

The engorging cock had barely passed your lips, but you were already gagging against the unwelcomed size, the horrid ache sending spilling tears down your cheeks, doing nothing but annoying the man before you. His hands gripped your hair, his eyes not even bothering to look at you as he fucked your mouth.

“Stop fucking resisting,” Enji snarled, his hips coming to meet your mouth in a vicious, unpleasant snap, the head of his cock pressing down your clenched throat, and so much of his cock still remaining far from your mouth. “Take my cock like the fucking whore I know you are, seven.”

You gasp for air, but with his cock ramming further and further down your throat, the scalding heat emitting from his skin burning your throat, making you gag and choke around him in your fear. You couldn’t breathe, you realized in a panic, and your eyes widened in fear, drool and spit spilling down your chin pathetically as Enji hums contently.

“Don’t feel so scared, seven,” Enji cruelly smirked up at the ceiling, his hips lazily, sloppily, yet powerfully delivering his cock into your bulging throat. “I heard what you did to my men, how you let them fuck you however they saw fit, how you scoffed and scowled at the other pathetic weak bitches who couldn’t handle a little groping… I thought you would like this? What is it? Never had a real fucking cock before? A little whore like yourself only gotten shitty little cocks?”

Wordlessly, you begged to be shown mercy, your vision blackening as he choked out all forms of oxygen, his war weathered body unbothered by your clawing fingers on his thighs. No, you were too weak for it to hurt him.

His hands left your hair, and you collapsed back onto the bed, gasping for air, choking, and coughing for oxygen that only burned all through your system, sitting unpleasantly in your lungs while tears and saliva mixed on your throat.

“Where the fuck are do you think you’re going, seven?” Enji barked, his body suddenly looming over yours, and you felt trapped, unable to move as the mountain of a man trapped you between his sturdy arms and legs. His cock, warm and sticky with your spit and his precum, sat heavily on your stomach, the size difference between the two of you even more pronounced when the tip of his cock rested at the bottom of your ribcage. “All you did was lube up my cock for your stupid, tight pussy. Don’t think I was satisfied with that childish blowjob -- next time, if you want to cry, make sure it’s loud enough that I feel it against my cock.”

You pathetically moan at his words, the tears still falling from your eyes because your throat and jaw hurt. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

“Please,” you gasped as his cinder hot hands pressed to your breasts against your kimono, he quickly enveloped your tender flesh in his hands despite the fabric. “Please, no more.”

“I don’t remember this marriage being about you,” he mocked, and with no more of a glinting snarl of his mouth, he tore the kimono straight off your body. The horrified scream that left your lips was silenced by the echoing slap across your face.

Pain blistered at the side of your face, and the resulting tears couldn’t be felt against your numbed skin as Enji continued his conquest, his fingers pulling and ripping any and all fabric pressed against your body.

“Get away!” you weakly whimpered, body trembling and twisting as you attempted to escape the man looming above you, finally ridding you of all dresses, hands pressing to the back of your thighs to push you into a position that he liked. “Leave me alone, leave me alone…”

There was no fire in your words, nothing but the aching fear and undeniable terror.

But the words did nothing to Enji, who continued to move you so that your tight, virgin cunt lined up with his throbbing, red cockhead. Even like this, your face was pressed into his chest. His body unworldly larger than yours, incredibly goliath compared to you.

“You know, seven, if you keep trying to escape me and you keep trying to save yourself, then why are you so fucking wet with everything I’ve done?” he growls down at you, his piercing blue eyes staring straight through you, the tears falling down your face doing nothing but encouraging him because he was right… your cunt, just like his cock, was wet, dripping with the undeniable pleasure of this all. There was a fire, a shameful fire, in your pussy, throbbing in time with the stinging pulse in your face that begged for Enji’s cock despite it all. “You fucking tiny little slut… I can feel just how my actions -- how my words -- affect you, getting you off like a bitch in heat! Your efforts to hide it are pathetic, fucking useless.”

Pain.

If you thought you knew what pain was before right now, you had to be wrong.

Enji’s girth was overwhelming, nearly splitting your shuddering tight walls while he buried his cock entirely within you. Nausea builds in the back of your throat, a soundless shriek breaking past your bleeding lips, your hips bucking in their relentless attempt to adjust to the way that he was splitting your walls in two, and your face flushed in pain and lust press into his chest, the only part of him you could touch.

Fuck, fuck, “fuck!” you cried, fat and painful tears pushing past your eyes, dripping down the apples of your cheeks while Enji sighed at the feeling of your hot cunt against his cock, blood seeping out of your pussy in such a pretty way he couldn’t help but smile.

“You’ve got a really tight cunt,” he observes, his hips slamming against you without warning, his mind only caring about him, setting off another round of painful screams while he situates within you. “Mhm, this is nice. A tight, young pussy always means a good womb, you’ll give me the heir I need… I’ll make sure to fuck you full of my cum.”

His hips then begin to thrust upward into you, the tip of his cock unable to reach the beginnings of your walls that he seemed to attempt to get to with each powerful blow. But it was his girth that had your body tensed, back arched in pain, eyes clenched in nothing but pain.

Pain.

“Hey.” SLAP. Your head snapped to the side, a burning, stinging pain on your cheek, alerting you that your eyes were closed. Your piqued breathing spluttered and so spaced between it was as if you were having some sort of asthma attack. Enji looked down at you, blue eyes burning demonly down at you (you wondered if this was the same look those who survived to see him on the battlefield claimed he had), his lips curled into an unapproving snarl while his hands pushed at the bottom of your knees. You pressed further into the tatami, the angle of penetration only furthering with your desperate screams to be gentler. “Shut the hell up, you’re annoying me with all this fucking screaming. Don’t waste my time.”

You whimper loudly, the feeling of his forcibly moving hips not becoming any easier on you, no longer a wave of intensive horrifying pain, but still a throbbing pain than had your fingernails cutting into his skin. “You have to be gentler! Be gentler, please be gentler! You’re so much bigger than me!!! My pussy can’t… my pussy can’t handle this!”

The fabric of the kimono under your body seared with heat when Enji shoved you further onto the mat, your legs twitching almost pathetically around his waist while your sight nearly blackened with his next action. He slammed your knees into the mat, increasing the angle of his penetration by a tenfold, sending you into another round of howling pain and pleasure as his cock slammed into your cervix -- bruising and scalding your puffy, sensitive walls with every powerful thrust. With his drilling hips and snarling speed, your screams and shouts of pain and pleasure and fear were cut off by an enormous fist around your neck, and his voice echoed from above you.

“Didn’t your dad teach you fucking whore to be quiet, seven?” Enji hisses, his thick hand clenching around your neck. Oxygen refused to flow to your lung, you went light-headed and limp, choking noises emitting from you while he continued to slam his cock in you, your clenching and splitting walls unable to keep up with the speed of the esteemed nobleman of Japan. “You’re my breeding whore, do you understand? You have no value to me except to be breed, to be full of my cum, to carry my child. You are nothing more than an object. Do. You. understand?”

Your head throbbed, the blood forcibly kept in your head, and the lack of oxygen made your world spin.

“Y-Yes!” you choke on your tongue.

“Repeat it!”

“I’m your breeding whore! Fill me with your cum, I wanna… fuck, I w-wanna carry your children! I’m your object, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours!”

“There we go,” Enji sighs contently, his broad chest pressing your thighs further into the bed, cutting off what limited oxygen you had left, and increasing the jabbing pleasure within you by a tenfold.

“Shit, such a filthy fucking cunt you have,” he groans, your walls spasming against him with his wild, obscene thrusts. He moves his hands further up your legs so that they press against your knees, your legs then wrap around his body, shaking as he makes no effort to slow in his advances, your finger drawing blood from where they raked down his back because he was burning an outline of your body into the mat. Your strangled scream goes unnoticed by Enji, a desperate plea for him to be softer.

But he wasn’t someone who cared.

You were only here to be bred, to give him a son, the strongest son the entire country of Japan -- nay, the world -- has ever seen.

Pathetically, your hips attempt to rise up to meet him, a prayer that it would ease this brutal force he was using. It was too much -- his cock easily overpowering your throbbing cunt.

The sounds of his cock slamming into your sopping pussy created loud wet noises that made you cry in embarrassment. Your face felt like it was seconds from popping out, Enji’s weight crushing you on top of the abhorrent position he was fucking you in, but he found it as an excuse to speed up. His rugged grunts are warnings in your ears as his cock finally hits your cervix with consistency that makes you wail. The stretch he gave you was boggling, and you were progressively less cognitive aware as he drilled in harder. His slams were so hard that the sound of his thighs hitting your ass let out a continuous and loud slap.

His fingers gouge into your skin, and you cry his name like a hopeful prayer as he is fueled by your appraisal, your breath hot and sticky between the valley of his chest. Your tongue pressing against his skin akin to some infant looking to suck their mothers tit.

The force in which Enji slammed his hips to meet yours. Above your ear, the growling pants that mocked you for enjoying this demeaned you for thinking you were anything more than his breeding whore sent a liquid fire that could never match the heat of a conflagration to your core. When your head smashed against the mat because you could no longer keep your head up.

“That’s fucking right,” he laughs, drool pouring past your lips with your mindless babble, your eyes fluttering closed. Pleasure drowned in pain sobs expelled from your lips, invigorating something powerful within the entire family who watches on with impatient stares at the sight of your squeezing cunt around Eniji’s cock. “Take my fucking cock, bitch, don’t fucking pass out yet, we’re far from over.”

Enji was raw power, destruction, and strength. He pistoled into your sobbing core with the intent of getting his sperm into your cunt, to get his sperm that would get him a son into you, other than that, he was uncaring, unmotivated by your pathetic whining and crying. Your thrashing and wailing do not stop Enji, nor do they lessen the pace and the force he’s settled in as the floor begins to creak with every powerful thrust.

“I needa — holy shit, r-right there! M-More, more, more, more--”

“What? Do you need to come already, seven?” Enji mocks you pushing up off you so his back is curved, and your body so small underneath him. “Do you really think I’ll let you cum before me?”

Your eyes can no longer stay open as the only noises leaving your mouth are whines and begs for more. You forcibly clench around him to stir a reaction from him, but all he does is snarl quietly as he continues his rutting force. The pounding is rhythmic. His balls bruising your ass where he hits you. The feeling of Enji’s cock entering and leaving you draws your eyes to the back of your head as you pathetically whimper his name, his thighs hitting your ass at bruising force, only adding to your pleasure.

Each powerful snap of his hips sending your back arching to the heavens, the balls of your feet digging bruisingly into his back. In and out he goes, your cunt nothing more than a cocksleeve for him, and your wanton screams and mewls taking him further and further.

Enji all but laughs into your ear, his hand moving from pressing onto the tatami mat and pushing into your opened mouth, pressing onto your tongue. “Suck my fingers like a good whore, show me that you’re not gonna disappoint me. Suck my fingers.” you sob in the thought, not because you’re fearful of disappointing the man, but because the feeling of his fingers in your mouth makes your cunt throb ludicrously, your tongue desperately wrapping around the appendages, pushing through the space of his fingers. “I’m going to fill you up so good, breeding whore. You’ll be leaking my cum for days. I’m going to make sure you carry the Todoroki gene, and I hope that it’s my son you carry.”

The words incite clenching heat in your core, your lips unable to form anything but a weak, pitiful moan because the thought of being filled to the max with Todoroki cum makes your mind spin. More, you want to milk them all dry. You want nothing more than that. With a ragged breath, a consecutive full thrust that sends his cock slamming against your cervix, Enji cums fully within you. His load is long and heavy, your belly feeling like it’s bulging when he finally emerges from your cunt. His once hard cock limping in his hands while you lay there defeated, his and your intermixed cum spilling from your pulsing cunt.

Your mouth opened, sobbing at his absence, a need for him to return despite your core's undeniable tremor and ache. He’s off your body as well, and oxygen floods your lungs in dizzying and shallow pants, your vision fuzzies out, and you stare almost brokenly at the window painted with the rising morning sun.

Your room was in the east wing, after all.

You didn’t even protest when he pressed a smooth wooden plug into your cunt to “ensure you were bred to succession.”

He would soon leave your room, stumbling out with a drunken hiccup, leaving you to lay on a once white kimono… a once white kimono drenched in cum, blood, sweat, and tears.

You wouldn’t know until two weeks later, but Todoroki Enji had succeeded in breeding you, and you would eventually lay in a birthing room with blood and sweat and tears soaking your skin as a silent baby boy was placed in your arms.

“And what will his name be?” the midwife asked, her eyes wide with joy for you and Enji.

“...Shouto.”

#endeavor x reader #todoroki enji x reader #endeavor smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha

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whitexwingedxdoves · 4 years ago

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No longer writing but here’s a catalog of my old fics ❤️

Series Severance [finished] - You found sanctuary at the Greene farm a while ago, you felt like you had won the lottery until a ghost from your past comes to haunt you

Mini Series Ghosts [finished] - (TW drug abuse mentioned) You escort your sister to her new dealers house when things take a turn for the worst. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 Paradox - part 1

Requests & One Shots. Passenger - You need to escape your thoughts and a night drive with Daryl Dixon was the best way to do so goodbye - ( TW attempted suicide) the gang couldn’t find you until Daryl finds a note on your dressing table. bonnie & clyde - Daryl was sick of you pretending to be something you weren’t in Alexandria and wanted to remind you, who he fell in love with. just let me hold you (younger reader) - After Maggie took you in from the sanctuary, life seemed to be going smoothly until you were confronted by your feelings. head over feet - Daryl finally agrees to take you on your first hunting trip after bugging him for weeks but you find something you didn’t exactly plan to find. seven wonders - You had never met someone quite like Daryl Dixon before, his outlook on life seemed bleak and you made it your job to show him not everything in life is as sad as he made it out to be. waterfall - Now he had a ring, Daryl Dixon needed the perfect way to propose to you and after many dead ends, he finally cooks up the perfect plan. wretched heart - Despite ending things with Daryl, you still can’t seem to let go of him. moonbeams - Sequel to waterfall cherry waves - You accompany Daryl on a run when things go wrong. im with you - Daryl finds you in the forest with a broken foot, when he brings you back to the prison he runs into a problem with the group accepting you. hello stranger - After a while apart you’re finally reunited with your husband, Daryl Dixon (a not so) happy ending - prompt: “All I wanted was a happy ending!” desolate - It’s the first time you’ve killed a human, you feel awful and Daryl tries to comfort you.

happy in the end - you reminisce with Daryl

Drabbles. a long day - Prompt: “please hold me, it’s been a day” stargazing - painting pictures out of stars with Daryl Dixon protector - no-one had ever protected Daryl Dixon quite like you wood and nail’s - Inspired by the song: Jesus Christ by Brand New. The Reason - Prompt “you make the end of the world worth living through” friday nights - Prompt “if this is what love is, then I don’t want it” Care - Prompt “Fine! get yourself killed see if I care!”

Collab’s Foxtails and Rabbit trails w/ @starlessea

Mini Series (requests)

no one else [finished] Now that his empire was growing, you could feel Negan slipping through your finger tips. Part 1 | Part 2

you want me [finished] Falling for your dad’s friend, you do everything in your power to make him yours, only problem being you’re far to young for him…. for now! Part 1 | Part 2

the other side [finished] After being saved, you devoted your time to becoming the best saviour you could be until Eugene lets you in on a secret. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

a love like war [finished] Despite your best efforts you just cant seem to avoid Negan (sequel to the other side) Part 1 | Part 2

free bird - Your little brother seems to fixated on getting mixed up with the local motorcycle club

Requests & One Shots. condemned - (TW talks of Non Con) You accepted Negan’s offer to become his wife to save Daryl’s life. You didn’t expect him to develop real feeling’s for you. sober hearts - here was only so much you could take, watching Negan with his wives so you try your hand in drinking and well, you know what they say – A drunk mind’s speaks a sober heart. a perfect night - it was the perfect night or at least you thought. Negan was your high school sweetheart, a love you never thought would end. this love - War is over and the saviours won but you felt like you had lost your husband in the celebration. one stormy night - (fluffy, dorky Negan request)

Maggie Rhee losing grip - the first time seeing Maggie after 6 years.

angst writing playlist | fluff writing playlist

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raibebe · 4 years ago

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Neo CreaTures

Hello and welcome to my first ever collab call to celebrate me hitting a huge follower milestone! This is dedicated to everyone who loves the supernatural – like me – and enjoys writing a little more interesting creatures than just vampires and werewolves – which of course are still lovely. Under the cut you’ll find a list of awesome creatures to turn our favorite boys into – or even the reader if that’s the route you want to go. Our main theme is it to have some fun and post a variety of different spooky or not so spooky fics throughout October to spread our love for the supernatural. To claim a spot, simply dm me @raibebe your member and creature of choice and I’ll add you to this post as long as the spot is still up for claim.

Reblogs are appreciated even if you chose to not enter the collab to reach a wider audience!

rules

As always: First come, first serve

The fic has to be about the chosen member, meaning he is supposed to be the main character, you’re of course allowed to add in as many of the others as you want

You can bend the lore/appearance of your creature of choice how you may seem fit. Just don’t start telling me dwarfs turn into wolves every full moon.

Deadline is October 31st 2021

Minimum word count is 2k. This should be doable, it’s a lot of time until October. If you choose to write it in multiple parts, just send me the part you want to have linked on the masterlist.

No timestamps/drabbles, bullet points, social media AUs or reactions. Fics. That’s it.

Open to all genres, it doesn’t have to be horror or gory but I would love to read some darker pieces that are perfect for the season

If you want to include smut in your work, you have to be of age. No exceptions.

Even though all NCT members are of age, please refrain from writing smut for Jisung, Chenle and Sungchang, since otherwise Jisung will call the police on us.

Tag your work accordingly if you have potentially triggering stuff in it. When in doubt – you should probably tag it. But you can always ask which brings me to the next point:

Joining the discord is not mandatory but I’d encourage you to because it’s a great way to get to know your fellow writers and maybe ask for advice or just to chat about our boys.

That’s also where I’ll post announcements and stuff

Please tell me if you’re changing URLs or want to step out of the collab or can’t meet the deadline, which is both fine and can be negotiated

Please reblog this post after getting accepted so we can reach a wider audience.

For further questions just dm me!

Members

Taeil - @fan-but-no-art | Angel

Johnny -

Taeyong – @ncteaxhoe | Fairy

Yuta – @sly-merlin | Naga

Kun - @moonctzeny | Succubus

Doyoung - @just-come-baek | Mermaid

Ten - @jaesqueso | Werecat

Jaehyun - @127-mile | Ghoul

Winwin -

Jungwoo - @heejinnien | Elf

Lucas - @justonedaywithmysunshine | Genie

Mark - @alreadyblondenow | Zombie

Xiaojun - @key201303 | Guardian Angel

Hendery - @soliverse | Witch

Renjun - @moondustaeil | Kitsune

Jeno - @sparklysung | Incubus

Haechan –

Jaemin - @raibebe | Demon

Yangyang - @yangyanghater | Yokai

Shotaro - @chittapornswife | Nale Ba/Nishi Dak

Sungchan - @sichengscult | Warlock

Chenle - @flowerboykun | Merman

Jisung - @armysantiny | Shapeshifter

List of creatures to choose from.

Some creatures are fairly similar but I wanted to give you as many choices as I could come up with without having to choose absolutely crazy creatures. As said before you’re free to bend the lore of the creatures, this is just a guide – mostly off of Wikipedia – to some of the lesser known creatures. Warning: Some creatures are darker and more gore-y than others. The descriptions are as ungraphic as possible.

Vampire: A living corpse that feeds on the blood of the living to survive

Werewolf: A human with the ability to shapeshift into the form of a wolf

Werecat: A human with the ability to shapeshift into the form of a feline

Angel: A pure, benevolent intermediary between humans and god, protectors and guiders for humans, servants of god

Guardian angel: Godsend protector and guider for humans

Fallen angel: Angel that has become tainted by sin and fell from heaven

Devil: Ruler of the underworld, personification of evil and temptation

Demon: Supernatural creature usually associated with evil and sin

Incubus: Male demon that gains his energy from engaging in sexual activity

Succubus: Female demon that gains her energy from engaging in sexual activity

Yokai: Spirits and monsters in Japanese folklore, ranging from mischievous and malevolent creatures believed to cause misfortune and harm to some that are considered to bring good fortune

Ghost: Soul or spirit of a dead person that can appear to the living

Poltergeist: Type of ghost responsible for physical disturbance, often bound to the places the soul died in

Warlock: Male practitioner of witchcraft

Witch: Female practitioner of witchcraft

Necromancer: Practitioner of magic involving communication with the dead

Genie/Jinn: Neither innately evil or good spirit

Shapeshifter: A human possessing the ability to physically transform their body

Ghoul: Demon-like creature associated with graveyards and consuming human flesh

Zombie: Undead revenant

Siren: Creature half bird and half woman who lures sailors by the sweetness of her song

Mermaid/Merman: Aquatic creature with an upper body in human form and the tail of a fish

Nymph: Minor nature deity, generally regarded as personifications of nature, tied to a specific place or landform

Dryad: Tree nymph

Fairy: Magical creature with human appearance, magical powers and a penchant for trickery

Elf: Beings with magical powers and supernatural beauty, ambivalent to humans, capable of either helping or hindering them

Gnome: Diminutive spirit that typically lives underground

Dwarf: Entity hat dwells in mountains and in the earth, associated with wisdom, smithing, mining and crafting

Satyr: Bawdy male nature spirit with horse/goat like legs, ears and horns

Centaur: Creature with the upper body of a human and the lower body of a horse

Naga: Creature with the upper body of a human and the lower body of a snake

Harpy: Half human, half bird personification of storm winds

Dragon: Large, serpentine creature that breathes fire

Kitsune: In Yōkai folklore, all foxes have the ability to shapeshift into human form they have the ability to trick others but are also portrayed as faithful guardians, friends, lovers, and wives

Phoenix: Long-lived bird that cyclically regenerates or is otherwise born again, often through burning his body and being reborn from the ashes

Basilisk: Legendary reptile reputed to be a serpent king, who can cause death with a single glance

Unicorn: Beast with a single large, pointed, spiraling horn projecting from its forehead, often portrayed as horse-like

#nct #nct 127 #nct dream #wayv #collab call #nct collab call #nct collab #nct fic #wayv fic #wayv collab call

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laurashapiro-noreally · 4 years ago

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Writing update

Historical epic is done! Thanks to the miracle of @justlikeeddie‘s brilliant beta and @julietk‘s powerful skills and patience, we will be posting the first chapter this Wednesday!

Lockdown fic with @ileolai is in the final editing stages and is getting even softer as I type this. Who would have thought I could write porn without any dirty words in it? What even is this strange alien world I am visiting? I feel vaguely bad that we couldn’t post this before Crowley’s alarm went off, but it’s so lovely I’m hoping you won’t mind.

Now that these two are just about sorted, I am finally getting back to Leaves of Grass, and there are gonna be WIVES in it. I am so excited!

Also on deck: that one with an outsider POV, maybe. At least two more collab ideas. Lots of ideas!

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #my fic #my writing #writing update

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1ddiscourseoftheday · 5 years ago

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Wed 9 Oct

Do You Know Who You Are?

A billboard bearing only this message (bold white on black with a trippy vintage question mark with a hint of a yin yang symbol in it), the Columbia logo, and a small TPWK was discovered in Australia, setting off an international existential crisis and pandemonium (and "solving" the Do tweet mystery, to an extent). Harry Lambert immediately retweeted the pics with a blue heart but quickly deleted, adding to the pandemonium. The blue heart plus the misconception based on the first billboard pics that the lettering was blue led to lots of 'HS2 is blue' talk: while the lettering isn't, a member of Harry Lambert's team retweeted one of those tweets. "The Leonard Cohen font is such a power move," said Rob Sheffield: Cohen did use the font, as did many other albums of the era, including Bob Dylan and the MC5. John Lennon, whose birthday was today, didn't use the font but allegedly (according to basically one source) DYKWYA were the last words spoken to him, by a frantic policeman as he died. It took a while for other posters to be found worldwide, presumably because they went up overnight and it was still overnight most places, but they're out there now; the Holland Tunnel placement is especially nice, and it was pointed out that the first one spotted was in a neighborhood adjacent to one sharing the name of Harry's label, Erskine. Halsey tweeted about squeeing in her GC ("omg Harry is doing a thing"), Harry liked the tweet. She updated her header to 'Harry noticed me on 10/9' briefly, amazing, bravo. Last night while the chaos raged he let show that he was out there watching by liking a pic of someone's grandma.

Louis made a lot of waves as well today for someone who didn't technically do anything public: first a Jakarta based concert promoter posted that he was coming soon ("announcement tomorrow") then a "LouisT tour jkt" instagram page appeared ('coming soon!') but: both were deleted. He may indeed be coming to play Indonesia but nothing has actually been announced. Official accounts did post about the Mexico City show today. The media also managed to tie him, however tangentially, to the hot UK gossip scandal of the day, concerning the wives of footballers Jamie Vardy and Wayne Rooney; they pointed out that three years ago there was a rumour that a biopic of Vardy was going to be made and star Louis. Next time you think us fans have an impressive ability to make everything about One Direction remember this, cause that's a reach and a half right there. Do you ever think about the fact that these 'real journalist' bozos are getting like, salaries and benefits and I'm not?! What a world. Sad.

Niall keeps on going strong though he tells us he's tired and off for a well earned break of a few days now. As he says, "You have those nights where you’re like, 'nice to meet ya!' and also days where you’re like 'huh.'" But before he headed off for his 'huh' days he gave us another slew of interviews and barrage of pictures and boatload of tweets from New York. He posted a pic of himself posing with a poster of pal Selena Gomez and tags her, tells the story of NTMY- seeing the same group of girls repeatedly while bar hopping with friends- and chats about lying to girls in bars. "I love telling compulsive lies just for the laugh!"

Liam posted a collab playlist (of "spicy glo up songs") with singer songwriter Lauv and many were very excited about it and at the idea that it might presage other musical collaborations between the two, including no less a personage than Missy Elliot who commented with excited hand emojis on the post. Liam also posted a late night barechested lying in bed selfie, with just a glimpse of long brown hair visible in there. He and Maya were papped in London.

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youngwolfchaos · 6 years ago

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for tmi tuesday: tag tumblr crushes / people you want to collab with

Are yall ready for this bullshit? I sure as hell am not!

(I am determined to adore as many people as possible on this goddamn post! You opened a hell hole of love nonny!)

Okay let’s get started with those crushes(All kinds of crushes. All of Them!).

My wives @stjernfaerie and @moony-luna ofc. My enemy wife @michael-the-angelo. Obvious choices!

Then there is the wonderful people I have talked to like my beloved @nikapuff and @yourfavouriteravenclaw

@tossermalfoy(guess which kind you are mel!)

@muggle-on-main one of the sweetest souls in this world.

@jenlizrose and @actinganimagus the power couple that make all bi’s swoon ahah!

@unafraidoftoil and @geethanksinternet actual stars. just wonderfu!

@asklilyluna absolute wonder. peak comedy. should do a riverdale rp!

@maraudersandlily20, @lord-lunatic, @ravenclaw-has-claws and @nerdie-faerie my angels of support who dealt beautifully with my anxious babbling!

@claud-illich and @meganhufflepuffrp. My english roses. So much talent. so much kindness!

My wonder Swedes @scamandergenes, @tired-lupin and @talesofafoolishboy

My favourite nice idiot. my main bitch @xbluebellx! I love you you idiot!

the ron sweethearts that is @chaser-not-a-seeker and @the-ginger-magician

@sirussly you don’t know it yet but I will woo you into being my friend with more weird translated danish saying. we got plenty to go!

@askwhathasthiscometo din dejlige dansker. Jeg er biologisk forpligtet til at tvinge mit venskab på dig med angst og sprog forvirring!

okay i have gotten tired and am now just gonna tag people but know i adore you all so much and this is the biggest open invitation for you to befriend me if we aren’t already!!

@softsiriusblack @smolbeanbella @pleb-petal-potter @siriussly-serious @siriusblacktothefuture @parchment-and-constellations @sunshineandrainyflowers @gobletofvodka @megathy-two @ravenheartedgirl @whatsupitswendy @stuff-of-pi @itskitsworld @sleepyandwitchy @bringblackback @vanilla-overdose @pomfreypullsnopunches @marauders-andco @thatredlipped-classic @the-moon-and-stars-my-love @cheapenigma @giggling-grindylow @dandypotter @confunded-gryffindor @mythos-boi @2yeetor2yoot @not-your-doe @klassikally @steelchildrocks @departmentofroleplays @idkmaybenotthatcool @didyaputyanameinda-gobletoffiya @mymischiefisnevermanaged @elvendork-evans @desicosplay @honeysuze @devilwearsmadammalkins @frankyiscrazy @acb-cafe @metamorph-magus @askdoratonks @asklilyevanss @dontthinkonithermione @thediariesofastoriagreengrass

alrighty then imma stop now. I have almost defintely forgotten like million and one people but this post is already ridiculously long..

sorry!

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dancingwithdelusions · 3 years ago

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WEEK 3

Monday 9th August

Physical Theatre (Dan)

- We explored two main approaches of minimalism and maximalism by sharing a personal item, our ‘life story’ and what movement possibilities occur when we use these as a combined stimulus. It was difficult to navigate how these could be accurately translated because the movement was not necessarily literal but could be if intended. I investigated an abstract approach to the movement because this was intuitive to me however I made attempts considering how this might look and be understood from the audience’s perspective.

- Minimalist prompt was sharing our life story whilst a match burned. The time restraint created pressure and reduced the story to the pivotal moments or what we considered most crucial.

- Maximalist approach involved developing movement from the prompts initially explored in class and how we can embody both of these ideas/details of our personal lives.

Contemporary (Anna)

following exercises from wk 2 --

- ‘Stretching point A from point B’ : extending the toe away from the furtherest point -- consider what lines furtherst from the centre line can be drawn and lengthened?

- Consider weight placement - where does it shift, how can the floor be a support to our movement transitions: I find that relaxing at various points or being ‘heavy’ in my feet so that they expand into the floor really helpful in understanding where I am in space and navigating that space.

- Eye-line: I noticed last week whilst dancing in the studios that when I used my eye-line or focused on points in the room whilst moving through the phrases I could navigate the space around me a lot more effectively as well as the space my body consumed. I intend to explore this discovery further to hopefully assist in ‘expanding’ my body in space and finding more space.

- Be mindful of the co-ordination of bending and stretching; ensure the limbs work in relation to the other movements occurring within the body.

Note: * Watched today’s class due to my mental state *

_____________________________ Tuesday 10th August

Pilates

- Psoas focus and the idea of an X that occurs vertically through the body; a line or connection that is formed from the sternum to the pubic bone and crown of the head to the sit bones

- Imagery and idea of relaxing or ‘sinking’ the psoas to the spine (or to the floor during floorwork) and how the legs can work in isolation to the torso

Ballet (Kalman)

We discussed the ideas of making ‘unnatural movement’ natural in the context of ballet technique. Whilst ballet was established in an elitist, eurocentric setting the ideas and principles that govern it as a form of movement apply to anyone and any moving body in the modern day. Attempting to maximise the ideas and groundwork of ballet is useful in how it can translate and extend into other disciplines and ways of movement - e.g. it can expand and be applied to a contemporary dance context and from this classical technique foundation other iterations can be woven and interpreted into it to layer and refine the movements.

- The knee joints actually moving backwards in order to execute a plie/bend movement. This idea is useful when considering how the body anatomically creates space for movement to occur. Creating space is necessary for the ‘flow’ of movement, illusion of ease and focus on certain muscles engaging to avoid fatiguing the dominant muscles.

Dance Composition

- Over zoom we have had to navigate how to maintain and even strengthen the communication and collaboration processes in this new setting. We have also had to adopt and develop our original choreography to the zoom format which involved adjusting our bodies in accordance to the cameras and considering the perspective of the audience viewership.

- We negotiated the collaborative process where we choreographed movement scores to which the animation students will respond to. This was the most efficient and effective to us (as a collective collab group), due to the restraints of zoom and time.

_____________________________ Wednesday 11th August

Ballet (Kalman)

- 2 main features of Ballet involve; turnout/rotation and length away from the centreline: these technical aspects distinguish ballet from other styles.

- Idea to maintain flow/ease of movement: create space in the body in order to to hinge from joints to move (example in combre - lift and lengthen out and upwards before bending)

- Be conscious of the role and importance of the feet. I have found that being more mindful of how my feet are positioned and how the 3 points “tri-pod/triangle” of my foot are in contact with the floor, helpful in aligning my body and how I am moving. I will expand on this idea in my other classes as its been helpful by just allowing myself to ‘relax’ my feet or ‘ground’ myself into the floor at various points when moving.

Tumbling

shock absorption in arms and upper body

shoulders, wrist, elbows

shoulders and shoulder strength can absorb shock as well as provide power

dolphin rolls; suspending in the air by lifting the pelvis

splat technique can navigate how to catch yourself in moments to get in contact with the floor

strength in shoulders and wrists. catching yourself in the moments of ‘air time’ between contact of your body and the floor

_____________________________ Thursday 12th August

Ballet

- Drawing on from Tuesday and Wednesday’s class I set my intentions to focus on my feet and hips and how they influence my turnout, the engagement of the muscles that help maintain this turnout and what visuals/imagery I find most effective. I’ve also become more aware of tension I’m holding in my body and negotiating when and where this is necessary and efficient and when it is not most useful or suitable - this is something I have noted for myself as I have a tendency to ‘overwork’ in ways that are ultimately not beneficial to my dancing or technique. I’m currently reframing my understanding of the often over-used concept of “pulling up” and I have discovered ways to achieve the idea without the ‘overwork’ and inefficient and default habits. What I have noticed:

Relaxing the front of the hips is crucial to my ability to discover my rotator muscles (I have a habit of tucking my pelvis to compromise or attempt to create the illusion of turnout)

Establishing and checking in with the 3 points of the foot (tri-pod), has been useful in understanding my weight placement as well as engaging my turnout muscles + backs of legs

Length can be found without force; letting go of tension in areas of my body that don’t serve by ability to stabilise and balance and re-establishing it in the areas of focus (lowers glutes, abdominals, hamstrings), will allow me to build the strength necessary to achieve stability and grounded-ness.

Martial Arts

Something I noted strongly from class today was the idea of the body moving as an entire unit:

- Reminder to drop the elbows and broaden the back across the scapular so that the ‘back body’ is engaged and supporting the front. This is necessary for the energy transfers that occur during movement because the forces are not isolated in the body but rather, are cumulative and dependent on the engagement from multiple areas and points throughout the body. e.g. the ‘hit’ of the hand or wrist is not going to be as effective and strong without the energy and strength that derives from the shoulders/the lats and the torso.

- Energy in the same way as muscles, is transferrable as a collection or accumulation in the body rather than an isolation.

- I have drawn similar parallels to my ballet classes with the emphasis of the role the feet in finding grounded-ness and understanding weight placement to find strength and energy.

_____________________________

Friday 13th August

Physical Theatre

Today’s class begun with a scenario/role-play improvisation. The prompts provided included ‘fancy dinner party’, ‘desperate house wives’.

Observations from the task:

our ideas based on archetypes/stereotypes dictated our own characters. There was a lack of diversity in our individual personas due to the strong character similarities based on the prompts.

it was helpful to reference other people/characters during our own act/turn speaking. It created inclusivity, an opportunity for someone else to speak or contribute to the storyline as well as propelling and adding layers to the existing story/stories.

I felt a pressure to fill in the silences at times, I became conscious of whether I might have been taking up too much space

Contemporary (Alya)

Exploration of 6 movement principals:

connecting with the floor; in and out of the floor

horizontal falling,

floating up the torso/trunk - engaging the core to isolate the upper body from the lower. going off your leg

spiral

linear relationships (between limbs of the body)

isolated movement spiralling initiation points (one point and one other point takes over)

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miraculart · 7 years ago

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His True Home

Summary: Lotor didn't want to meet the princess. Why would he? Wasn't he enough for his parents? He wasn't. His parents robbed him, they took his childhood, his innocence, his claim to the throne. But he's thankful, the one thing his parents did right for him was introducing him to his best friend, his new family, and his true home.

Rating: T

-Lotor/Allura Childhood Friendship AU-

-Collab Fic with @damianwayynes (writing blog: @litttlewings)

-Based off this post -

DO NOT REPOST

AO3

-Chapter One-

WC:3424

“Lotor! Come downstairs for a tic, dear.” Mama’s voice called sweetly from the living room. ‘That’s strange,’ he thought, his parents usually aren’t home for another couple of vargas… oh well, that meant more time to play! Lotor ran down the staircase excitedly, he never gets to spend all that much time with his parents, he’s cared for by Kit, his nanny. Not that he doesn’t love Kit! She and Kova are his best friends in the whole world.

Lotor came to a sharp halt at Kit’s feet. “Now, now, Lotor, do we run in the house?” she scolded.

He hung his head, platinum curls bouncing, “No.” He got busted for reckless behavior often.

Honerva dismissed Kit with a nod and a small smile, kneeling down to take the little prince’s hands. “Lotor, do you know why Papa and I are here earlier than normal?” He shook his head, he thought they were going to play, maybe they were going on a trip instead! He loved visiting Altea, and the battle station was always fun! “Well, Uncle Alfor’s wife just had her baby, and we’re going to go visit!” A baby? Why is that anything special? Oh well, he gets to see Uncle Alfor, so it’ll be fun!

He looks up at his mother with a toothy grin, “Okay, Mama!”

When they arrived at the Altean castle, they were directed by the guards to the living quarters. Lotor spotted Alfor in the reclining chair, promptly taking off screaming: “Uncle Alfor! Uncle Alfor!”

Said uncle, and new father, jolted up and scanned the room, frantic. “What, what! Diapers? Food? Maybe your binky…?”

Zarkon chuckled heartily, “Ah, enjoying your newborn I see?” Alfor relaxed at the sight of his old (and rather amused) friend.

He yawned. “Yes, as exciting as it is to have her here, I haven’t slept more than fifteen doboshes in 3 quintents...” trailing off, he looked at Zarkon hopefully, pleading that it might get easier with time.

Zarkon sighed, sympathetic to the other father’s first phoeb fatigue. His tone light, he confesses, “It doesn’t get better. You’ll just get used to sleeping less and less often.” The disheartened howl that escaped Alfor’s mouth was otherworldly. He zoned out, defeated.

Lotor tugged on the tall man’s wrinkled robes, “Uncle Alfor, will you play with me?” Alfor looked down at the little boy with a grimace. Exhausted as he was, that child had him wrapped around his tiny purple fingers, who could say no to those big golden eyes? “Well, I don’t see-” he started.

Honerva cut him off. “Alfor why don’t you get back to sleep, we’re here to see Allura after all!”

Alfor glanced at her gratefully. With a yawn, he nodded towards the far staircase, “Of course, she’s in the nursery, just over there.”

Lotor crossed his arms with a scowl. No fun, first he didn’t get to play with his parents, and Mama stopped Uncle Alfor from playing with him. He huffed pointedly as Mama pushed him towards the nursery.

She shushed him gently, and whispered “are you ready to meet the princess, Lotor?” He shook his head. He had no appreciation for anything that took attention off himself. Why would they need anyone else? Wasn’t he enough for them?

He glared at the bright blue room in disdain, so frilly and girly… Aunty was on a covered couch in the corner. She smiled sweetly and held a finger to her lips. He knew that one, the silent game! He closed his lips tightly, not even his breath would escape! She beckoned them over with a couple slow waves of her fingers, her smile fading from her cheeks, but remaining in her sparkling amethyst eyes.

Mama apparently couldn’t contain herself, she muttered, “Oh, she’s beautiful!” His Papa smiled fondly at the crib, but Lotor couldn’t understand why! There was nothing in there but blankets. He squeaked, struggling to hold his breath any longer, and gasped loudly for air. The room smelled sugary, like the Altean desserts Kit let him try from time to time.

Aunty laughed under her breath and spoke softly, “would you like to hold her, Lotor?”

He looked at her, wide-eyed in disbelief, why would he want to hold this thing, this.. this.. play-time hog? He flinched as she stood up and reached over the looming cradle, pulling a small bundle of blankets and curly white hair, just like his, out from the confines of the crib. “Lotor,” she smiled at him, “meet Princess Allura.” She held the bundle out to him, he took it gently, fearful that he might break the small creature. This was the attention-thieving princess? But, she’s so small, so fragile and... sweet smelling?

She blinked open her eyes, a brilliant sapphire blue, then a striking purple, a kaleidoscope of exceptional beauty. It was at that moment he swore he would do everything in his power to protect this perfect little being. Smiling toothless-ly, she reached out and grabbed his nose in her tiny little fist. “Hey, that hurt!” he exclaimed softly, but smiling nonetheless. As he looked down at her giggling little body, he never wanted to let her go.

Unbeknownst to the young royalty, their mothers watched with wise smiles as a new generation of peace was born.

Lotor yelped as a rattle sailed over his head.

At two, Allura was already manifesting the natural strength that was common to the Altean race. He scowled at her disdainfully and she giggled, reaching a small, but obscenely powerful hand to pat his cheek. A smile from her was all it took to earn his forgiveness, and this she knew.

He motioned to her, feeling highly responsible at the mature age of six, and she clambered obediently into his lap. Grabbing a device by his side, Lotor projected a map of stars onto the walls of the nursery, delighting in the little princess’ amused claps. The next varga went oin detailing numerous constellations to Allura. Most would think she would have bored easily of Lotor pointing and describing stars in words she could not properly understand, but the young princess sat still in rapt attentiveness, her multicolored eyes reflecting the galaxies around her.

Lotor himself loved the stars—astronomy in general, actually. Kit had spent phoebs teaching him a new constellation every night before he slept., Sand sometimes they would sit together and spin stories about the creatures hidden in the stars. These were the stories he now passed to Allura.

A sound on the stairs to the nursery caught his attention and Lotor’s fingers instinctively slipped to the small knife his father had gifted him at five phoebs of age. His training had been kept light until now, but his father was nothing if not a warrior.

Luckily, no threat awaited the two children. Father and Lotor’s Uncle Alfor entered the room, followed by their wives. Alfor, Honerva, and Allura’s mother chatted happily about a recent alchemical discovery, his father struggling to follow along. To mask this, he turned to his son.

“Lotor?” he questioned, “Where is the young princess?”

“Father? What do you mean? She’s right—“ He looked down, panic rising as he realized he had, in fact, lost Allura.

He turned a helpless look to the adults, forcing back the tears welling in his eyes. Alfor noticed his distress, despite Lotor’s best attempts to hide it, and gave him a comforting smile.

“It’s alright, Lotor. Allura’s shapeshifting abilities are not yet under her control; no harm has befallen her.”

Zarkon nodded along, clever eyes scouring the room.

“Ah!” He took a few confident steps into the room, reaching into a corner. “I’ve found her. Clever little girl, isn’t she?”

In his hands he carried a little mouse. Lotor frowned at it, observing. It was a small thing, violet in color and quivering in Zarkon’s fingers. He doubted that the trembling creature was the same princess who had nearly broken a guard’s fingers in her excitement.

Alfor, it seemed, shared this thought, as his lips pressed into a thin line, barely stifling his laughter.

“A creative find, Zarkon,” he chuckled, “But I do believe my daughter is over there.”

Their eyes followed in the direction he indicated, and there Allura was, her familiar eyes peeking out amidst the stony likeness of Balmeran skin. She waved happily, the sight of her parents exciting her enough to shift back into her Altean state.

“Ah,” Zarkon said, markedly less enthusiastic. He released the mouse from the cage of his fingers, standing awkwardly at the room’s center.

“It seems I was mistaken,” he coughed with what dignity he could muster.

The Altean King and Queen grinned, shaking their heads at Zarkon fondly and crossing the nursery to their daughter, who eagerly awaited their approach. Lotor watched them fawn over her with a detached interest, turning to survey his own parents. They spoke quietly, unaware of his attention. Lotor was aware they loved him, but they were not showy about it. Mother spent much of her time in the lab, keeping Kova for company. He was forbidden on the basis that dangerous specimen were housed there, but Lotor thought it more likely his mother didn’t want him in her way. Father was busy ruling over Daibazaal and dealing with intergalactic issues as the leader of Voltron. But so was Uncle Alfor, and he still had time for his precious daughter. Lotor felt a spike of jealousy in his heart, followed quickly by shame. He wished no ill will for the Princess, and he would not allow hatred and longing to shape his actions.

“Lotor,” his mother called. “It’s time we return home.”

The young prince turned, wanting to argue. Before he could get a word out, he caught his mother’s eye, and anything he might have said died in his throat. There was a hard edge, an obsessive one, in his mother’s eye. She craved her lab, her studies, her research on the rift Lotor had heard about in passing. Her fingers twitched, and Lotor observed the moment.

“Yes, Mother,” he replied a moment later. He didn’t want to know what she would say if he argued. He didn't want to know if his mother would choose her work over his request.

“I’ll walk you out,” Alfor offered, and fell into step between Honerva and Zarkon. Lotor wondered if he noticed that he was really the only one talking. Allura’s mother watched them go, her smile settling into something more pensive. The princess fingered the tassels of her mother’s shawl, distracted, and Lotor used the time to summon a sunny smile.

“Goodbye, Allura,” he called, his teeth aching as he forced them in place. He nodded at Allura’s mother, who returned the gesture. Allura, however, frowned, as though she could feel Lotor’s discomfort.

“Bye,” she squeaked a moment later, but none of her previous exhilaration remained.

With a heavy heart and a heavier yet grin, Lotor turned to leave the castle. It would be some time before he saw his dearest friend again.

Lotor spent his quintents in turmoil. At more than a deca-phoeb old, every other pre-teen would be in school, or playing with their friends, not Lotor. No, his father, the Empire of the whole quiznak-ing Galran Empire, started him in basic army training six phoebs ago, shortly after his mother began to push him away, favoring her precious quintessence research. Lotor’s only solace was in his one movement’s end off every three or four spicolian movements or so, when he was permitted to travel to Altea and spend time enjoying the limited childhood extended to him by Alfor and his wife. With the rigorous daily training, reduced social life, and his parents reluctance to show any sort of compassion, Lotor’s Altean escapades were his safe zone, his escape.

He often questioned if it was his fault his parents were so cold towards him, was he the reason his mother was withering away before his eyes? Did he do something that drove her to care for her work more than her only son? His father did try to care, granted, in his own way. He thought preparing Lotor was the best way to keep him safe, or at least give them a common activity to discuss in the rare moments they shared. He had approached Alfor with these very questions. Alfor tried to be supportive, he offered advice, extended a hand of compassion, even welcomed Lotor into his home and family. If Lotor was to recognize a true father figure in his life, it would be Alfor. His home was in Altea. And so, during the more grueling and daunting sparring sessions, Lotor thought of them. “Just get through this session,” “two more cycles,” “a couple more varga,” he repeated to himself constantly. If he could survive training, he could see his family, he could go home.

He used to be jealous of Allura, she always had both parents there, doting on her. Her father didn’t force her to train, but he’d never deny her the opportunity to spar, even at such a young age. Her mother wasn’t working at all hours of the day, keeling over with pain before getting back up to do more experiments. Nobody could deny that the Alteans had been an incredible support system for Lotor, he had no need to feel jealous of Allura, because he too received the love and care she was given in plentiful amounts.

Thankfully, the end of the third cycle had finally arrived. Animated with rightfully childish glee, he sped from the facilities faster than an angry klanmuirl and ran for the transport port.

Alfor taught him how to pilot the transfer pods last phoeb, he wanted to make sure Lotor could get to Altea, pilot or not. Swiping his card at the entry gate, he flew past the guard station and circled around the back surveying the dock for his favorite pod. It was a bit rusty, but a brilliant purple color, just like the Altean flowers that grew just outside the castle, and it flew just as well as the finest ships in the fleet.

He approached the pod carefully, attempting to avoid aggravating the crusty old thing. He opened the hatch and climbed in, buzzing with excitement. He had prepared a whole new set of stories to tell Allura tonight, seven phoebs old and she still loved to hear his bedtime stories. Unfortunately, he had run out of actual constellation fables by the time she was four. Kit helped him write some new ones until he started to understand how stories work. Now, he spends the little free time he has writing about the adventures of his favorite constellation, Proth, and Allura’s favorite constellation, Axthyl. A smile tugged at his lips, he couldn’t wait to see her.

The ride to Altea wasn’t terribly long, he spent the time humming old Altean tunes to himself while he drove the pod. It didn’t have an auto-pilot setting, it was far too old to house such software, but he didn’t mind. Flying the pod always had a way of settling his mind. He took the time to wonder what was in store for him this time. Would the Queen prepare her wonderful nunvill again? Nothing like a nice hot mug of nunvill by the fire.

With cozy thoughts of fires and blankets and bedtime stories, Lotor pulled into the docking bay outside the palace. He was well aware of the fact that he stuck out like a choferiak’s nose on Altea, his purple complexion was certainly unusual, and highly frowned upon by more of the upper-class citizens, Lotor didn’t mind them much. As long as he was accepted in his home, he couldn’t care less what he looked like. Jogging towards the palace doors, he was stopped by an Altean guard.

“Where do you think you’re going, young man?” the guard stood in front of him, blocking his path to the castle.

“Home sir, I’m a close family friend of the royal family. Most everyone here knows that. You must be a new recruit.” Lotor answered respectfully, even if Alfor could order the guard around, picking fights wouldn’t make him any friends. “Here, see that guard over there? Ragnor? He can vouch for me.” Lotor pointed to the senior guard, who was currently leaning up against the outer gate.

The guard looked down at Lotor disapprovingly, but decided to humor him. He barked, “Ragnor? You recognize this kid?”

Ragnor lifted his head, when he recognized Lotor he stalked over. In a lazy, east-Altean accent he drawled, “Ey, Lotor! Back from boot camp I see? General’s still workin’ you hard?” Lotor nodded. “Pardon the new recruit, he’s still learning the ropes, jumps the gun like a heifer, know what I mean?” he cackled. Lotor snickered, he could’ve taken the guard down easily. “Oi rookie, this here is Zarkon’s boy. He’s practically an adopted child here, King Alfor says the kid’s allowed everywhere Allura is.”

The younger guard looked down at Lotor shocked for a tic, fumbling for the right words, “I- I’m so sorry, Lotor, uh, sir? I didn’t realize who you were, please, go right on ahead.”

“No problem, just remember to let me in next time.” Lotor smiled innocently, no harm, no foul. With that, he turned and sprinted for the palace doors, throwing them open and pounding up the grand steps. “Allura?” he called out for the little devil angel that brought so much light into his life. Listening closely, he could make out the patter of her feet, thundering across the tile floors.

“Lotor! You’re back!” she ran at him and jumped up into his arms. He caught her instinctively. “Do you have more stories for me? Are you ready to play hide and seek? Oh I know, there’s this really cool animal I want to show you! Or would you rather go cloud watching? Or maybe we could-” He put a hand over her mouth, that is, until he felt a slimy, wet….

He recoiled, wiping his hand on his pants. “Hey! You licked me! What was that for?”

“You put your hand on my mouth.” She looked at him with those big blue eyes and he just couldn’t stay mad.

“Well, I had to stop your talking somehow! To answer your questions, yes, I have more stories. I would love to play hide-and-seek, and see the cool animal, and go cloud watching, but I need to talk to dad first, okay?” He smiled.

She sighed, “Okay, Daddy is over in the control room, he has guests over though, so you might have to wait a few tics.”

He rubbed the top of her head. “You know what, I think talking to dad can wait a while anyways, you mentioned hide-and seek?”

Beaming, she ran off singing: “You’re it!” He just laughed with a smile wider than the Ularian sea.

“What in the good name of Daibazaal is that?”

Lotor watched the strange creature waddle around on its awkward webbed feet. Allura laughed from behind him, stilling her hands. She had spent the last few doboshes weaving junipers they had picked from the castle fields into his hair, a favor he would return when she finished. They sat by the lake, skipping stones and exchanging idle gossip, and, apparently, insulting Altean wildlife.

“Nineteen phoebs of age, and you don’t recognize a common duflax?” she mocked.

“Listen,” he replied, tilting his head forward dramatically, “I stopped paying attention to your ridiculous wildlife ever since we ran into that terrifying white creature with solely four limbs.”

“A xznly sqiwl?” She pronounced the awful mix of consonants easily, and Lotor turned a dead look on her.

“Yes,” he said flatly, “tThat.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, returning to the task at hand, albeit pulling harder. He scowled up at her and she smiled, the picture of innocence.

“That look is going to get you out of intergalactic prison one quintent,” he commented.

“Oh, darling,” Allura replied easily, “As if they’d make it to the prison at all.”

He grinned. “Want to spar?”

“I’m going to pummel you,” she answered, giving up on his hair when he twisted impatiently again, tying it off where she was.

“Of course.”

A wide smile curved her lips and for a moment, Lotor forgot his troubles on Daibazaal. For a moment, he was four phoebs old once again, setting eyes on a tiny little princess who would one day save the universe from Lotor himself.

AN:

Thanks for reading! It’s so hard to believe all this started with a little hypothetical turned headcanon. Updates are going to be a little irregular, busy lives make it hard to write consistently.

A huge thanks to Shreya for agreeing to collab this with me. If you haven’t checked out her other work yet, do it, she’s incredible. @litttlewings is the place to look for all her awesome writing and art.

If you liked it, feel free to like and reblog, shoot me a PM, or comment on the AO3. Your feedback means the world to us writers!

#voltron #vld #Allura #lotor #childhood friends AU #pre-canon au #do not repost #collab fic #His True Home #my work #my writing #prince lotor #princess allura

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