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pterodactylterrace · 4 years ago

Text

Happy Anniversary

Title: Happy Anniversary

Chapter: 1/1

Summary: It’s their anniversary, he would be expecting something special

Rating: 18+

Warnings: It’s porn. Also, poor descriptions of pole dancing, property damage, insinuation of overstimulation and dirty talk.

Edited to add a cut. My bad.

He's expecting me to do something for him. He's been hinting at it for weeks now. He was nice enough to set up the pole for me in the spare room so I had a place to practice during quarantine. Our anniversary is coming up. It would be the perfect time. There's just one problem.

I have yet to master anything resembling a sexy move on that pole. He would be expecting his own personal stripper that he gets to sleep with. That's a pretty normal fantasy to have. Surely I could come up with a routine that would at least give the illusion of knowing what I'm doing, right?

Maybe he should just lower his expectations. That seems like the easier route to go. Certainly easier than me admitting I hadn't been able to actually make much progress with the whole 'fitness stripping' thing I had tried. He always preaches about self discipline and just going and doing your fitness routine. Unfortunately, my routine had the habit of turning into me just watching pole dancers on YouTube and barely putting any effort into it myself. Turns out it takes a lot more upper body strength than I had first thought.

"Just a little something. Show me how much progress you've made."

"I haven't made too much 'progress' to be honest." I mumbled, chewing on my lower lip.

"Well, show me what you can do." Of course. Always so encouraging and supportive. Couldn't he be a jerk, scoff at me, roll his eyes and drop the subject just this once?

"It's really not much." I admitted, reluctantly grabbing the pole. I kicked my leg out and fell back, catching the pole with the back of my knee and spinning almost gracefully to the ground.

"See? You're doing great."

"Don't get too excited, that's the most interesting thing I can do."

"Don't say things like that. You're doing great."

Always so damn encouraging. He's going to give me the confidence I don't have the upper body strength to back up. Just a fun little pirouette then. No air time involved. Just hold the pole up high, spin under my arm and lean back against it. Flirty little wink for some flair.

"You know more than you're letting on." He hummed. Even from my place halfway across the room, I could see his pupils taking over his eyes. Ok, now I'm definitely getting over confident. I jumped up, catching the pole between my legs and going for a spin. In my head, I went around the pole flawlessly and landed delicately back on my feet. In reality my grip slipped and I ended up on my butt with chafed thighs halfway through my spin.

"Are you alright?" Henry asked around a suppressed laugh, crouching down to check on me, fighting back a smile.

"Turns out, that's a lot harder than it looks."

"You did really good?"

"I wasn't supposed to end up on my ass."

"I didn't think so. Care to try again?"

"No, I'm mad now." I pouted, crossing my arms like an overgrown toddler. I'm sure the booty shorts and sports bra complemented the look nicely.

"One more shot. I'm sure you can do it."

"It's harder than it looks!"

"You were so close."

"If you think it's so easy, you try it."

"I have no idea what I'm doing."

"What do you tell me about making excuses?" Oh yeah, that shut his argument right down.

"Tell me what to do then." I really wish I had my phone with me to record this. My giant of a boyfriend trying to spin around a pole.

"Fine then, Mr. Its-not-that-hard. Grab up high with one hand, Higher, almost at a full extension. Grab on with your other hand at chest level. Then jump, catch it between your knees and keep your momentum going counterclockwise. That's the way that pole rotates."

"Sounds easy enough." Henry mumbled, tilting his head and eying up the pole. He practiced the motion he wanted his legs to do few times before giving it a go. I'm honestly unsure if he did it. Once his weight hit the pole and it began to spin, the tension proved to be unsuitable for a man of his size and he ended up on his back with a nice new hole in the wall from the top of the pole.

"Are you ok?" I asked timidly, staring at the carnage that had been created. The ceiling would need repaired. So would the wall. Also, my boyfriend's ego.

"That's going to be a lot of work to fix." Henry groaned, pushing the pole off.

"May I interest you in a sexy nurse fantasy instead?"

"By all means."

"Does it hurt here?" I asked innocently, rubbing his ankles.

"Nope." Henry hummed, laying back and letting his eyes drift closed.

"What about here?" I continued, my hands running up his calves to his knees.

"Little sore." Henry admitted as I pushed his knees further apart, crawling up between them. I squeezed gently, careful to avoid the ticklish spot I knew was at the tops of his kneecaps.

"How about up here?" I questioned, my hands sliding up his thighs, fingertips brushing under his shorts.

"Definitely more tense." We should have tried the whole 'nurse' thing in the first place. I am much better at groping than I am at pole dancing. I slid my hands out of his shorts and grabbed them by the waistband, Henry was more than happy to lift his hips to let me pull them down.

"Oh, I think I see some swelling." I teased, ghosting my fingers up his rapidly stiffening cock.

"Maybe you should kiss it better." Henry suggested, raising that damn eyebrow at me. That wasn't fair. He knew that eyebrow had the power to make me do just about anything.

"Maybe a massage will help the swelling." I countered, actively restraining myself from licking my lips.

"By all means." Henry chuckled, his eyes sliding closed, content to just feel for the time being.

I gripped loosely at the base, slowly sliding up to the tip, my thumb brushing through the glistening drop that had collected there. Another slow stroke back down, grinning to myself at his groan. I knew it wasn't enough, it was too slow, too gentle. Henry liked it when I was more rough with him, though he was always sure to be gentle with me, terrified that his brute strength would be more than I could handle. Like my pussy wasn't meant to take a pounding. Not today. I already had him on his back.

With one clumsy hand I managed to wiggle free of my shorts and underwear while continuing my slow torture of his cock I threw my leg over his and shifted my weight to straddle his thick thighs in one quick motion.

"Having fun?" Henry chuckled, his hands gently taking my hips.

"Yes, I am." I giggled, releasing his cock and shifting up, dragging him through my swollen petals, moaning softly at the feel of him. Fuck going slow. I needed him now. I gripped him by the base, lining him up and sinking down in one quick, fluid motion, Henry bucking below me, his eyes opening wide.

"Fuck sake, woman." He gasped, gripping my hips firmly to keep me in place.

"Want it now." I whined, clenching around him to try and gain more sensation than just him stretching me wide open. No matter how many times he took me, he always stole my breath with his sheer size alone, forcing me to mould to him and take every inch he had to offer.

"You're gonna hurt yourself." Henry scolded, his voice strained by my squeezing.

"No I won't." I pouted, pushing his hands away. I knew he could have easily held on if he wanted to, but he bent to my wishes and allowed me to take control just this once. I was taking no mercy this time. I set a punishing pace, bouncing on him like my life depended on it, spurred on further by his litany of curses. He felt so good, stretching me out, filling me so completely, the head of his cock slamming against my cervix every time I fell down on him.

"Fuck, slow down." Henry groaned, grabbing my hips again. "You're so damn tight, give me a second."

"No." I whined, squirming unhappily in his grasp. "I was getting close!"

"Fuck, so was I." Henry growled, flipping us over all to easily, rising up onto his knees, his forearms going beneath my knees to hold me up where he wanted me. "You think it's easy fucking this tight little pussy? Fuck, every time I just want to pound into you as fast and as hard as I can. Feel so fucking good around me. Need to take care of you first. I'm not cumming alone. Now touch yourself. Let me watch you get yourself off, and maybe then I'll finish fucking you."

That was all the encouragement I needed for my hand to shoot down, pressing against my needy bundle of nerves, rubbing in tight, quick circles. My other hand drifted to my breast, pinching and pulling on my nipple just like I knew he would. I looked up, moaning loudly when I saw him watching me intently, licking his lips slowly.

I squeezed around him, hoping to spur him into motion, but he held firm. He didn't move an inch, refusing to give me the friction I wanted. That didn't stop me from reaching my high, my back arching and his name falling from my lips. He started slamming into me the second I came undone, pushing me further into my bliss.

"That's my girl." He praised, his hips snapping into me, the sounds of our panting and slapping skin filling the room. "Fuck, so tight. Always so tight." He slid his arms from beneath my legs, letting them wrap around his waist so he could lean in, pressing his lips to mine in a hungry kiss, his hips never stopping their punishing pace.

This man was going to kill me. There was no other explanation for what was happening. He was literally planning on fucking me to death. It felt like a fire was building in my belly from how quickly I was hurtling towards the edge again.

"Come on. One more. Don't make me finish alone." Henry encouraged, his hand sliding between us now for his thumb to rub hard, slow circles on my already over sensitized clit. That was all it took for me to finish again, my nails digging into his shoulders as I tried to pull him deeper into me, Henry all too happy to oblige as he found his own release.

"Happy anniversary." Henry whispered in my ear once our breathing had slowed almost back to normal.

"Happy anniversary."

Tag List:

@Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill rpf #unnamed ofc

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves · 3 years ago

Note

Heuj valves, you know what I'm here for, go on. Make us a story dolly >:)

-cursed

Okay, in case you guys haven’t been around for like, the past day or two, let me explain. This is involving Bill Sykes, the villain of the movie ‘Oliver and Company’. Cursed came out of nowhere, showed me this man, and he has LITERALLY kept me up all night last night. I’m tired, majorly horny, and I hate this big, BIG man so much. Let’s go. (Also side note first attempt writing him, I'm trying)

Money. Money was a thing that made the world go round. It was something everyone wanted, something everyone would fight tooth and nail to get. Some people had nothing, and some had far too much. Like Sykes. Sykes had so much money, through brute force, through cunning, through anything and everything unsavory. And with so much money, came with the ability to have SO much power, of which he abused. If he wasn’t taunting people with how much money he had, he was luring more people in with his classic charm. As evil as he was, no one really seemed to see it at the beginning. They saw an older, rather likeable man. It was why no one blinked twice when he walked into the clothes store. If anything, he was welcomed, especially by the man behind the counter.

“Mr.Sykes! Just on time! Ever the punctual man! I got your new suit in!”

“Good, good. You’re one of the few in this city that DOESN’T disappoint me.”

“I should hope not, you’re my best customer! Speaking of, can I be daring enough to offer you a new set of shoes?”

“Wasn’t looking for a new pair, but what the hell.”

Sykes let him be walked to the counter. He JUST so happened to be on the counter next to some lady. Pretty thing, honestly. She somehow didn’t notice him, and pushed a handbag across the counter.

“Hey, I didn’t see a tag on this. Can you check it for me?”

This lady didn’t belong here. This was a real ‘if you had to ask, you can’t afford it’ kinda place. The guy behind the counter gave her a look, before glancing at the bag.

“Twenty nine fifty, miss.”

“Only thirty bucks? Okay-”

She went to dig into her current purse, before he cleared his throat.

“Ma’am, no. I’m saying it's two thousand, nine hundred and fifty dollars.”

“Ah. So when do I get the bull?”

“Pardon?”

“The bull. The one who's giving me this fresh batch of shit."

Sykes had to give her one thing, she had a mouth on her. Sykes sensed a fight, and decided to turn that into his favor.

“Hey, let me pay for the lady here.”

She looked at him, seeming to just now notice his presence. She was reasonably suspicious, and seemed to almost snarl at him.

“I don’t do freebies.”

“Not a freebie. Just thought a pretty lady should have pretty things. If you don’t want it, fine, won’t push it. Really, it’s on me.”

She hesitated, before seeming to put her guard down, pushing the purse back across the counter. He chuckled, swiping his card. This is how you brought the pretty ones in. Buy them something nice and shiny, show them you were a sweet guy. He grabbed his things, and stepped outside with her. She was staring at her purse in fascination, before turning to look at him.

“Thanks a bunch, by the way. Didn’t catch your name.”

“Sykes. Bill Sykes.”

He held his hand out to her, and she accepted the handshake. He took the chance to give her another look over, and realized; yeah. She was worth trapping. He threw his stuff into the car, before turning to look in her direction.

“You have plans for lunch?”

“No, why?”

“Feelin’ generous today. Assuming you can spare me some company.”

She looked hesitant, studying him and his ride. If he wasn’t rich, it would’ve been ‘hell no’. But she was, like many, allured by his obvious, flagrant weath.

“I mean...yeah, sure. Why not?”

Little did she know, she was digging the hole deeper and deeper.

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

It had gotten WAY later into the night than he planned. He had meant to only spare an hour or so, but he found himself taking well into sunset. By the time they left the place, she was hooked, lined, and sinker, laughing and holding onto his arm as they walked back to his car. He opened the passenger side door for her, motioning for her to hop in.

“You want a ride back to your place? You DID have a bit to drink.”

She nodded, getting inside, practically giddy.

“Yeah, I can tell you how to get there, I think.”

“Good, good.”

He shut the door after her, and hopped in himself. He put on his seatbelt, and lit up a cigar. He hadn’t had a good smoke all day, and it felt good to finally get one in. He let her guide him to her house, and made a mental note of just where she lived. The drive was but a simple action, but it was a clever, discreet way of knowing just where to find her. He stopped right in front of her place, put the car in park, and exhaled the smoke into the car’s interior.

“You know, you put me in a real, real good mood. How about I do the same for you?”

She looked at him, confused, before he pulled out his wallet, and brought out a good chunk of cash. THAT sobered her up. Her first instinct was to clearly reach for it, but she stopped herself.

"What...is this for?"

"Spending money. Something for you to play around with, invest in stuff, whatever ya want."

"That’s...lots of money. A...LOT of money. You just carry that with you? You don’t think you’ll get mugged or something?”

“That doesn’t happen. Trust me on that.”

He chuckled. There were attempts, MANY attempts in fact, but...well. Didn’t end well, let’s keep it at that. She looked down at the stack, and he knew she was so close to being in his web. Just one movement of the hand. One moment of indulgence. And she fell for it. She took it from his hand, and counted it in her hand. The more she counted, the more lost she seemed to get, clearly in disbelief.

“Twenty five...t-thousand. That’s seriously how much this is?”

“Right on the dot. Now go on, get outta here. Sure I’ll bump into ya again, Doll.”

When she helped herself out of the car, he chuckled, and pulled out of the driveway. Soon enough made it home, where Roscoe and Desoto looked up at him, clearly wondering where he had been. It WAS a bit past their usual treat time. Fishing some out of his pockets, he tossed them towards his eagerly awaiting pups. He sighed as he sat down at his chair, leaning back a bit, and blowing rolls of smoke into the air.

“You boys ain’t gonna believe today’s catch. A real cute thing, you have no idea. Imma give her the usual week. Desoto.”

He snapped his fingers, and the mutt obeyed promptly, getting out of bed and sitting at his side. He allowed Sykes to run his big, firm hands through his fur, and thumbs rubbing at the tips of his ears. His master seemed VERY pleased by his new catch today, he almost never got special pets like this.

“You guys are gonna love her. Because If I don’t get a bite out of her, you two will.”

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

He waited in his car, headlights off as he awaited her to return from work. He decided to take all this time to get back to some calls, rather than just sit here with his thumbs up his ass.

“No. No. Swear to god ya bunch of morons- no. Take the teeth out BEFORE ya dump him. So what if he screams? Well ya in the warehouse right? Aight, ya gonna be fine then.”

His associate kept talking on the other line, but Sykes didn’t listen. He was too distracted by his hounds in the back, who were now fully sitting up and looking out the window. His dogs were a pain, but at least they were smart.

“Yeah listen, imma call ya back. Figure it out.”

He then saw her. She was even carrying the same purse he bought her. He waited till she went to her front door, before turning on the headlights, nearly blinding the poor thing. He stepped out of the car, hands out as if he was being welcoming.

“Aye, there ya are doll! Been a while!”

She seemed confused for a minute, but as he stepped closer, it clicked.

“Sykes, right?”

“Yeah, knew ya wouldn’t forget me. I didn’t forget ya in the slightest.”

He walked up to her, and leaned against the door, pinning her between a rock and a hard place. She shrunk a bit, before looking down at the floor. She had dropped her keys. Just before she could make the motion to reach for them, he covered it with the bottom of his shoe. He leaned down, blowing plumes of smoke into her face, making tears swell in her eyes.

“So, where’s my payment?”

“Payment?”

Of course she was confused. They always were. As if money was free in this world. He let the cigar roll in his mouth, before nodding.

“Yeah, my payment. You took a loan from me, doll. I need it back.”

“I didn’t know that was a loan! You didn’t say-”

“Little girl, nothing in this world is free, money included. Now, where is it? If you got it upstairs, I’ll go with ya to get it.”

Her little eyes looked so frantic under his gaze. He just needed to hear those words. Words that from any other mouth, would make him a very unhappy man.

“I...don’t have that kinda money.”

That was all he needed. He grabbed her by her arm, and yanked her to follow. She would’ve made a dash for her keys, had Roscoe not nipped at her heel, forcing her to back away. Turns out two barking dogs made for quite the deterrent. Sure, she struggled, screaming as his hand slapped over her mouth, but that didn’t matter. He managed to pull her away, and nearly threw her into the car. Desoto was a good boy, using those big, pearly whites to keep her there in pure fear.

“Roscoe, fetch.”

Roscoe went for the door, grabbed the keys, and placed them into his master’s hand.

“Good boy. Now get in.”

He waited till his other pup jumped into the back, before he went to the driver’s seat, and locked the doors. He adjusted his rearview mirror, and caught a glimpse of her scared little eyes. Yep. She was already worth every penny.

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

“Don’t look at me like I’m a bad guy, sweetheart. You understand, ain’t nothing free. I fancy myself a good guy, but not good enough to just hand out money like that.”

Roscoe and Desoto circled her like vultures. She didn't even NEED to be tied up like this, he just liked the assurance, and the view. Like a little doe, she was still, powerless, and scared.

"I didn't know-"

"What you don't know, CAN kill you. I'm sorry, I know it ain't fair. But life is like that. Fortunately for you, I'm a very compassionate man. We can discuss methods of payment. Any family money?"

She shook her head, seeming to be a BIT distracted by Roscoe's sharp teeth. He gave a sharp inhale, shaking his head.

"Clearly YOU don't have the money, right? No 'under the sofa' cash?"

Another shake of her head. His fingers tapped against his table, shaking his head in clear disappointment.

"Oh. I REALLY don't like your options now, Doll. Ya got two choices."

She squirmed a bit, stiffening as Desoto's teeth bared against her. He lifted his hands up a bit, and snapped his fingers. Roscoe followed the command, and dashed right for her, barking and frothing at the mouth. The weight of his body sent her falling, with the chair slamming onto the floor. He pinned her down, barking and covering her face in drool, teeth BARELY missing her own skin.

Oh how she screamed. How she begged for mercy. How her legs thrashed as she tried in vain to get away. He let her sit there until he was certain there were tears in her eyes. Then he stood up, and slowly walked over to her, heavy footsteps clanking against the hard floor below them. He snapped his fingers, and Roscoe heeled, taking a seat next to his fellow fido. He squatted down to her level, blowing smoke into her already irritated face. He liked crybabies.

"That's option one. I'm assuming you don't want that."

She shook her head, sniffing. He rolled the cigar in his lips, before he lifted her face up with his hand, and pushed her chin down, forcing her mouth to open.

"Option two. You could provide me with a few...services. Then we can forget ALL about the pesky little debt you have with me. You're a pretty little thing, I'd be willing to let you work it off. I mean, you'd survive If I bit you, rather than my boys here. Not to mention if you're sweet 'nuff, I'll un do those pesky ropes of yours."

She clearly thought about it, but her mind was foggy, her eyes hurt, even her lungs felt sore from the second hand smoke. But, just as he suspected, she nodded. A huge grin came over his face, and he held onto the chair, pulling her off the floor.

"Alright sweetheart, let's EARN your freedom here. Open that pretty mouth for me."

He held onto her face as he pulled in, pushing that thick, rich smoke right into her mouth. All while his tongue slid into her mouth, grazing against hers. He took his time, getting a good, firm kiss out of her. He only pulled away when he needed to breathe. She needed it too, starting to fall into a coughing fit. It was cute. He put out his cigar on the ashtray, letting it sit there.

"Mm. You taste good. Damn good."

He undid his belt buckle, and whipped himself out. He turned her face at him, but with a bit of a...heavy hand, he pressed his cock against her face.

It was precious, watching such an innocent face under his thick cock. She whined a bit as he pushed her face into him, nearly smothering her with not only his dick, but his hairy, hairy balls.

"Open up for me Doll, nice and sweet. And don't you bite me. You'll regret it, trust me."

This time she seemed fairly willing, opening her mouth with not much more than a wince. He grabbed onto that pretty, pretty hair of hers, and pulled, really shoving her onto him.

"Oh that's the ticket, honey. Right there. Can feel that little tongue of yours."

He pushed himself fully, and held himself there, till he felt her gag, just like a good girl. He pulled away, watching her pant, lips covered in her own drool, and chest heaving. She was about to speak, before he shoved his balls right into her mouth, head tossed back in content. When was the last time he had his balls sucked by a cute, willing (somewhat anyway) little thing like her? He kept his fat, firm fingers in between her hair, really making a mess of it. Beautiful, poised girls were all swell, but cute, messy girls were such fun playthings. He granted her a bit of mercy, pulling away, while still pumping his cock.

"Mmm. You're a good little girl, ain't ya? Pretty too. I was gonna really put you through the ringer, but you're too damn precious NOT to be opened."

Not needing any scissors, he yanked at the ropes, making them snap under the force of his grip. He lifted her off of the seat, putting her on his desk, and using his big, strong hands to part those nice looking legs of hers. She was clearly hesitant, being felt up by essentially a stranger, but he didn’t care. Long as she didn't fight him, he could give less of a damn. He tore off her skirt, and took a gander of her panties. It was hot, knowing those lacey undergarments were paid for by HIM.

"Cute set here, Doll. Real, real cute stuff."

He took a hold of her ass, and pulled her closer to him, pressing himself right against that nice, cute fabric. With his free hand, he tugged at her shirt. Just because he was hungry, didn't mean he couldn't be a bit refined.

"Shirt, bra, off. Case you wanna keep your outfit in one piece."

He saw her hands tremble, as if she was confused. He gave another tug, and she seemed to finally get the hint, pulling her clothes off. She was worth the wait, honestly. Hell, he was so excited, he took his own shirt off, laying it as carefully as he could off to the side of the desk (it was hard to keep your shit neat when you wanted to be messy). He dug his fingers into her hair again, and yanked her into another kiss, this time really pressing himself against her. It wasn’t just their bank accounts that differed, it seemed. Where she was soft, helpless, he was firm, foreboding against her. He loomed over her, nearly suffocating her with not only his greedy lips, but his large, hairy, heavy frame. He pulled her away for a moment, ignoring the way she winced. He was pretty heavy handed, especially when it came to such a darling looking thing. He started to roll his hips into her, pushing his tip right against her clit. He liked the way she jumped every time, liked the way her toes seemed to curl.

“You’re gonna handle me REAL well, girlie. I can tell. You’re really just a kitten, ain’t ya?”

His hand cupped at one of her breasts, kneading and pulling at the flesh. He was heavy handed with her, using enough force to make her wince. Not his fault she had a cute pair, with a face to match. He would sit there and play with them till they were nice and raw, but he wasn’t sure his cock would handle this much stalling. He hooked his finger into her underwear, and pulled them off. They were pretty much soaked, and something about that was just so charming to him. He let go of her hair, and groped her pussy, palming at her wet, warm folds. She held onto his hand, writhing under his firm grip. He pulled his hand away, letting her whimper as he checked out just how much she left on his hand. Needy little thing, it seemed. He slapped that hand over her mouth, and pushed himself right inside. You’d think he’d give her just the tip, get her used to his size.

You’d be wrong.

He pushed himself fully inside of her, balls deep, and watched her shake. Not that he blamed her. He was a big guy, afterall. He kept his hand over her mouth, despite how much she clawed at his hand. He held her like that, not moving a single muscle until she decided to settle down. He pulled his hand away, watching as her own drool (along with her own fluids) smeared over her delicate little mouth. She looked at the cock stuff inside of her, before looking at his face. He was expecting some kind of retort, some kind of insult, maybe even a slap to the face, stuff he was used to.

“You’re a terrible, terrible man.”

He opened his mouth to give her a life lesson (one he gave everyone when they barked that at him), when she suddenly flung herself at him, nearly smashing her lips against his own. That...was a first. But he was NOT complaining. He grabbed the back of her head, and returned the kiss with fervor, letting her moan right into his greedy, greedy mouth. Laying her right onto her back, he started to slam himself right into her. He had no idea how his desk supported his weight, especially when he was acting damn near belligerent on his new toy, but god was he glad it did. Especially since his new toy seemed just as excited as he was now, running her hands through his absolute mess of chest hair, and even locking her legs around him, as if she didn’t want him to leave. He parted the kiss, panting huskily against her lips. She moved not an inch, in either obedience, or the fact that his strong, fat hands were still holding the back of her head, as if he was scruffing a mutt.

“You’re taking me real nice, doll. You feel nice and tight, and you’re feeling me up like you actually like me.”

She didn’t seem to be focusing on his words for a moment, but rather keeping her focus on his big, hairy tummy. Not that he cared, he favored looking at her tits moving in sync with his thrusts. He favored watching the lewdness in her eyes, he favored knowing that her ravenous pussy leaked all over his desk. All of these he favored, over her actually meeting his eyes (Sykes wasn’t a real romance type, case you haven’t guessed). He let her continue her grubby little hands as he lowered his face right to the nape of her neck. He could tell that she liked hearing him talk, given the way she seemed to pull at his hair every time his breath brushed against her ear.

“It’s gonna feel so good when I cum right in you. You’re already handling me so good, you’re already gonna cum yourself. I can see it. I can see it plain as day, you wanna cum on my cock. Even if I’m a bad, bad guy, you want me doll. And that’s SO sweet of ya, really.”

He could tell she was trying to give him a bit of a fight. Just a little bit of one. She had such a mean little scowl about her, as if she refused to let him see her cum. Unfortunately for her, he always took what he wanted. And after just a few more thrusts, after taunting her with his sweet, sweet voice, and after grabbing her so tightly she bruised, she came. She shook something fierce as he fucked her right through it, relishing in her cries of ecstasy. He was used to screams. Screams of mercy, of pain, but hearing one from such a cute little dame cumming for him, it was just so refreshing. She pushed his face away, only to bury her teeth right into his big, meaty neck. Most bites tended to happen on his hand, so feeling it here was just something else. He didn’t have a chance in hell. With a swear under his lips, he came. He forced her to keep still, pumping cum right inside of her. Even as it trickled out of her, he didn’t seem to quit. He wasn’t timing it, but he knew he lasted a damn good minute before he finished.

“Shit.”

Was his only response. A simple, satisfied swear. One that helped ease all the tension in his poor, old body. His stomach rested on hers as he panted, ever so slowly calming down from a damn good high. She was quite a vision herself, covered in sweat and bruises. Pretty thing. She forced herself to swallow, before speaking, wearily.

“We uh...square, right?”

That made him laugh. He shook his head, leaning over to his discarded jacket, and pulling out a cigar. He lit it up, taking a good, deep inhale, right before looking down at her.

“Honey, that was a damn good fuck, really it was. But that was NOT worth twenty five thousand. You still got a bit of work ahead of ya, Doll.”

He watched her wince as he tapped his cigar, letting the ashes fall onto her exposed skin. Yep.

She was a keeper.

#asks #lemon #not transformers #bill sykes #listen #i MAY have let loose some kinks of #mine #i uh #got it bad

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likelightningafterthethunder · 3 years ago

Text

Like Lightning After the Thunder: Chapter Two: Reprieve

Fic Summary:

His breath wavered as he stared into Katsuki’s eyes. He knew he could get out if he tried. He could knock Katsuki out, hope that no one else would find them, and run back into the shadows where he belonged. Katsuki may have had him pinned down but he was in Denki’s range now and it would take little effort to send a charge through Katsuki to paralyze him temporarily.

It would take barely any additional effort to kill Katsuki.

As the sparks began to charge, lighting up the air around him, Katsuki refused to back down.

–

Katsuki always knew he was destined for great things.

He didn’t think he’d have to turn his back on all he’s ever known to get there.

Rating: T

Warnings: Eventual major character death, implied/referenced child abuse, psychological trauma

Other Tags: Bakugou Katsuki/Kaminari Denki, slow burn, alternate universe - canon divergence

Read on Ao3 (links to corresponding chapter) or read below

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Fic navigation to read the fic on tumblr

–

Katsuki wasn’t surprised to see one of his former classmates’ face on the news report with the tagline “found dead after hero-villain fight.”

The reporter gave a rundown of the fight that had happened a few days earlier on the other side of the city, between a small gang of villains and Ochako. The villains themselves weren’t very high ranking― potential to be B-rank if they were more organized as a group, but C-rank individually― but they had managed to cause a decent amount of damage before Ochako had arrived on the scene. The news replayed the footage taken live from the battle, showing Ochako using her quirk on larger pieces of rumble to assist the lower ranked heroes in the area with evacuation as she charged forward towards the villain group herself.

The footage wasn’t ideal. It was grainy from trying to capture the scene just outside of the limits of its scope and if it weren’t for the pink of Ochako’s hero costume, Katsuki was certain the camera person would not have been able to keep the camera centered on her. The footage continued until Ochako grabbed one of the villains, freezing seconds after the villain began to float. A red circle appeared around the villain’s face along with a mugshot before cutting back to the reporter.

In the aftermath of the fight, that one villain was never found.

Ochako had been frantic when they had met up after, her gaze thousands of miles in the distance every time Katsuki looked. She denied anything being on her mind despite it being so blatantly obvious that something was, but Katsuki chose not to question it. After all, if she had wanted to talk about it, she wouldn’t have asked to meet him.

The report continued to explain the search procedures that had taken place over the past few days before describing a call on the tip hotline that ultimately resulted in the discovery of the villain’s body. While they didn’t show a photo of the body, Katsuki couldn’t help but wonder just how bad it was for the report to completely skip over the cause of death.

In the end, Katsuki supposed it didn’t matter what caused the villain’s death. Ochako was certain to end up finding a way to blame herself, for not paying better attention during the fight, for not trying hard enough to find the villain after, for being the last person who saw the villain alive.

Even if she didn’t, there were parts of society that would make sure she would never forget.

Cheeky: can you meet up with me today?

Katsuki: Takeshi’s?

Cheeky: yeah

Cheeky: drinks/dinner on me after if you want

Katsuki: I’ll be there at five. Don’t be late.

Cheeky: got it!

Cheeky: hey wait why are YOU telling ME not to be late when I’M the one who asked YOU to meet me

Katsuki: You know why.

Cheeky: it was ONE TIME KATSUKI ONE TIME

Katsuki was at Takeshi’s gym a quarter before five, reserving their usual space and changing into workout attire before sending Ochako a text to let her know he was already inside. He started his stretches, looking up only when he saw a pair of pink sneakers approach the ring.

“You’re late,” Katsuki said, continuing his stretches.

“By five minutes!” Ochako dumped her water and towel on the bench next to Katsuki’s, quickly joining him in the stretches. “I was outside before five, waiting for you!”

“I sent you a text saying I was inside.”

“Yeah, like two minutes before five!” She huffed. “I was totally on time.”

“Whatever. Hurry the fuck up.”

They continued preparing in silence, speaking again only to confirm that the other was ready to start. This time, only a couple of the guests flinched when Katsuki charged forward at Ochako yelling out “die!”

After the fifth time a hit landed that Ochako would have normally been able to block with ease, Katsuki stood down. Her form had been lacking for the better part of the past hour, and there were a few times that her blows hadn’t hit with the full force Katsuki was familiar with. She didn’t even react to Katsuki’s change in form until Katsuki had walked over to the bench for his water.

“Wh― hey! What gives?” She frowned but joined him for a water break when he didn’t return to the ring right away.

“Don’t insult me,” Katsuki rolled his eyes at the shock on her face, “You’re distracted. What kind of fucking spar is worth the time when your opponent isn’t giving their all?”

“I’m focused on the spar! I’m totally and completely here! I wasn’t insulting you but I am now, you’re just saying that because of your enormous ego,”

Katsuki paused, looking at her directly in her eyes. She didn’t flinch.

But the longer he held his gaze, the more Katsuki could tell that she was holding back.

“First,” He began, “Don’t be cheeky with me―”

“Well maybe I wouldn’t be so cheeky with you if you didn’t call me cheeky all the time!”

Katsuki held back an amused smile.

“Second,” He continued, “I hit you five different times in ways that you should have been able to block with your eyes closed.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment, because what I’m hearing is that you think I could fight you with my eyes closed.”

“Insult. You didn’t fucking block the hits, dumbass.”

Ochako huffed, crossing her arms. “Whatever. I’m going to focus on the compliment part of it.”

“Third, you didn’t even notice I walked away until after I reached the bench.”

“I― I was expecting you to come back! That it was some sort of trick to get me to lower my guard or something!”

“And fourth, you speak faster when you lie.” He let Ochako stammer for a while in response, continuing when her shoulders slumped with a heavy sigh. “You sure this is the break you need? I don’t mind wiping the fucking floor with you if that’s what you want but you better respect my time back and fucking fight me with your all,” He shifted his weight a bit before adding hesitantly, “I can try to listen if you want to talk instead but that’s not really my thing,”

Ochako didn’t answer immediately, instead taking a drink of her water. Katsuki waited as patiently as he could, although he did offer her a glare to try to speed up her thought process.

She put her water back down and hit her knuckles together, briefly reminding Katsuki of Eijirou. “Okay! One more round. I need to redeem myself before we leave for drinks,”

Katsuki grinned, shoving her lightly with his shoulder as he walked back towards the ring. “Whatever you say, Cheeky. You’re still going to fucking lose.”

“I’ll make you eat your words, Katsuki!”

She did not, but not for lack of trying. Ochako actually paid full attention to the spar after the interruption and while Katsuki still had the upper hand on brute strength, she was nimbler and lighter on her feet. Katsuki was fairly certain that had the shift manager not interrupted to tell them that their time was up that Ochako was only a handful of moves away from finding some “barely legal in a spar between friends but completely legal in a rules free battle against a villain” opening and winning the round. While technically neither of them had won, he did agree—after some teasing and pestering— to counting it as her point in their ongoing scoreboard, adding, “But if you want me to count it as eating my words, you’ll have to fucking try again.”

Ochako seemed to be in a brighter mood when they met up again post-changing in front of Takeshi’s. She bumped shoulders with Katsuki as he approached and began chattering about work and her day as they made their way over to the restaurant they usually ate at after sparring sessions. He didn’t offer much other than the occasional “yeah” and swear when her story necessitated it, but she didn’t seem to mind. She spared him from talking until after they were already seated and ordered their food and drinks.

“Oh yeah! I heard from Tenya that you finally sent in your response to the reunion! Do you know when you’re heading down to Musutafu yet? We should get on the same train so that the ride isn’t as boring— well, kinda, since you’ll probably not be talking,”

“Shut the fuck up, I can talk when I want to,” Katsuki scowled, rolling his eyes when all it resulted in was a laugh from Ochako. “I haven’t looked at the train schedule yet. The Shitty Four Eyes approved for both the 28th and 29th off though.”

“Nice! Well, when you figure out when you want to head down, let me know and I’ll be your Anti-Explosion Time buddy for the ride down,”

“Oh fuck off.”

Ochako laughed again. Katsuki hoped this would be the extent of the reunion talk but she continued, “It’ll be great to see the entire class again, don’t you think?”

“You make it sound like we never fucking see anyone. I literally saw you a few fucking days ago and you spend half your weekends with Frog Face or Four Eyes or the fucking Nerd or whoever the fuck,” Katsuki pointed out. “We see basically everyone at the Billboards too,”

“Don’t be such a bore, Katsuki. Reunions are different from the Billboards. We don’t have to deal with those ‘damn extras’ at the reunion,” She put on her best Katsuki impression at “damn extras,” extending her palms outwards and adding a playful “Boom! Pow!”

“I don’t fucking sound like that.”

“Yes you do. I’m the great Katsuki Bakugou! Die you fucking piece of shit! Boom! Bam! You fucking extra! Bow before the king! Boomboom!”

Katsuki let the faintest hint of a smile slip. “I have never said ‘bow before the king,’”

“Oh come on Katsuki, you tried to name yourself King Explosion Murder, don’t deny it. Even if you’ve never said it, you’ve definitely thought about it.”

He scowled, muttering a “fuck off”, refusing to acknowledge that yes, yes he had thought about saying it once or twice.

“So you admit that I’m right!”

“Fuck off, I said no such fucking thing.”

“You didn’t say ‘no’ either though.”

“I’m demoting you to a fucking extra, you shitty fucking extra.”

Katsuki was given a brief break from any potential cheeky response from Ochako when the server stepped in with their drinks. They raised their glasses, a silent toast to making it another day alive, to making it as far as they had come, to their friendship.

To the silent understanding that there were some struggles that were best left unshared.

He didn’t press further about whatever it was that was stressing her out, even if he had a strong feeling about what caused it. She didn’t comment on the circles under his eyes or how his mind seemed to wander after she brought up certain high school memories. They talked, ignoring their stressors, and for a while, they could pretend everything was fine.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #Kaminari Denki #bakukami #kamibaku #katsuki bakugou #denki kaminari #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #story #from the creator

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birdwonder · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, can you please write another young Joseph and Caesar's sister but this time where Joseph is messing with his metal clackers and tries to show off in front of her but ends up looking like an idiot? Thank you again so much for writing these amazing scenarios.

Joseph Joestar | Idiot

Just another day was passing by. You were seated upon a railing that stopped you from falling back into the sea surrounding Lisa Lisa’s island with a flavoured lollipop in your mouth, legs swinging idly as you watch with half interest the sparring session before you.

Your forever doting older brother, Caesar, had possibly one of the most cockiest looks you had ever seen him wear before and no doubt was filled with triumph thanks to the current state he and his sparring partner was in. From the fact a particular Brit had a heaving chest as he struggled to breath and his posture was far more slumped than Caesar’s, it was easy to say Joseph was for sure losing this battle. What a shame, here you was rooting for him and he goes ahead and loses. Though you had to give credit to the fact he wasn’t nearly as experienced as your big brother was, after all he had been taken under Lisa Lisa’s wing a few odd weeks ago.

Not that it stopped him from trying to make any moves on you.

The lollipop was pulled from your mouth and you twirled the small candy with the stick between your thumb and index finger. It would be nice to see him win but with that mask stuck on his face and his lack of training, you didn’t expect him to recover from this - or so you thought.

“This isn’t quite over yet Caesarino !” His overconfident voice rang, muffled by the covering over his face, bringing your gaze to look over at him and surprise you by realising he was also looking your way. Did he really think he had a chance in Hell of winning ? No way. Not with how things were going now. Though with that wink he just sent your way perhaps you were wrong. . .

Wait, did he just wink at you ? That idiot ! Huffing, you turned your head to the side and stuck up your nose. If that brute thought you were going to fall for his suave tricks so easily, he had another thing coming. Unlike other women, you weren’t so easy to sway. You too have trained beside your brother so you’ve been hardened to not become soft easily over trivial things like a man trying to get with you. Not to mention your brother was very insistent to warn you about Joseph and his childish ways, claiming he was no good for his princess of a sister. While you perhaps you didn’t regard him as that much of a lower being compared to you, it was probably wise to listen to the blond for the sake he didn’t try kill Joseph just for thinking of wanting to date you.

Still, you were drawn to him even if you didn’t want to admit it and so you eventually looked back to the men and their fight. Joseph had straightened up once again and you could hear Caesar say something that warned him to step down now or regret it later. Naturally, the idiot didn’t listen.

His hands disappeared into his pockets and out came his most iconic weapon - his clackers. How you wanted to laugh when you first saw them but even you were impressed with how well he handled them, it was almost mesmerising the way they spun and were able to be adapted into a pretty deadly force when used correctly. The small balls began to move in large circular motions yet for some reason Joseph wasn’t taking any steps to actually attack Caesar. If anything he was a good few steps away from even hitting him so just what was he doing ?

“Hope you’re prepared for my ultimate attack, I’ve been practicing this one all night,” he boasted jovially like he was sure this would be the move to end this session. You had to admit, it was impressive the way the clackers began to spin in intricate patterns and even flung behind Joseph just to reappear in front of him once more thanks to the long strings that connected them to his fingers. To cheer him on, you placed the lollipop on your tongue and clapped a few times, a smile bright on your face that didn’t go unnoticed. You were rooting for him ! Smiling even ! While there was no way for you to know it, the sight of you supporting him had made his heart flutter. It even urged him on to do better. Perhaps too better.

The high he got from seeing you smile made him completely ignore what was going on around him and so he failed to noticed the strings of his clackers not only getting tangled with each other but also wrapped around his arms to tied them to his sides and get him stuck.

Then came the panic, his mistake was realised and he yelped and he struggled to free himself. “Gah, hey w-wait, no--!” Somehow he had managed to slip up literally and fall on his back, making you gasp in surprise and Caesar almost fall forwards with laughter. He really was an idiot. With a sigh you shook your head, not able to contain a small giggle however as you jumped off the banister and made your way over to the fallen fighter.

Your brother continued to laugh hysterically in the background while you sat down on your knees beside Joseph, hooking your finger under some of the strings and began to help untangle him from his awkward predicament. Sure he hated the mask he wore yet in this moment he wasn’t more thankful for it as it saved you from seeing the embarrassed blush coating his cheeks and nose. He messed up and in front of you and Caesar of all people ! “H- haha, would you believe me if I told you that was planned ?” He laughed nervously and you shook your head once more, laughing yourself softly which made things a little better. You sounded like an angel and with the sun shining right behind you, creating a gorgeous glow around you, he was convinced you were one.

“Forget it, there’s no way.” Most of the strings had be unwinded when he sat up, making it easier for you to pull them away. Joseph groaned, slapping a hand over his face when his arms were finally free.

“I’m such an idiot ! That was meant to be a cool trick and I just made myself look stupid,” he complained. You had pity for that. Sure you told yourself to stay away from the Joestar but if he was going to put that much effort into winning you over then ok. It was a little endearing and you may as well indulge him a little.

A hand rested upon his covered cheek and you guided his face to look directly at you, surprising him. An audible ‘huh’ sound was made before you started to speak, the lollipop once in your mouth now held in another hand, “oh you were stupid alright, in a cute way that is. Not bad Joestar, maybe next time you practice I’ll be there to help.” And if that wasn’t enough to make his mood entirely better, you shot him a quick wink before standing up, making your way back to relax against the railing. During the time you couldn’t see him, a fist had been thrown into the air and Joseph whooped loudly, considering this a success despite having sorely lost the spar. If that was going to earn him a cute look then he was for sure going to train harder to win you over !

For now though, he better deal with the very confused and bordering on angry Caesar who had to witness the whole thing.

#drink every time you read idiot #joseph joestar x reader #Joseph Joestar #jjba x reader #request #Caesar Zeppeli

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mwolf0epsilon · 4 years ago

Text

First off, before everyone comes after my butt with their "No Fun Allowed" and "Cringe" signs, this is in no way something to be taken as gospel or insightful. It's not a prophetic enforcement of canon. It's literally a theory done for fun, and to try to piece the Bendy Crack up Comics into the general and messy lore of the BatIM franchise.

Most of you get this and don't need a big wordy warning about fanon interpretation, but a lot of peculiar people tend to show up in my ask box hoping to start a fuss over my headcanons and AU ideas, so I thought to be nice and leave a polite and diplomatic "Kindly Fuck Off" sign at the door for them.

With that said, there will be mild spoilers, carry on of your own volition, down below under the cut that will definitely show up because Tumblr mobile is a functional app that's never given me trouble!!!

---

[[MORE]]

The Bendy Franchise has an established issue with cohesion in its lore. We all know what I'm talking about, we all have reservations about canonical character discrepancies (game vs novel vs guidebook) and we all have been racking our brains with a few holes in the timeline, as well as how BatDR (which is neither prequel nor sequel) will fit into this, since it's connected to BatDS and that's an established prequel to BatIM.

Granted I myself am missing a lot of pieces, having to scrounge around for info since I can't really get any of the reading material myself and rely heavily on @british-hero (who owns the novel plus got her copy of the comics yesterday), a very incomplete wikie, and analysis and theories from SuperHorrorBro's Bendy videos.

Heck, I also rely on a lot of gameplay footage, because BatIM has a bit of subtle storytelling through visual design of its levels, and hints of how certain characters work through a few game mechanics.

Through this mishmash of collecting puzzle pieces for the greater picture I even have a few notes on my phone to piece together certain events in established dates, something which comes very in handy for this theory since it talks about two particular characters, the Projectionist and Brute Boris (and I guess Twisted Alice to some extent but it's more of a note on some interesting thoughts I have of her).

Without further ado, here's what this theory is all about: Why did Norman become the Projectionist, and why did Twisted Alice turn Buddy Boris into Brute Boris?

If you think about it, there's only two creatures in the studio that really seem out of place in the world of BatIM, and that's Prophet Sammy and the Projectionist. Neither are inherently similar to any of the cartoon characters, nor are they considered to be Lost Ones. They're certainly not Searchers, but while we know Sammy is unique because his method of transformation was different, we never got an explanation for Norman's. It could be that it's a process similar to BatDR's new enemy type that's larger and seems to have bits and bobs stuck to it, but then those big guys seem like the equivalent to Swollen Searchers for the Lost Ones. The Projectionist doesn't really fit the puzzle.

Or at least he didn't.

With the introduction of the Crack up Comics collection, we get three new characters that were definitely designed in the same manner that the Butcher Gang was. Beginning with a corrupt monster forms and then giving way to perfect and pristine rubberhose toon forms.

I'm talking about Miss Twisted, the Brute, and Cameraman.

The villainous trio from the Souper Boris comic strip.

To us it's obvious the artists created them in parallel to Twisted Alice, Brute Boris and the Projectionist, but to the actual canon this actually has a bit of an impact on the Projectionist's existence.

Why, you ask? Because those characters were introduced between 1936 and 1940.

Bendy Crack up Comics table of contents, showcasing the publishing dates of the strips.

For anyone who doesn't know (either from not paying attention to the Joey Drew Studios channel audio logs, or from not owning the books) the Ink Machine wasn't conceptualized or installed until 1942/1943. Putting that into perspective, the only other thing that happened in Joey Drew Studios in 1940, was the conceptualization of Bendyland (which is likely the origin of the idea for the Ink Machine itself).

This means that Cameraman existed well before the Projectionist ever came to be, and that made me think about another thing: The Ink's apparent sentience.

I'll be frank, the Ink is very hard nut to crack. I consider it a form of alchemized entity, others consider it pure black magic, and I'm pretty sure Joey Drew himself had no idea what he was dealing with when he began using it. The fact of the matter is that the Ink is alive and that it has its own agenda. One that coincides with Joey's, out of mutual interest.

In the novels it seems to want to be free, but it can't exactly do that as a formless liquid, so it tries to body-snatch people (ex: Sammy and Buddy's grandpa).

When Joey tries to use it to give life to Bendy through nothing more than using the Ink and a template (likely a character model sheet) the Ink tries to follow the model but immediately becomes a distorted humanoid version of it (which honestly rings so many fucking alarm bells on its own). Things… Escalate there on out, with Joey trying to perfect the method and only managing to succeed through Daniel Lewek (and many other nameless Boris Clones), Allison Pendle and Thomas Connor.

An important thing to take from this, however, is that by trying to perfect this method Joey not only taught the Ink to reshape things into viable referenced material, but that he had to have lost control of just how many souls were being pumped through the Ink Machine for him to monitor and keep up.

Sammy started killing people when he completely turned, and it didn't seem to take long for him to cut down people in likely both the music and art departments. At this point he had no self-restraint and was completely wrapped around inky fingers and Joey's lies.

Norman is one such potential victim, and Dot and Buddy even passed by his ink-wrapped body while fleeing.

Now, the thing about trying to follow a specific guide and not having the actual means to make it exactly the same thing, is an easy enough notion to get (as shows like "Nailed It", and years of trying to perfect visual style mimicry, have taught me).

The Ink likely had the template it needed (maybe a printed copy of Souper Boris that got thrown around in the chaos), the insight of what Norman's role in the studio was, the amount of mass it needed to consume and transform his dead body, but not exactly the right sort of… Centerpiece for it...

Cameraman using his lens to light up his path.

But what's a projector besides a bigger fancier camera? Both blink, both take film, same thing right? The ink doesn't see the difference and just stitches together this humanoid bootleg cameraman with the pieces it finds that are similar enough.

Mechanical blinky head? Check.

Strange round disc near the belly? There's a speaker. That's round! Check.

Film? There we go, a nice big round reel full of film in it, let's put it near the head, that's how it works right? Check.

Lastly, no Joey to actually direct this artistic recreation of a one-off character. The Ink did it all by itself while he was off getting his hand broken by a rightfully upset Buddy Boris.

If you look at it objectively it makes sense that being the projectionist tasked with not only recording and maintaining the projectors themselves, that the entity in the Ink would pick Cameraman as a template for Norman's transformed self.

It also makes sense that the Projectionist is so off-putting in the studio. He's almost perfect, but not quite because there just weren't the right materials. He's stuck in between Twisted Alice and the Butcher Gang clones as another failed recreation.

Moving on to the next question on why Twisted Alice turn Buddy Boris into Brute Boris, when she hadn't done the same to any of the other Boris Clones.

It's hard to say really, but I think it all comes down to who Twisted Alice really is. It's very likely that, as Susie Campbell, she would have knowledge of the comic strips. A few were most likely made into cartoon shorts even (which isn't an unusual assumption to make), and maybe Susie voiced a few background characters for said shorts.

Susie may have lost her role as Alice, but before Joey came to her with his proposition for the "special project" it's very likely that she remained in the studio, forced to do the voices of characters that weren't noteworthy or that she felt completely disconnected from (talking chairs and singing hens really don't become beloved fan-favourites) . Maybe if the Souper Boris story was made into a short, she might have voiced Miss Twisted (which honestly would be personally insulting considering she once had the role of the main heroine).

Point is, Susie knows her lore, and that translates to Twisted Alice's repertoire of insightful knowledge on the abominations lurking around the studio.

She never did turn other Boris clones into brutish lackeys because at the time she didn't need to. But it doesn't mean she hadn't considered it. Henry's disruptive behaviour is just what she needed to put that plan into motion.

There was already a "Cameraman" walking about, one that could easily rip apart anything it came across, so acquiring the means to recreate the "Brute" would have been benefiting from her point of view. The Projectionist doesn't take orders and can't be reasoned with, so if she could make something just as strong that took her orders she could, theoretically, be safe from most terrors in the studio. If that didn't work, she would still likely send others to their death by simply sending them down to Level 14, or maybe lure the Projectionist to them herself (just because he doesn't take orders doesn't mean she can't use him to achieve her end goals).

Miss Twisted, the Brute and Cameraman in their evil swamp lair.

But why Buddy Boris specifically? Why couldn't she have used any of the bodies laying around? Freshness most likely. Rigor mortis is probably still a thing, even for living cartoons. Easier to work a fresh dead body than a bunch of stiff wolves.

That's at least why I think Brute Boris is a thing. Susie's knowledge of most Bendy cartoon/comic strip characters, taking inspiration from the Projectionist's presence, and honestly a very twisted sense of humor and irony. In her quest to become a Perfect Alice, the heroine of the show, she ended up becoming just as antagonistic (although more sadistic) as Miss Twisted, a Bendy comic strip villainess.

#bendy and the ink machine #batim #bendy crack up comics #bendy spoilers #spoilers #theory #headcanons #speculation #twisted alice #the projectionist #brute boris #long post

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decalinethespacecat · 3 years ago

Text

The Games that We Play-Ch.1

A simple exploration.

That's all this mission was supposed to entail.

Well, in a sense, perhaps they had accomplished such. Stranded on a new, foreign world, brimming with energy, and teeming with organic life. And with that, it was the very life that they had been forced to alter themselves to, the very lifeblood that dwelt on this strange sphere in too great an excess, and thus, should they not adhere to the laws set by this new world, it could mean the loss of their functionality, or even more, their own sparks. Of course, ironically enough, it hadn't just been themselves that had to follow this code: the very ones that had caused their stranding here had also been subject to it. And even more, one amongst their former pursuers had, albeit forcibly at first, integrated amongst their numbers. Now, as the two parties faced each other atop this mountain, five against five, the playing field had been leveled.

The two heads of the opposing sides made direct eye contact with each other, the differences between them evident in far more than just their conflicting ideals and ambitions. On one side stood the stalwart, strong form of a darkly furred primate, leaning on his knuckles as the species he had scanned were inclined to do. His eyes were dark, yet soulful, and in the minds of some of his fellow explorers, dare they say, they appeared almost akin to the small creatures that had aided and catered to their ancestors. On the other was, for all intents and purposes, a complete antithesis of everything the primate was. He bore the outer flesh of a large theropod coated in a sheen of violet with a series of green ridges trailing along his back, ending at the base of his tail. Rows of sharpened, ivory teeth lined the inside of his powerful jaws, small, yet menacing red eyes full of intent glowering back at the primate opposite of him.

"Across the galaxy," the ancient reptile spoke, voice low and smooth. "It has come to this, Optimus Primal." The primate stood his ground, along with the other four organically based Cybertronians with him. "Face to face," a smile crept onto the theropod's features. "Tooth to claw...yesss." Oh yes indeed, he had been clamoring for this very moment! "Have you anything to say?"

The primate's face grew stern. True, he had not set out on this expedition with the intent to seek combat. Yet ultimately, Primus, it seemed, held other plans for them. "I'd say, that's prime." he simply stated before bearing his elongated canines. "Let's do it!"

...

"YEAHHHH!" a chorus of young voices cried out, five to be exact, as they charged in unison at a collection of five pieces of notebook paper held up by a used popsicle stick glued onto the back, each of them stuck into the ground so they would stay in place. The owners of the voices came forward and did 'battle' with the pieces of cut-out paper, lightly striking and flicking the fragile, crudely drawn depictions of their current 'adversaries'.

This was the third time they needed to be redrawn, and frankly, no one was wanting to have to do all five Predacons all over again. Especially if one of them was a young adolescent with questionable drawing skills. If anything, at least they LOOKED like how they were supposed to this time. Sort of.

One amongst the five, a boy with tannish skin and a darkly colored buzz cut, grabbed the cutout of Megatron (at least, it was supposed to be Megatron) and purposefully fell to the ground, bringing the piece of colored paper on a stick close to his face, raising one hand to keep it back, as if it weighed a good deal of weight.

...

The jaws were close. So insultingly close. Just a few centimeters more, and that slagging ape's head would be firmly in his jaws! "Admit defeat, Maximal!" Megatron bellowed, Primal not wavering, yet it was evident that he was struggling against the Tyrannosaurus' massive head. "The Energon shall be ours!"

The silverback needed to act fast. He held no intention of obeying the violet Predacon's demand, yet he needed some leeway. He needed to at least get the larger beast off of him! "Not if I can help it!"

...

"Yah!" the tan boy hollered, behaving as if he had just flung a two-ton boulder off of him, yet the paper cutout landed in the grass with little more than a soft crinkle. "Surrender, Megatron!" he proclaimed, his voice far from the authoritative, triumphant Maximal he was imitating. "You're scrapped!"

'Megatron didn't retort back, the boy realizing then what kind of corner he had just put himself in.

"Uh, guys?" he called out, the other four children ceasing their 'battle' against their respective Predacons and turning towards him. "Who's not fighting at this part?"

One boy amongst them, African and with a top of short, black curls, turned to him. "They all are!" he answered back.

"Yeah, but who's being shown fighting?"

"Uh…" the other boy paused, thinking for a moment. "I think it's just Optimus and Megatron."

"Ok." the tan boy went over to pick up the Megatron cutout, his dark eyes taking notice of a nearby tree. "You mind? I can't really chase myself."

...

The impact was immediate, and even if it had been mere seconds, the shock that came with the splintering rock formation behind them both clearly affected Primal more than his adversary.

A fact that they wasted no time in taking advantage of.

With one swift, precise bite, Megatron put the jaws of the mighty beast he had donned as his alternate form to proper use, the premaxillary teeth that once belonged to the likes of the extinct predator tore through the alpha primate's thigh, right above the joint. Primal released an involuntary wail of agony, the sharpened instruments having torn through his alt mode's synthetic flesh and down to the fragile circuitry and wiring underneath. Not feeling satisfied with just one sample of the Maximal's mech fluid lightly bathing his tongue, Megatron bit yet again, only this time, Primal seemed to have better prepared for it. He was still in a great deal of pain, yes, yet now he could better channel it, using the horrid sensations and transferring it into an unquenchable need to fight back, beginning with delivering a hardened chop with both hands to the top of Megatron's scaly dome.

This blow had put the behemoth reptile in the same position Optimus had been mere seconds prior. And due to the blow he had delivered, it took the Tyrannosaurus a moment to realize that, surprisingly enough, the foolish ape had somehow found it in him to up and began swinging him around by the tail! As soon as the world had begun spinning for him, it stopped, only to then realize he was flying right into the ceiling of the mountainous structure, crashing down with a resounding thud that shook the entire landscape.

"Gah!" Optimus cried out, hissing as he analyzed the injury done to his leg. True, he had managed to stand to deliver that rather 'creative' maneuver against his aggressor, yet it now dawned on him that there was no way he could walk with a tear like this. And internalized repairs wouldn't be able to undo damage such as this. As if to add insult to injury (literally in a sense), the reptile had somehow managed to get up. "It…" Optimus stammered, forcing himself to rise. "It's over, Megatron!"

"It is NEVER over! Nooo!" He could scarcely believe it at first, yet given how the brute's forces traveled all this way to engage them, perhaps anything was possible. After all, what other Cybertronian before them had been forced to adopt a secondary skin of organic flesh? Despite the painful surges the multiple Energon crystals sent through his true form, Megatron did not waver, aiming and sending a missile right in the direction of the wounded Primal. "For if I must die...I shall take you with me!"

There was no way he could avoid this. Its proximity was too close. The urge to flee was great, yet Primal stood firm. He would stand tall and accept this. He had begun to shut his eyes, awaiting the inevitable. 'Till all are one…'

Yet one, he was not yet to be.

The missile had never come to meet him.

...

"Wait, you want me to do what?" one amongst the group questioned with a quirked brow, this time the child, despite the role, a young girl with skin slightly darker than the boy roleplaying as Primal, her thick, black hair tied back in a low ponytail. In her hands was a wooden sword, one that she had made sure to bring each and every time she met with the others. Yet now, the African boy was asking her to do something a little...odd with it.

"Well, in the episode, Dinobot blocks it with his tail."

"So, what? You want me to put this on my butt?"

"Uh...well, it'd be accurate."

It sounded absurd, not to mention difficult to pull off. Sure, she didn't really know how to properly use the sword, yet at least she could make use of it as something of an improv baseball bat. But nooooo, when she batted the "missile" away like that, they had to stop so that they could do it 'the right way'.

"Fine." she moaned, rolling her eyes and tossing the crumpled piece of paper (Waspinator got stepped on, AGAIN) in the African boy's direction. "Throw it again."

...

The one that had once been under Megatron's command, the one that had blocked their way and saw fit to end his life on the stone bridge, allowing the Predacons to catch up with them, had just been the one to strike the incoming projectile with his striped, reptilian tail, sending it off course and away from them both.

The former Predacon and his would-be usurper had just miraculously saved him from certain death.

This revelation was given no time to truly be dwelt on at the present, for the missile had found itself a new target, the explosion sending a chain reaction that soon caused the entire mountain to shake.

"It's going to blow!" a brown rhinoceros bellowed, the once battling Predacons quickly realizing the danger they were all in and making a hasty retreat, leaving their downed leader behind.

"Time to fade, heroes!" one amongst the Maximals shouted, a green-eyed cheetah, he making himself scarce along with Primal and the rhino, a large, grey rat also atop of the horned creature's back, a velociraptor racing alongside with them off of the mountain. None dare to look back, lest they waste precious seconds before the entire formation exploded.

Thankfully, they thought as they now found themselves a good distance away, all of them had managed to make it out of that close call in one piece. All four...no, all five of them.

Optimus turned his gaze towards the newest member of their group, his pale eyes gazing back into the silverback's own. "Thanks." he simply stated, the ancient reptile somewhat taken aback by this gesture.

"My actions did not imply loyalty, Optimus." the striped theropod clarified, momentarily averting his gaze, his voice low and raspy, yet strangely enough, sincere. "I owe you my life." He admitted the act, even if he dare not openly say it, was rather humbling. "Now we are merely...even."

The silverback took no offense to this. In fact, to the raptor's befuddlement, he simply presented him with a satisfied grin. "I'll accept that."

"Yeah, well, uh.." The rat, having long gotten off the rhino's back, wasn't exactly ready to allow this saurian into their ranks, no matter what Optimus declared. Orders or not, he'd make his opinion on "Chopperface", or rather, "Choppahface", known for a long while. Still, there was a burning question on his mind. "At least Megatron's gone, and so is the Energon!" he declared, voice rising in hope. "Can we go home now?"

It was too good to be true. The shaking of his leader's head cemented this fact. "No, Rattrap." the gorilla solemnly stated. "For now, we're stranded here with the Predacons on this unknown planet." the situation sunk in for all of them now, truly. "Megatron may be back, and there is still more Energon. If they ever get enough, they could conquer the galaxy." he could see the trepidation etched into their features. Indeed, he would be a liar if he said he did not share in their collective concern. Still...there was no other way. Their opposition had to be stopped. And whether it be here, Earth, or even Cybertron, his conviction would have remained the same. "So for now," he began, looking towards the endless, blue horizon above. "Let the battle be here, on this strange, primitive world. And let it be called," he shouted, extending his fist towards the skies. "The Beast Wars!"

...

"YEAH!" The five shouted in chorus, full of nothing short of absolute triumph and exhilaration, the sight of the untamed, unconquered canyon and mountainous landscape the Maximals stood upon at the forefront of their mind's eye.

Of course, after a few moments of this, said landscape steadily began to fade, the mowed, fertile, green lawn of the African boy's yard coming to consume the place stationed in their imaginations.

"Uh, ok." a voice amongst them spoke, said voice belonging to another girl in the group, though contrary to the other young lady with them, she bore lighter skin and a head of long, red locks. "So...do we go over the toy fund now or later?"

"I think we've got a more immediate problem than that." the African boy said, picking up the crumpled-up piece of paper. "Somebody's got to redraw Waspinator. Again."

The skies had darkened, the sun just beginning to set. Yet in the small, packed enclosure of the cubical-shaped treehouse, none of the five children paid any mind, a serious and passionate debate taking place amongst them.

"No way! I did it last week! It's Tim's turn!" a blonde boy with scruffy hair protested, crossing his arms.

"Last time I checked," the African boy clarified, gesturing an accusing finger back at the blonde. "You only did it last week because you skipped out on the last time it was your turn."

"Hey, I was sick that week!" he protested.

"Yeah, that was boring." The black-haired girl admitted. "I was tired of acting out that episode where Cheetor got kidnapped by Tarantulas."

"You got tired?" another girl questioned, she of lighter skin and a head of fiery red hair, even if her voice was meek and smooth. "I had to make sure the cutout we made didn't get too messed up."

"At least Rattrap got to do stuff in that episode!' the other girl retorted, looking to her wooden sword. "Dinobot was barely in that one!"

"And we can only do so many with just five of us!" the blonde added in. "Soon, it's going to get to where we're going to have to start making up our own episodes!"

"Ok, look!" the tan boy interjected, the other four quieting down. "We're getting off track. The point is that Waspinator got messed up, again, and somebody's got to make another cutout-"

"Again." the other children finished for him, he somewhat startled by how quickly they picked up on what he was about to say.

"Right, so one of us is going to have to do it. But we've got to find out who's turn it is to make a new one-"

"Timothy Leblanc!" each and every one of the five adolescents jumped at the voice piercing through their private space up in the crudely constructed, yet still standing treehouse. And whilst the feminine, rather irritable voice called out for just one of them, each didn't need to ask what this also meant for them. "It's thirty minutes past five now, and you're STILL up there?! Your father's going to get here in less than five, and your dinner's had to be heated up twice already!"

The African boy winced, looking at his friends with a rather sheepish expression. "I've got to probably get going too." the red-haired girl confessed.

"Me too." the blonde added. "Mom's going to kill me if I don't do the dishwasher before the day's done."

"And my mom wants me to help her with the...the…" the black-haired girl paused. "I think she called it a…bistek tagalog?"

"A what?" Tim questioned.

"Your mom always makes the weirdest stuff." the blonde added.

"Whatever it is, she wants me to help mix the sauce and put the onions in."

"So, who's going to redraw…" the tan boy began, only to find that all eyes were on him.

A few hours later

"Thanks a lot!"

"Yeah, totally!"

"You're always so thoughtful!"

"Yeah, the best!"

Even now, he was STILL seething mad at all of them.

True, there really wasn't a rush, and he could probably get it done during study hall tomorrow, but still, once again, he had been sacked with the task of redrawing Predacons (correction: one particular Predacon) AGAIN, when the rest of them knew well and good that it was someone else's turn! Still, in a way, he sort of knew why he got this particular task the most, mainly because he was the only one that could actually make them LOOK sort of accurate. As accurate as a fourth grader that had a decent enough grade in Art could get.

'Yeah, well, let's see them when we act out 'Starscream's Ghost'!' the boy thought, scribbling a green crayon in the thick pencil lines that made up Waspinator's outline. 'I'll be Waspinator on that one! And...oh wait, no.' he just remembered. 'We don't have anyone that can be Tigetron or Airazor.' let alone did they have anyone that could've filled in the role of Blackarachnia or Inferno.

'And we can only do so many with just five of us!' the blonde boy's words echoed in his mind.. 'Soon, it's going to get where we're going to have to start making up our own episodes!'

"Inuksuk!" a man's voice said from the other side of the door, the young boy ceasing his doodling. "Don't tell me you're still up!" the child inwardly groaned at hearing his full name. Culture and heritage aside, he still hated it. "Have you even brushed your teeth yet, young man?"

Brushed...oh shoot!

The older, far taller adult standing outside of the boy's room was knocked back by the door, quite literally, slamming in his face, a small figure rushing out and into the bathroom. "Well, at least you know to stand out of the way next time." a woman shouted at the bottom of the stairs.

"Y-Yeah...guess so…"

Bathroom

Not so much brushing as he was grinding the bristles in and around his teeth, yet from what he could see in the mirror, his mouth was foamy enough for it to count! Speaking of which, he took a moment to eject said foam from his mouth and into the sink, washing it down and getting out the dental floss, tearing off just enough (just as mom showed him) and tying the ends around his fingers (just as mom showed him, though he struggled more with that particular step). Inuksuk looked good and hard in the mirror at his still growing teeth, a couple of empty spaces from recently pulled ones serving as areas he needed to keep extra clean, this particular tip from his father (of whom he just realized he might've just slammed in the face with a door).

He'd have to apologize when he got out. Assuming he hit him hard.

Still, as the young boy garbed in a simple, grey t-shirt and worn down, dark grey sweatpants navigated the floss through his available teeth, he found one thought running through his mind on repeat as he went on with his (very belated) nightly routine.

"Soon, it's going to get where we're going to have to start making up our own episodes!"

...

"...making up our own episodes!"

Making up their own episodes...hmm.

Perhaps the better term for it would've been 'making up our own stories, as really, how were a bunch of kids going to get ahold of anything better than a handheld camera, let alone, by some miracle, contact Mainframe with a stack of papers detailing these new exploits and adventures of the Maximals?

Still, Tim thought, as he spit out the strong tasting, even stronger stinging Listerine, it could work.

Yeah, they'd have to go through the process of deciding on a plot, a script, who'd be the 'star', all things that, frankly, he would've been more than content to leave for the fine folks who were in charge of the show to decide. But, seeing as it was evident that they'd probably be playing out these reenactments with just five, Timothy couldn't help but entertain the potential Mathis' proposal brought with it. What if, just if, they did go through with it...what could they do? Or perhaps the better question was, what COULDN'T they do?

Oh man, oh geez, oh gosh, oh man! He had just meant it as a way so that they wouldn't have to act out the same stuff over and over again! But thinking about it now...oh geez, he was near slapping himself for not suggesting it earlier!

...

"Mathis, bed!"

"Ok, mom! Just a minute!"

The blonde boy heard the door to his room open, a hand setting itself on his shoulder.

"It's been ten." a low, feminine voice told him. "And unless you want to go through the ritual of me setting the radio on at max volume for you in the morning...and also, did you even brush, let alone take your pills yet-"

"Ok, fine." Mathis groaned, getting up from the dining room table and to the foot of the stairs.

"Clean up first."

He turned back to face his mother, she bearing his blonde locks, yet not his chocolate brown eyes. "But didn't you just say-"

"It's going to take you five minutes to get all these crayons and pencils up." she answered, a small, curt grin coming to her lips. Once again, she foiled him. As the young boy went back over to the table and began putting the art supplies back in their proper boxes, correctly, as she was watching him, the woman couldn't help but notice what her child had been drawing. "Who's that?" she asked, picking up the piece of lined paper. "One of the characters from that show you and your friends watch? Um…" she tapped her finger on her chin, trying to recall whom exactly her son fawned over. "Cheetara or something?"

"That's Thundercats, mom." Mathis moaned. "It's Cheetor from Beast Wars." well, technically, that wasn't what it was called over here, yet he and his friends were in mutual agreement that 'Beasties' sounded ridiculous, not to mention stupid. Besides, Optimus outright even said that the fight they were in was called the flipping 'Beast Wars'!

"Ah, right. He's the...leopard, right?" This earned the woman another groan. "Kidding, kidding." She scanned the crude markings meant to resemble the computer-generated robot cat (at least she thought that was what he was, she only saw the show in brief intervals), and found a strange, new figure beside him. "Who's this?" she questioned her child, gesturing to the right of (what was supposed to be) Cheetor.

"Oh, that's…" Mathis began to answer, stopping before he could finish. "Well...I don't really know what his name is, but he's somebody I made up."

"Ah, like it's supposed to be you in the show?"

"No, it's not me. It's someone I made up." the boy affirmed. "He's a Saber-toothed Tiger."

(AN-I know it's more accurate to call it a Saber-toothed cat or Smilodon, but being a kid in the 90s, and in general, a kid, everyone I knew, both other kids and adults around me, just called it a Saber-toothed Tiger.)

"Oh, ok. That explains the teeth." his mother nodded.

"Yeah," Mathis confirmed. "There's only five of us, so we only have so many episodes we can act out as the Maximals. So I got to thinking we could maybe make up our own episodes."

"And in turn, make up your own characters?"

"...yeah. Yeah, I guess so."

"Yeah, well," the woman ruffled the younger boy's hair. "You have all the time in the world to do that tomorrow and on the weekend. Right now, everyone, even Saber-toothed Tigers, need to get up into bed. And they definitely need to keep their teeth clean"

"Before they have pills in some ice cream?"

She smiled, going over to the freezer. "I guess that can be arranged. Though, I'm not sure how you could eat anything with chompers like that."

...

'Making up our own episodes…' she wondered, as she climbed on into bed, her long, red locks contrasting greatly with the ivory fabric of her pillow and pale pink of her sheets, as well as a majority of her room, of which followed in a similar color scheme. 'How are we going to do that when we can't even save up enough to get some actual toys?'

Indeed, before the whole discussion involving who was going to be tasked with re-drawing Waspinator, she had collected what everyone had to offer that week to the 'toy-fund'. Inu (of which she and the rest had called Inuksuk, seeing as his name was somewhat difficult to pronounce) was the only one to have actually brought a full dollar along with herself. Everyone else ranged from fifty to no more than five cents.

'Five cents?!' she remembered losing her cool at that. 'Really, Mathis?!'

'Hey, it was hot out!' he in turn retorted to her. 'And Dr. Pepper was RIGHT there in the machine!'

She was still more than a little peeved about it, but ultimately, there was little that could be done now. 'We've gotten up to twenty-five, but if each toy costs around ten dollars, each separate toy, then…' her hand traveled to her forehead, realizing in horror what this meant. 'We're going to have to get around fifty dollars total! And that's not even with tax!' she flopped onto her bed, her red hair fanning out underneath her. 'We're going to be stuck using paper cutouts for the Predacons forever!'

This pessimistic musing, however, was cut off by the cracking of her door, her blue eyes watching as a large, furred, quadrupedal creature squeezed through the opening it had created and made its way to her bedside, sitting on the small, white floor mat stationed beside it.

"Hey, Zoe." The young girl greeted the massive Main Coon, this vocal utterance being all the greyish-brown feline needed to act, hopping on her bed and planting herself at the footboard, curling up and tucking her head under her tail. She folded her hands underneath her head, still more than a little perturbed that it'd be even longer before she and her friends would reach the desired goal of however many dollars before all the Predacons could be purchased. Assuming they would even be able to find any at a Wal-Mart or Toys R' Us. "If anything," she spoke aloud to herself, Mathis' words coming back to her. "Making up our own episodes would probably mean that we'd have to do even MORE work. Because then, we're going to start making up our own Maximals and Predacons!"

...

'Which would be so cool!' The Filipino, black-haired adolescent mentally declared, having been warned already to not be too loud, and that she had school to look forward to in the morning. 'Looking forward to school...yeah, dad, that was a REAL good one.'

'It'll be even better if you get in those eight hours. Now haul yourself up to bed.'

Frankly, she wasn't sure she'd be getting any sleep tonight. Not with this running through her head.

'Like...like there are already characters that are toys that aren't in the show yet! Like Claw Jaw, or Armordillo, Wolfang, and…' as she continued on, listing each and every Maximal and Predacon she had seen on the shelves (Dinobot WOULD be hers! Eventually.), her brown eyes surveyed her environment before she got out of bed and locked the door to her room, then went back to her bed and cut on the lamp stationed on her dresser. She then opened the single drawer on the small, wooden dresser, an even smaller, black notebook, and a single, number-two pencil residing in the compact space, the label 'Lulu' stuck on the cover via a small piece of paper and tape.

'Ok,' she mused to herself, grabbing the two objects and flipping open to a page with just enough room. Then, she began writing. 'Now...there was Claw Jaw, Armordillo, Wolfang…'

...

'...some guy that's a German Shepard...don't know how that happened.' indeed, he didn't, but lo and behold, it WAS indeed a toy. Inu rolled around on his left side. 'Maybe we could start with something a little more simple. Like...like after they left the mountain, they got the ship up and running better.' Despite his eyes being closed, scenarios and 'what ifs' began playing out in his mind. Yeah, that could work. Lulu could maybe play out how Dinobot settled in...and Mikaela could come up with some stuff to throw at her as Rattrap does in the show. Granted, that in itself might've been a little difficult. The Filipino girl could play out her role well enough without much assistance, yet the redhead kind of needed some 'coaching' on how to be snarky. Bizarrely enough, she could channel the rodent-based Maximal quite well whenever the subject of the 'toy fund' was brought up.

Inu continued to ponder and think, drowsiness steadily beginning to creep in, the faces and forms of his small circle of friends steadily transforming into the characters they portrayed in their reenactments.

'Hey.'

Yet...as he drifted off, the smallest bit of his mind that was still conscious noticed that despite the boy himself playing the role, the transformed silverback in his mind seemed to be paying attention to something or someone ahead of him. Something or someone that clearly wasn't present there before, yet he behaved as if they had been there all along.

'Thanks for the help back there.' Inu took a moment. This had to be a dream, yet...he certainly wasn't complaining. 'If it wasn't for you clearing out that path for us, we probably wouldn't have gotten off that mountain at all.'

"Oh, uh, no problem, sir." the young child answered, standing to attention like a soldier, salute and everything. He was far from a Maximal in this developing vision, let alone anything that could've ever had the potential to supposedly clear out a path, yet such details were trivial and minute to him. This was getting good, and he wasn't about to risk spoiling it.

"Despite your size, I'd be more than willing to allow you into our, heh," Primal chuckled, looking at the variety of fauna around him that were his comrades. "Ranks. Besides," he continued, extending one large, darkly colored hand. "I've always been curious about humanity and their culture."

...

Normally he'd totally be against this.

"Ah, here are some nice ones."

Here he was, some kid, in a time where people didn't exist yet, riding upon a talking rhinoceros as if it were the most mundane, normal thing in the world!

"Tim, you mind getting a few samples of these also?"

And even more...he didn't have a single problem with it.

"Sure thing. Just a second.'' The boy addressed both his transportation and 'favorite', hopping down from the Maximal's back and to the fertile, grassy plain below, said plain coincidently teeming with flowering specimens of all kinds. Some of these he had never seen before in his life, let alone in the pages of any book he could potentially check out from the school's library. Thus, he wanted to get the best one. The most fascinating and intriguing, not to mention definitely alien specimen…"Aha!" he cried out, wasting no time in plucking the desired flora from its place and bringing it to the brown rhinoceros. "Here.'' He presented his 'present', a strange, budding thing with fanned-out petals of primary colors.

"Now THAT'S one I might have to keep for myself," Rhinox admitted, the human boy in turn put the flower in a glass compartment he (somehow) had on his person. Dream logic, but he wasn't willing to spoil this. "Truly though, Timothy, sometimes I feel like you, aside from Optimus, are the only ones that can understand and appreciate the majesty of this place."

It was then that the child swore his heart had stopped. True, it probably hadn't, as he certainly didn't feel like he was dying in his sleep, yet to hear those words from the disguised robot, his 'favorite'...well, he was quite ready to go and pick every single thing that was growing in this imaginary field, should the rhino wish it.

...

His two legs carried him forward, the grassy plain and clear, summer sky nothing short of a picturesque perfect day. The slim spotted big cat with vibrant, green eyes that ran beside him was far from allowing the blonde boy to catch up. Far from it.

"Awesome!"

Impossible as it was, Mathis was actually catching up with HIM.

"You're almost as fast as I am!"

"Wait, almost?!"

"Yeah, almost!" With that, Cheetor gave himself a little bit of a boost, propelling forward and leaving the blonde a short distance behind.

Oh, it was on now.

The boy wasn't even getting tired. His legs were burning, his entire body drunk on adrenaline and whatever other chemical that flowed through his body (he'd have to remember to copy the notes off of Tim for Science class again), but by God, he was in absolute nirvana.

"Whoa, you actually caught up?!" the younger Maximal exclaimed to the human child, more than a little surprised at this.

"Y-Yeah!" Mathis shouted back. "Yeah, guess I did!" who cared about being a Sabertooth Tiger or whatever other animal, he was killing it just being an ordinary, boring….well, kid!

...

"..."

"...ok, look kid, you gonna stare all day?"

The red-haired girl giggled at the grey rat's annoyance. Even if she was the current source of such, she found she didn't particularly mind it. "I guess I just never realized how…"

Rattrap quirked a brow, taking another bite of the rotted blue apple (another indication this was no more than a dream. Not the giant, talking rat, oh no). "How what? You said it now, you can't leave me hanging."

Her teal eyes shifted. "I don't think you'll like it."

"I reiterate my prior statement."

"Fine," she said. In truth, she was somewhat anxious about how he'd react, yet all the same, a part of her hoped it'd be something he'd react to. "I never realized how fuzzy you are."

Any contents that once rested inside his mouth were promptly spat out. "Wh-WHAT?!" he exclaimed, scarcely believing what he had just heard. "What'd ya just say?!"

"I said you were fuzzy!" she repeated, a part of her somewhat fearful she offended him, yet another just as excited. "Right now! Your fur's getting all ruffled up!"

"It-it is not!" it clearly was. Robotic at spark he might've been, his outer skin was still a slave to its species' "quirks".

"Yes it is!" she chortled, fear finally gone and replaced with total amusement.

"It is not, kid!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes, it is!"

"No, it ain't!"

The vocal back and forth continued on and on, his growing frustration and embarrassment seemingly only channeling more and more humor for the human child, she then actually having the gall to come over and stroke him. Actually stroke him, as if he were some pet she had owned! Even worse, as he came to see as she continued to do it over and over, her hand traveling through his grey fur, Rattrap didn't entirely seem to mind. Daresay, it actually felt kind of...nice.

"Still don't know which of yous is worse. You or Choppahface."

"...you're still fuzzy."

"...it's you."

...

Block.

Thrust.

Block.

Swing.

Block.

Upward swing.

How she had managed to conjure up this particular kata in such a small amount of time, mattered not to her.

"Come now!" all that mattered was whom she was doing it for. "You're surely more capable than that!" Twisting herself around, the Filipino girl lifted her wooden sword and brought it down on the winding blade of Cybertronian origin, the wood miraculously not splintering upon impact. The azure features of her idol transformed into something of a curt grin of amusement. "You really believe you have a chance against me?"

"M-Maybe?" she answered. How she was doing this, she didn't know, yet frankly, she didn't care. And now she just up and made herself look like an idiot in front of him. Great.

Their weapons continue to strike and hit against each other, Dinobot outranking her in strength and size, yet she found that her smaller frame led to her gaining some clear advantages. Ducking under his legs, she aimed to stab upwards, he, in turn, whirling around and leaping forward, away from her strike. She got up, ready to go at it again, yet on the transformed Maximal's azure features, she beheld something that, had she not been so determined to keep her composure in front of him, she could've died happy right then and there in her sleep.

A smile.

A smile that echoed nothing short of absolute pride. Pride for her, of her, of one that had called him her favorite.

"You're far from ready to be partaking in any battle." the transformed velociraptor told her. "Yet...I will say this: there is a degree of potential in you."

...

Despite the distance between each of them, some greater than others, the same consensus was shared among all of them that night. And for many more nights to come. If their fantasies could either become their reality or better yet, have the ones they fantasized of step into the one they were unfortunately stuck in, then their young barely lived lives would be nothing short of absolutely perfect.

Primal's best soldier.

Rhinox's number one assistant.

Cheetor's best friend.

Rattrap's favorite (though he'd never say it).

Dinobot's best student.

The ideal scenario, should it ever be granted to them.

Though even in their young minds, they all knew such things, and their idols were regulated to the television and their own minds. True, it far from curbed or starved the desire to wish and hope for it, yet ultimately, it would be for naught.

For now, they had to make do with what they had at their disposal, regulated and limited to the simple, partially fulfilling games that they played.

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beybladefanboy · 4 years ago

Note

Hello, buddy ! Can You make a post to describe your favorite characters from every Beyblade season ? 🙂🙂

Odd question but I'll answer it to the best of my ability.

Metal Fusion: Kyoya and Ryuga

Kyoya was my favourite character throughout this season. I liked seeing how his rivalry with Gingka started as kind of obsessive due to Doji's influence but then became healthier and more good spirited. However he still retained his sarcasm and wit when he became an ally to the heroes, playing the straight man to a lot of their jokes which was just fun. He's a fun character in general. I love the sarcastic assholes and his over the top arrogance, which you'd think would be annoying, is actually really entertaining. As for Ryuga, he's an excellent villain in this season. He scared the heck out of me as a kid and still managed to make me anxious rewatching it now. He was the perfect balance of entertaining and threatening in this season. I like him as a villain in Fusion. In Metal Masters and Metal Fury, I grew to like him as a character since we saw his true character in those seasons. So while I like him more in seasons 2 and 3, I don't want to repeat myself too much. Just know that Ryuga is my true favourite.

Metal Masters: Tsubasa and Zeo

Tsubasa got a lot of character development in this season through the Dark Tsubasa arc. I loved seeing him truly become part of the group and learn to accept and control the darker side of himself rather than unrealistically driving it out like other stories do. I like this take better. In real life we can't force out unwanted aspects of ourselves. Trying to repress 'darker' thoughts or feelings just backfires, which it did for Tsubasa. Instead Tsubasa learned an actually applicable lesson about accepting our flaws but not letting them control us, which resonated with me as a kid and still does now. As for the new characters in Masters I'm honestly not the biggest fan of them. I find Masamune annoying, I really dislike Wang Fu Zhong and the Garcias, and most of the others are just kind of there for me. I don't really get why these characters get so much attention here in the fandom. Out of all the new characters, I liked Zeo the most. I felt really bad for him. He got abandoned by one of his best friends and his other best friend was dying in the hospital, leaving him to be abused by HD Academy in his efforts to save Toby. It was just incredibly sad. His bitterness toward Masamune is really understandable to the point where I'm kind of on Zeo's side. Masamume was being a really inconsiderate friend.

Metal Fury: Yuki and King

Yeah, I like the new characters of Fury more than the new characters of Masters. There were less of them in this season so they were allowed to develop a little more than the Masters cast did, starting with Yuki. I find Yuki's anxiety and self-doubt to be very relatable to me personally and seeing him learn to overcome it was really satisfying. I also like how he isn't overtly powerful like the other legendary bladers. His strength comes from his knowledge and precision, which come in handy more than a few times. It's a nice way of showing that brute strength isn't all that matters in a blader. As for King, I just think he's really funny. I don't really know why. He's the kind of character I would normally hate but I find his arrogance entertaining and his friendship with Masamune is one of my favourites of the series. I love their little back and forths and how they support each other when they need it but make fun of each other literally any other time. It reminds me of one of my real life friendships.

Shogun Steel: Ren and Takanosuke

I wasn't a big fan of Shogun Steel or its characters but if I had to pick favourites, it would be Ren and Tanakosuke. Ren was the closest thing the series had to an original character (she deserved more screen time!) and Takanosuke... Well he's that type of character that redeems villains through his sheer goodness. He's like Kenta or Mokuba in that way. So I kinda just like the type of character he is. Shogun Steel doesn't give me much to work with but since I've seen it, I felt I should include it.

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managingmymuse · 3 years ago

Text

Plotting

for writer's month

day 24: fake dating

(original fiction | ???)

I read and reread the King's declarations more times than I could count. Soon the words grew blurred from my fingertips, and the paper threatened to peel apart at the folds. Still, I kept pulling it out, picking at it like one picks a scab.

I forced myself to wait a week before sending a reply. Before I made any answer to the message at all. I needed that time to compose myself, to ensure that I could write without a shaking hand or tears dripped onto the page. It was terribly rude, of course, but at the moment, I was quite over politeness. If Timothe had an issue with it, he could consult my father, seeing as everything I'd told Timothe so far had been ignored.

The betrayal hung on the back of my tongue like acid. It made me short with my mother when she came to discuss gowns, and shorter still with Marcel Imons who was still pestering Abigail Lyon. When he approached her near the lake by the girls' dormitory one afternoon, I dispensed with my usual diplomacy and used a burst of magic to fling him in it.

Abigail's roommates laughed themselves sick.

By the end of the week, I'd calmed down enough to write with a clear hand. My missive was short, and to the point.

What possessed you to do this without asking me?

The reply came quickly. Mail between Yarrow and Imena didn't often take long.

My dearest Desdemona,

I must beg your forgiveness. When I returned from Imena, I was in deep pain at the loss of your company. My suffering was so great that my magic diminished as well. When my father discovered this lack, he dispatched his orders immediately, and without consulting me.

I regret that I have not had the opportunity to ask you properly. I promise, upon my next visit, I will make it up to you in full.

Ever yours,

Timothe

I'd frowned at the letter. And then, in a fit of pique, I'd burned it, using my rage to fuel the flames.

It was only later that the mistrust began to settle over me. When we'd been together, Timothe had always seemed self-possessed. Confident. Unlikely to wallow in supposed heartbreak. And when we'd parted, he'd seemed resigned to our future relationship as companions, if not outright friends. But by the time he got to Yarrow, he was disturbed to the point of magic disruption? After a mere day's drive?

Something did not tally. Not at all.

Timothe's triumphant return, presumably with a real proposal and a ring, was scheduled for the next school break, only a week away. Many of our classmates were returning to Yarrow for the solstice, but I would stay here with my family. And Timothee, apparently, would be visiting us.

My mother went into a flurry of preparations. She just about cleaned out every larder in the county searching for chocolate jellies and lemon drops. The staff was given a verbal thrashing every time she saw a button loose or a shoe unpolished. Every room on the main floors was laden with pine boughs until the whole house smelled-- and looked-- like it would belonged in a forest.

While my mother obsessed, I made my own preparations. I borrowed a particular spell from Lady Rathburn's extensive library.

She grasped my arm when I turned to leave her. "Think very carefully before you use this," she said, grey eyes bright. "The truth is not always kind."

I knew that already. Perhaps better than I should. "Don't worry about me," I said. "I shall be the very soul of discretion."

And I was. Rather than send servants for my supplies, I shopped for them myself, trailing along Spill Street like a lady at leisure rather than on a mission. I purchased the ingredients I needed in three separate shops, mixed in with a dozen more items that I never intended to use. Anyone who recovered my shopping list wouldn't know what I was shopping for.

I brewed the potion and let it steep two nights beneath the moon's rays. When it was done, I had a thin vial of a brownish liquid that would make any man, woman, or child, spill their secrets they'd much rather take to the grave.

Arranging a meeting in private was a much more difficult task to manage. My mother wanted to lavish the precious prince with hospitality, and even my father thought it would be impolite not to greet him upon arrival in our city. In the end, I had to do my very best impression of a lovesick girl to get them to consent to allow me to have tea with him in private so that he might propose properly.

It worked, I'm ashamed to say. Very ashamed indeed.

Timothe's carriage rolled up one wintery morning. I watched from the window as he strode up the stairs of our home and knocked precisely once before our butler greeted him. I rang for tea while the butler helped Timothe off with his coat and gloves and settled myself in a rather demure position on the sofa a mere moment before the door swung open.

"His Highness Prince Timothe," the butler said.

I nodded and stood to offer a curtsy. Timothe strode into the room in grand spirits, crossing the distance between us in a matter of seconds. "Darling," he said. He seized both of my hands in his, bringing them up between us to press a kiss to each.

The back of my neck prickled with unease. "Pet names now?"

"You're unhappy with me," Timothe said. "I understand."

"Do you?" I glanced at the butler. "You may go."

With a swift nod, he withdrew.

A heavy silence fell about the room. Embers crackled and burned in the fireplace.

I motioned toward the high-backed chair in the center of the room and allowed Timothe to be seated before I resumed my own position. A knock sounded on the rear door to the room, and a maid entered, bearing the tea service I'd summoned just moments before.

"I've had tea prepared," I said, motioning the maid to set it on the table nearest us. "It's just the thing to warm you after such a cold journey."

"My dear, the only thing I need to warm me is your kind regard."

Ugh. I nodded to the maid, indicating that she could leave before reaching forward to pour the tea.

Timothe's gaze was a hot brand on my neck as I carefully added liquid to his cup and dropped in a single sugar cube. "You're angry with me."

"I'm furious," I said. I offered him the cup and saucer, and he took it. "We discussed this the last time you were here. I said I don't wish to marry."

"Yes, and I tried to respect your wishes," he said. "But once I got home, I realized how much I missed you. My magic suffered. I'm ashamed to say I moped."

"You might have written me before you told your father we were to be married."

"Would it have changed your position?" he asked. "Knowing of my heartbreak?"

My lips firmed into a thin line as I poured my own tea. "You ask too much."

"On the contrary. I think I ask just enough."

He took a cautious sip of his tea, and a bolt of triumph flared through me, lighting me from within.

"Think of how happy we'll be," he said. "How powerful. Between the two of us we'll have the political capital and brute strength to rule this bloody empire, my brothers be damned."

I just stared at him. I watched the color drain from his face. I watched dawning horror pull at his lips.

"Why-- why did I say that? Did I--" His gaze dropped to his tea, and his lip curled. "How did you get this recipe?"

"I am a witch," I said. "You seem to forget it."

"On the contrary. It's the only reason I'm interested in you at all."

I expected that, but it still stung. I took a delicate sip of my own tea before I set the cup down.

A range of emotions was flashing across Timothe's face. Rage and confusion and fear. "Sweetroot tea is illegal."

I lifted a shoulder. "Then have me arrested."

His lip curled. "You know I won't do that."

"Because you love me?"

He outright snarled. "You know I don't love you. Or you wouldn't have fed me this this brew."

That one didn't sting nearly as much. Not with the victory of tricking him dancing in my veins. "If you don't love me, why force me to marry you?"

"Why does anyone marry?" he said.

"That's not an answer."

I have to give him credit, he fought it. But the recipe I'd used for the Sweetroot potion had an extra kicker of joja berries mixed with acanthus oil. In precisely the right quantities, it was formulated to make the reluctant more forthcoming.

"You saved my life," he said. "I need you to do it again."

"Are you in some sort of danger?"

"My brothers. They're trying to kill me."

He stood up at that. His hands were curled into fists at his sides, and the cold shadow of fear passed over me.

"How-- that is, I-- how dare you," he said.

I affected nonchalance and drank some more tea. "If beating me into a pulp will make you feel better, then by all means, try it. But I warn you-- I fight back."

He snarled at me. Outright snarled. And for some reason, it filled me with more pleasure than I can even describe.

"Leave if you want," I said. "Storm down the streets in a rage if that would make you feel better. But I think it would be more productive if you would just tell me the truth."

"The truth." He sneered. "Why would I tell you anything?"

"You're trying to force me into a marriage with you," I said. "A marriage that I don't want or even particularly need."

"Honesty is not necessary for a marriage."

"It's a rather good start, though."

He scowled again. From the expressions on his face, I could tell he was fighting the sweetroot once again.

Finally, he dropped into his chair. His fingers clenched and unclenched on the air in front of him. "Fine. You want the truth? I'll give you the truth. My father has designated no heir. All three of us are eligible to assume his throne. My brothers have been trying to kill me for years. Last summer, one of them nearly succeeded."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"You're the one who saved me from his curse."

I sat back in my chair, startled. "That was only a falling branch."

"It was an ill luck spell," Timothe said. "I'm a magnet for danger. Literally wherever I go. I've been thrown from three horses, nearly run over by multiple carriages, and been injured by my sparring partner twice already."

I took a delicate sip of my tea. "I'm surprised you haven't been poisoned."

Timothe leaned forward, an odd glint in his eyes. "You have the distinction of being the first to attempt it, my love."

"Don't call me that."

"I don't see why I shouldn't."

"Because I'm not your love. I'm not your anything."

"But you will be."

The strength of that conviction, under the influence of sweetroot, was horrifying. Nevertheless, I forced myself to set my cup down gently on its saucer. "I'm not marrying you."

"Why?"

"Because I don't wish to marry," I said. "You in particular."

"Charming."

"I figured I might as well trade your honesty for some of my own."

I gave him a demure smile, and Timothe bared his teeth at me in a shark's grin.

"I don't need your agreement to force you into a marriage," he said. "I can have the papers filed with or without your consent."

"That's true enough," I said. "Heaven knows I can't stop you from filing paperwork with the courts."

"So you see that resisting this is idiotic."

"On the contrary," I said. "Resisting this is the only option I have left."

He stood up at at that, rolling his eyes. I half expected him to storm out, but instead he began to pace. He moved up and down the length of the room, cracking his knuckles as he muttered to himself.

I could see the wheels turning in his head. My calmness, such as it was, was getting to him. Good. It was bloody hard to hold onto my cool head.

It was time to push him over the edge. "What's to stop me from just letting you die?"

He turned to me. "What?"

"You heard me," I said. "If your plan is to have a bodyguard in the form of a wife-- well. An unwilling wife is irritating. An unwilling bodyguard is a legitimate problem."

"You would let me die?" he said. "Your own husband?"

I lifted a shoulder. "Quite a few women adore widowhood. It's not what I imagined for myself, naturally, but it's not the worst state one can find one's self in."

I thought he'd scowl at me. Rage and threaten, stomp and storm. But instead, a sort of calm passed over his face. He strode back to his chair, seating himself upright with the kind of courtly bearing that made me want to throw him across the room. "What do you want?"

"For you to leave me alone."

"That's not what I meant," he said. The glint was back in his eyes, and it sent a shiver rolling down my spine. "What do you want to act as my bodyguard?"

"You would hire me as a bodyguard?"

He laughed, and it sounded as if it rippled up from the core of his cold, dark heart. "I can't have a bodyguard. Not in truth. That would be a display of weakness."

"And moping and pretending to lose your magic isn't?"

"Sentimentality is not weakness," he said. "Was our country not founded by warrior-poets?"

"Our country was founded by pompous windbags."

"Those are my ancestors."

"They are, aren't they?"

Timothe's smile was broader this time. There was still an edge to it, but it seemed-- genuine?

"This is going to be fun," he said.

"It's going to be your death sentence."

"You asked me to hire you, which means that your services can be bought," he said. "How much?"

I scowled at him. "I don't need money."

"Everyone needs something."

I kept the scowl firmly in place. "There's nothing I need that would make marrying you worth it."

Timothe chuckled. The sound was deep and resonant, and it sent alarm bells pealing in my head. "Am I really so bad?" he asked.

"Not everything is about you."

He smiled at that before standing again. He paced to the window, looking down into the street. The snow-bright light from outside washed onto his face, making him look like a figure from one of my sister's fairytales.

Not a handsome prince, I thought darkly. Or, well, not just one, anyway.

"I'm willing to compromise," he said. "I'd like to maintain the fiction of an engagement between us for the time being. But in exchange for you ensuring that I don't die an untimely death, I'll break it off long before we ever near the altar."

"That's not much of a compromise," I said. "What's in it for me?"

"Is it not enough to assist your sovereign in his time of need?"

"You're not my sovereign," I said. "And at this rate, you'll never be."

"But you can change that," Timothe said. "Help me reach the throne, and I will grant you anything your heart desires. One royal favor. How about that, my sweet?"

A favor. With a favor from the king I-- well, I could do anything. Possibilities spun in my head. A school in the north. A girls school where they were allowed to study more than dance and flower arranging.

"Never call me that again," I said, "and you have yourself a deal."

He swung around then. The grin on his face was almost impish. "I knew I could get through to you."

"Don't look so happy," I said.

He practically bounced across the room. "Why wouldn't I look happy? I've just secured a wonderful new fiancee."

"Spare me."

Instead of returning to his chair, this time he settled himself on the sofa next to me. It was a flagrant breach of propriety, and I suspected that he did it just to make me uncomfortable.

My suspicions were concerned when he took my hand in his and slowly brought it to his lips. "Come now. When we're in public, you'll have to pretend to be madly in love with me. You might as well start now."

"If this is your attempt at charm, it's failing," I said. I extracted my hand and reached for the bell to summon the butler. "It's been enlightening as always, your majesty."

He only smiled. "It has, hasn't it? It really has."

***

@saltnpepapig You asked to be tagged if there was more. This got out of hand, so let me know if you changed your mind.

#writersmonth2021 #writersmonth #writing #my writing #fantasy #long post

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my-soul-sings · 4 years ago

Text

just my luck: chapter 8

Fandom: Wannabe Challenge Characters: Taehee x Reader

***

Chapter 8 (full)

***

It was love and first sight when he met her back then.

He had been out hunting in the woods to practise his archery, and a flash of movement in the distance had caught his eye. Thinking it was a deer, he swiftly drew his bow and aimed his arrow at the moving target and released it.

However, instead of a deer’s cry, he heard something more human; something like a woman’s scream.

Panic had seized him and he’d tapped the sides of his horse with his feet, snapping the reins in his hands to beckon it to go faster towards the source of that sound.

It didn’t take long to find the owner of the voice: a young woman dressed in a blue hanbok. She was lying on her side next to an overturned basket with collected herbs spilling out of it onto the ground. The stray arrow he had shot lay just a few inches away from her, but it didn’t look like she had been hit by it. Taehee was relieved that she was uninjured, until he noticed that she was clutching at her ankle and wincing in pain.

He had apologised profusely to her, although she hadn’t taken as kindly to nearly being killed while collecting herbs in the woods. She had probably been scared, so he didn’t blame her when she started to scold him for being so careless, or when she asked him to pick up the spilled herbs for her. In fact, it was refreshing in a way. He was used to people being wary and walking on eggshells around him. As the eldest son in the family, people often feared that a single misstep would incur his wrath, even though he had never abused his power as other nobles often did.

Her words, on the other hand, were sharp. She would have been considered rude by any nobleman’s standards. But for some reason it comforted him. She was just a commoner, yet she treated him as an equal. They were simply two people who had met by chance in the woods. Here, he wasn’t the man with an entire family’s expectations weighing on his shoulders; he was simply him.

Maybe that was what made him fall for her that day. Taehee hadn’t even realised he was smiling to himself until she started yelling at him for finding the situation even remotely humorous.

Even in her next life, she was the same: strong-willed, stubborn, independent.

And even now, he loved her.

Although, it seemed that she couldn’t believe it for some reason. And here he thought the most difficult thing to convince her of was that he could see the future. He supposed the upside of it was that maybe she wouldn’t have such a hard time digesting the fact that he and his friends were goblins too. That was another headache he would have to worry about later...

“What’s so crazy about it?” he asked her while he parked the car. Her stare was boring two large holes in his head.

“There’s no such thing as love at first sight.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Come on, tell me the real reason you’re helping me. Please?”

The car finally rolled to a stop, and Taehee switched off the engine. “I’m not lying to you.”

“Then, you were mistaken.”

“I’m not.”

She huffed, folding her arms across her chest. This was a lot harder than Taehee thought it would be.

“The first time I met you, I’d literally just rolled out of bed and I looked like hell because I was sick. How could you fall in love with that?”

A smile tugged at his lips when he remembered that day—the day he finally found her again. He wanted to say she was beautiful even then, but she might think he was just bluffing and being glib.

It was hard to pick the right word to describe that first meeting. The regret and shame he had felt for the past three hundred years had melded together all at once. But more than that, there was happiness and joy knowing that he now had a second chance to be with her and make her happy like he had promised a long time ago.

“Seeing you that day was a miracle.” There was no other way to put it.

Her strong front began to falter, but Taehee could still see the disbelief in her eyes. Well, he expected as much. It was sort of like this back then too; in her previous life, she had been just as doubtful of his intentions every time he made up a flimsy excuse to meet her again.

“You know what, I prefer it when you’re cryptic,” she finally said, a sigh escaping her. “It’s better than the cheesy lines. You probably flirt with a lot of other girls like this.”

Her fingers curled around the car door, ready to open it, but he placed a hand over hers to stop her from leaving. “I don’t flirt with other women, I promise,” he told her. “I’m serious about you. You might not believe it now, but I’ll prove myself with time.”

She raised an eyebrow at that. “With time? It’s not like we’re going to spend that much time together.”

He smiled then. “I was going to bring this up later, but... Stay at my place for the time being, until you manage to sort things out. There’s a free room here anyway, so it’s a perfect arrangement.”

***

“We don’t have a ‘free room’ ! Where is she going to sleep?” Hansol hissed. Taehee smacked the blond on the arm, glancing over his shoulder at the closed door in case they were heard.

The three roommates were currently huddled together in Hansol’s room, while they had left the confused woman at the dining table to eat the breakfast that Taehee had prepared earlier. The older man had planned to discuss this matter with them beforehand, but with everything that happened in the morning he hadn’t gotten a chance to do it. As a result, his roommates were understandably unprepared when she asked whether there was really an available room for her to use for the time being.

Hansol had completely failed to hide the shock on his face, until he received a sharp jab to the side, courtesy of Taehee’s elbow. His attempt to play along was commendable, but still it didn’t stop him from announcing that the three men had something to discuss, before dragging Taehee and Biho down the hallway by brute force into his room for an emergency meeting.

“What were you thinking?” Hansol continued, when Taehee returned his attention to them.

“I was thinking… she could take my room. Then I could share with either you or Biho,” he said sheepishly. “Just for the time being until she has to leave.”

Both of his roommates narrowed their eyes at him. “I don’t think you’re going to let her leave,” Biho pointed out.

“I...” Taehee couldn’t refute it—of course he would try as much as possible to convince her to stay with him. The best case scenario would be if they could live together for the rest of their lives. Just the thought of staying in the same house as her, waking up to see her every morning and going to sleep after making sure she was warmly tucked in bed was enough to make him grin like a lovestruck idiot.

It earned him a hard squeeze on the shoulder by Hansol. That brat was misusing his strength now for things like this?

“Hyung, is this funny to you?” Hansol asked, prompting Taehee to immediately drop his smile and smoothen his facial expression into something more neutral. He cleared his throat. “No, not at all. Sorry.”

“I’m agreeable to letting her stay here,” Biho chimed in then. “She doesn’t have anywhere else to go, right?”

Thank the heavens for Biho’s soft heart. It was coming in handy now. Taehee nodded. “Her wrist is fractured too. There’ll be a lot of things she can’t do on her own, so it’ll be good if she stays with us.”

“I’m on the same page as you guys, but we need to figure out the sleeping arrangements,” Hansol replied with a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair and messing it up slightly. “Why did you even tell her we have a free room?”

Taehee looked away sheepishly. “Because… she would have refused to stay here otherwise. She’s a bit stubborn, and she doesn’t like depending too much on other people for help.”

“You do realise she can count the number of rooms we have in this house and figure it out on her own, right?”

“Yeah, well...” Taehee trailed off, racking his brains for any reasonable excuse, but he couldn’t. Why did his roommates have to be right about everything? In any case— “That doesn’t matter. We should just quickly decide on the sleeping arrangement.”

“Why can’t she stay in the same room as you? Your bed is the biggest— Ow.” Hansol smacked Biho upside the head for that suggestion. “That’s indecent!”

Taehee took offense at the insinuation that he would have tried anything inappropriate even if she slept in the same bed as him. With warming cheeks, he butted in, “I would never do anything inappropriate to her. But anyway,” he cleared his throat, “she’s definitely not going to accept that even if I did.”

Hansol cocked an eyebrow at that. “So you would sleep in the same bed as her if she said ‘yes’?” With exaggerated shock, he smacked his hands on both cheeks as his mouth formed an ‘o’. “Hyung, I’m seeing a different side of you today.”

“Stop that.” Taehee rolled his eyes, suppressing the urge to smack Hansol. He would only receive a harder one in return, no thanks to the younger goblin’s superior strength.

“Then, one of us has to share a room with you?” Biho asked, looking grim all of a sudden. Taehee watched realisation sink into Hansol’s expression, and he swore the blond’s face paled slightly. What was that all about?

“Why do you guys look like that?”

“You’ll get offended if I say it,” Biho said bluntly, while Hansol quietly nodded. “Maybe Hansol and I can share a room instead. You can take one of ours.”

Taehee frowned. He was already starting to get offended and it was even more frustrating because he didn’t understand why they were so reluctant to share a room with him. “What’s so bad about rooming with me?”

The duo exchanged nervous glances, and at Hansol’s nod, Biho sucked in a sharp breath and turned back to face Taehee. “Well… you’re a clean freak. You already nag at us every weekend, I don’t want it to become an everyday thing.”

“Yeah,” Hansol chimed in before Taehee could get a word of protest out. “Sorry Taehee, you know we love you, but the nagging…”

Taehee didn’t know if he should be happy or offended that he would get a room to himself despite being the one to suggest this arrangement. He didn’t have the chance to decide, because all three of them were startled by knocks on the door that came in rapid succession.

“I’m coming in,” he heard her say, and then the door opened. She stepped in, surveying the surprise on their faces before releasing a sigh.

“I heard everything. Look, I can just take the couch or an inflatable mattress if you have one. I’m fine with sleeping in the living room. I feel bad enough for imposing; I don’t want to trouble you guys further by making you switch rooms.”

“You’re not troubling us—”

“Taehee, I know you’re just being nice, but it’s really fine. I already appreciate all the help so far. And,” her eyes came to rest on Hansol and then Biho, “sorry to impose for this period of time. I’ll try to find a new place as soon as possible.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Biho said with a reassuring smile. “You’re injured, it’s not good for you to live alone for now. At least with us around we can help you when you need it.”

“Yeah, and you’re not imposing on us at all,” Hansol added cheerily. “We really don’t mind. You can take one of our rooms, it’s no big deal.”

“No, please. I can’t. I want to sleep on the couch.” Her eyes turned to Taehee, and he recognised the pleading look. She wasn’t going to change her mind, and he suspected if they continued to insist on her taking a room, she would simply walk out the door. She was too stubborn for her own good sometimes.

“Alright,” he said finally, “the couch it is.”

She brightened immediately, sending him an appreciative smile. “Thanks. I really mean it.”

“Looks like you gained some likability points with her,” Hansol whispered teasingly in Taehee’s ear. The older man flushed in embarrassment and stepped on Hansol’s foot to get him to shut up. Unfortunately he must have applied too much force, for the younger man shrieked and hopped away, cradling his sore foot.

“Sorry, there was a bug there,” was Taehee’s flimsy excuse. Then he hurried out of the room with the excuse of looking for a spare blanket and pillows for her.

He didn’t miss the amused look on her face as she observed the exchange.

#wannabe challenge #wannabe challenge fanfiction #wannabe challenge fanfic #wannabe challenge taehee #kim taehee #taehee fanfiction #just my luck #my writing

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thetakenpokemon · 4 years ago

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(Ask-arcanine) Angus@Iniko: "It seems like yer the one who stops the fightin' between them other two. I'm a peace keeper in ma flock myself. " The large arcanine says proudly. "Do ya gotta do that often? I imagine it can be hard tryin' to calm a rampaging legendary, let alone two of 'em!"

[PoV: Iniko]

@ask-arcanine

The voice catches my attention, drawing my gaze to its owner. Already several possible sentences come to mind as I prepare for my first conversation with someone who’s part of the outside world, only to stop and look at confusion as I see what I can only describe as a ‘white ball’.

Is that...a cloud? A giant wad of cotton? I’m...not exactly sure.

The more I stare at it, I start noticing other color patterns. After a few more moments my eyes widen, realization hitting me with the force of a flying boulder..

That’s not a cloud, that’s a Pokemon!

I clap my hands together, my eyes sparkling as I try my best to contain my squeal of joy. I...mostly succeed, the only sound managing to escape being a quiet squeak.

Wait, he did ask me a question. I need to compose myself, ESPECIALLY since I’m representing all of my Sisters.

“Ah, yes...” I start in an embarrassed tone, my blushing causing my cheeks to appear dark purple. “So you noticed the ‘spat’ between those two? I’m sorry that you had to see that, it happens extremely often whenever the two of them are within each other’s vicinity.”

"As for acting as a mediator? Thankfully...that’s something I rarely have to fille the role as.” I look away, my eyes narrowing in irritation. “Truth be told? I usually tend to keep to myself, letting my other Sisters take care of the various conflicts that spring up between them. The only reason why I stop the fighting here is because I’m pretty much the one saddled with that duty, apparently being the only one that cares about how others view us...” I let out a grumble. “I still very much think that it’s stupid that both of them were chosen to be together in the same group. Out of all the possible choices, they had to pick both Miyako and Yinomi...”

Letting out a sigh, I turn my eyes back to the fluffy canine. “Despite the headache, it isn’t really too difficult to calm them down.” I flick my hair with a finger, causing the lock of blue strands to brush over my shoulder. “And...well...” My expression becomes uneasy. “...as for the rampaging legendary bit...? I can guarantee that something like that won’t happen. Even with the poor first impressions, I sincerely say that they mean no harm. They’re just...polar opposites of each other, so there will definitely be a good deal of clashes between them.” I shuffle my feet slightly. “If a full-blown fight were to break out between those two? They won’t let others get caught up in their feud.”

With how frequently Orabelle and Zenoclio contact us, I seriously doubt something like that would ever happen. If they were to actually start literally fighting each other? The repercussions they both would suffer would be tremendous.

Having answered the Arcanine’s question, I find myself standing silently as I continue to look at him. The...temptation to reach a hand out and touch his fluffy mane is extremely strong.

Hopefully it wasn’t too obvious with the way I was looking at him, but I manage to contain that desire and let the familiar expression of serenity mask my emotions.

Wait, hold on...

“Earlier, did you say...flock?” I eventually ask, already several cracks forming in my attempt of appearing tranquil.

I’m not sure if ‘flock’ is a term that’s used nowadays for a group of canine Pokemon, but if that’s true...

There are more of him?!

A second squeal attempts to escape me, but I manage to brute-force the sound back into my throat and prevent it from making a mockery of me. Instead I take in a sharp breath and clench my hands, closing my eyes as I mentally scold myself for nearly embarrassing myself and my Sisters for a second time.

Taking a good several moments to wrestle my emotions until they’re under lock and key, I finally speak again - albeit in an obviously controlled manner. “As a ‘peacekeeper’, I presume that you protect others like yourself?” I wipe away the sweat that’s building on my forehead, averting my gaze again. “If so, how...many of you are there?”

Actually, maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea if he answered that. Even though I’d like to think that I have strong willpower, I have a feeling that it would mean absolutely nothing in the end when it comes to this situation.

“...not that you have to answer, that is.” I eventually add.

#pokecommunityevents #inikomedifini #ask-arcanine #ask

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chemicalmagecraft · 4 years ago

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Foresight is 20/20 Chapter 15

Usagi

"I'm tellin' ya, boss, it was some kinda monster," the now one-armed bandit explained to his leader as another bandit bandaged his bleeding stump. "It did... something to Koji, and he turned into some sorta zombie."

"And did either of those monsters rip off your arm?" the red-haired woman asked impassively. Ah yes, she would do nicely. Her body was compatible enough with my power that I wouldn't have to worry about replacing it for a while and she appeared to be an awful human being, so I wouldn't have any guilt from ending her life. Despite her looks she was probably not an Uzumaki, so I had no reason to worry about that, either. I was currently in the process of extending a light telepathic touch into all the minds present, sorting through their memories to find a way to possess her, as well as stealing what procedural memories of theirs that I found useful.

He shook his head, a fearful look in his eye. Perhaps I was a bit too harsh on him... "No, Koji bit me. I ran, and..." He shuddered. "My arm... it went numb, and the same weird markings that appeared where the... thing... touched Koji started to appear on my arm. I... I didn't risk it."

"Wise," the bandit leader said. He smiled weakly at her.

An then buried one of her knives in his gut. "Don't take any risks," she murmured into his ear as he breathed his last. That poor, sweet fool. Well, not sweet. If there was any word that could describe her less, I had yet to find it from my delving into her or her subordinates' minds. My point, though, is that a zombie is much harder to kill than a normal man. The red markings sprouted from his good arm, and with inhuman speed the freshly-made monster sank its new claws into the man who was bandaging it just moments ago. The woman snarled as the markings spread across both zombies. She managed to decapitate the original, but my second zombie evaded her blade and shambled toward another bandit, which it bit.

Long story short, I let a few of the bandits survive but my small-scale zombie apocalypse led to the deaths of most of the scofflaws.

The leader of what was now considerably fewer bandits slammed her fist on the wall in rage as she surveyed the corpses left behind. "Damn," she growled as they dissolved into red dust. "At least they won't be coming back..."

"You do care, boss!" one of the survivors cheered.

"I don't care one bit about you idiots and if I hadn't just lost most of my men I'd have killed you for that moronic comment," she said coldly. She meant it, too. "We need to recruit, and that means we need more money. Secure the base, we can't leave anyone on guard." If I had a mouth, I'd have smiled. I needed the practice, after all. Their hideout was an abandoned mine, secluded and buried in a mountain. Not to mention the gold stored within, even if I would want to give some back to the villages they were stealing from. And they were leaving it for me. How thoughtful.

kukukuku~

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Neji asked me.

I shrugged and licked my lips. "Not gonna get any better at fighting by going easy," I said.

"Yeah, but you pretty much need your powers to take me down if I activate Furnace." Neji's pseudo-jinchuriki power. We started calling it Furnace because with how unique it was it pretty much deserved a unique name. Technically, his red chakra reserves were abysmal. However, we found out that whenever he exerted himself he could activate it to essentially let himself generate more, though he'd only keep it for so long when not exerting himself.

End result, his power steadily grew the longer he fought. He also gained power each time he hit or was hit. It had a few limitations and placed strain on his body the more he used it, but as far as I knew he could theoretically fight a biju if he built up enough, maybe even Kaguya. That'd probably kill him at the moment, though. And from what it seemed, it was hard for him to use it for more than just brute force. Though that might just have been from how he could only keep it active for small intervals at a time before it started eating away at his health prevented him from training his control over it much...

"And how else am I supposed to change that?" I asked. I got into my stance. "Let's do this before I change my mind."

His eyes turned red, with a white slit pupil because of his Byakugan. "Your funeral..."

A few moments later...

"Owwwww," I groaned. "My... pride..."

"I didn't even get warmed up at all," Neji smugly remarked from where he was sitting on my spine, pinning me. I didn't ask him to get up because I was sucking off the last dregs of his red chakra. For whatever reason I couldn't assimilate Furnace, but I could still steal Neji's red chakra to heal myself and stuff.

"You okay, dude?" I asked.

"As I said, I barely got warmed up. My body is fine." After he activated Furnace for the first time, he'd ended up bedridden for an hour because of the strain it put on his body. When he started to test it, he pretended he was fine even though he kept using it past his limits. He ended up too sick to stand for weeks. It was actually around that time that he managed to figure out natural energy manipulation, probably because he was stuck in bed and bored out of his mind for so long. "I probably should let myself cool down for a bit, but I'm assuming you'll want to fight me without Furnace anyways."

I snorted. "Jerk. And here I was worried about you."

He got up. He had an amused smile. "Let's go another round, then."

kukukuku~

"I'm sore," I complained as we walked through the halls.

"You hit me a few times," Neji dismissed.

"You hit me more..."

"And whose fault was that?" I rolled my eyes and lightly punched him on the shoulder. He sage-flicked me. I was about to retort, but I felt a familiar signature when I opened up my senses, so...

"Is that Ino?" I asked, jerking my head in the direction of the compound's main entrance. I knew this was going to happen for a while. I'd been keeping tabs on her in a totally not creepy way because if it. I was also keeping tabs on Sakura, but that was more to see what the effects of that strange power were on her body. She accidentally ripped a door off its hinges more than once, which would've been pretty hilarious if it weren't for the angst it was giving her...

"That feels like her. I wonder why she's here." He used his Byakugan for a moment. I pulled out a compact mirror I'd made to be compatible with my scrying jutsu and looked at her as well. "Does she have a flower?" She was walking up to the door with a flower in her hand, yes.

I sighed. "I'm not good with flowers, but I'm pretty sure that's a forget-me-not. Pretty sure she's here for me, I'll go deal with her."

Neji insisted on hiding in the background while I greeted Ino, because she wasn't exactly subtle about her childish crush. I really hoped I wouldn't lose her as a friend, though... Just in case, I used my power to try to find the best path forward. I really hoped my life wouldn't become some sort of anti-dating simulator...

I opened the door. "Ino. Why are you here and holding a flower that symbolizes true love?" I'd learned some hanakotoba from her and some other sources, but to be honest I just knew it from looking ahead in the script.

She smiled and held it out to me. "I came to confess my true love to you, Kouki."

I took a deep breath, trying very, very hard not to sigh. "Ino, no offense, I love you like a friend, but we are both four years old and you have no idea what true love is."

That confused her. "But... you saved me?"

Why do romance stories have to be so romanticized?

Don't... don't answer that...

"I'm your friend. Of course I saved you. But I don't love you like that and you don't love me like that because as I just said, we're both children."

She lowered the flower. This was a little harsh, but she needed to hear it. "Oh. Yeah. I guess I look stupid to you now, huh?"

I shrugged. "To be fair, you have a level of wisdom appropriate to our age. It just so happens that being wise as a four-year-old is an outlier."

"What?"

I poked her in the forehead. "You're a kid. You're allowed to be stupid, as long as you're not being too big of a jerk."

She thought about that for a moment. "So... you're not mad at me or anything?"

"You're my friend. Of course not." I smiled. It probably wasn't the best smile, but at least Ino didn't run in terror... "Hey, if you want, I can show you a really cool jutsu."

She nodded. "Sure!" As I walked past, I gave Neji a smug grin when I saw his jaw on the floor. I'm sure he was expecting some kind of awkwardness.

To be fair, so was I.

kukukuku~

Chikage

Sarutobi Hiruzen sighed as he returned to his room after a long day of paperwork. Even with a shadow clone, it was just so slow. Seriously, I was so bored, and I was just watching over his shoulder! I can't even imagine having to do paperwork... He closed the door, locking it. "You're here, aren't you, Kouki?" Half right. Eh, I'll give it to him.

His shadow moved to be in front of him. "How perceptive of you," my voice seemed to come from the shadow. I couldn't exactly speak when my body was literally flat against the wall, but I could very much trick people's brains into thinking I could. My arm peeled off of the floor, keeping its pitch coloration. I raised my other arm, then used them to "pull" myself off of the floor, still in the form of a shadowy Hokage. I did a few stretches. "Man, staying in one shadow for hours kills my back, apparently. I don't even know how that works, considering the fact that I don't even have a form as a shadow..." I changed back to my humanoid form and licked my lips.

"I know that Kouki is responsible in some way, but what are you?" he asked me.

"Rude," I said, faux-offended. "You don't hear me asking you humans what you are. Though to be fair I already know."

He frowned. "You're like Kouki, but not quite. Who are you, then?"

"Did I really never tell you about me?" I paused and thought for a moment. "Or would it be better to ask if we never told you about me... I'm still not sure how pronouns work with our unique situation..."

"What, exactly, is the answer to my question?"

I shrugged. "I'm Kouki and Kouki is me. We're two halves of the same whole, at the moment."

"What are you..." He frowned and closed his eyes. "Red chakra?" he said when he opened them.

I nodded. "I've been purified of almost all of my humanity, the same as how Kouki's removed most of the red chakra from her- himself for the moment. He's weaker, I'm stronger, and because we're two separate entities we have independent thoughts and can be in two places at once, as you can tell. Sorta like a weird shadow clone, I guess. And we can recombine at any time." I sat down in midair. "Call me Chikage."

"I suppose that that makes sense... That sounds like a useful jutsu. Though why are you a girl?"

I examined my clawlike black nails. "Why not?"

"And I suppose that's also why you're wearing a frilly dress?"

"It's called gothic lolita, and the best thing about being made of chakra is the fact that I can more or less freely shapeshift. Now, sit down." I gestured behind him, where I'd pulled up a chair without him noticing. I also made an illusion that made both his chair and the air I was sitting on look like identical, ornate seats. "We have business to attend to."

"The Uchiha massacre, I assume?" I nodded. A table with a deck of fancy-looking cards "appeared" in between us. I really love genjutsu.

"In one year today Itachi will be forced to kill his entire clan, with the exception of his brother." I picked up the top card from the deck and flipped it over. The Tower. "And obviously we would prefer this not to happen." I reversed the position of the Tower. "But of course, there is a problem." I flipped over the next card, Judgement.

He sighed. It seemed he got my message. "The public is being turned turned against the Uchiha, which is in turn turning the Uchiha against the public. Until we stop that all we can do is delay the massacre..." I revealed the third card, The Devil, with Danzo as its subject. "Yes. Even though we haven't tipped our hands yet and he hopefully doesn't suspect us, Danzo is still fighting us."

"There are two paths that you can take to deal with him." I reversed the position of the Devil, causing the illustration's face to soften. "First, you could make him see the light, show him how much he's tearing the village apart to 'protect' it. Maybe you can do it because you used to be friends or something, but to be honest I doubt it, which leaves the second option." A black flame sparked from my finger, setting the Devil card ablaze. It disappeared without a trace. "Either way, he needs to be neutralized. I take it he's good at covering his tracks, considering the fact that he's made an attempt on your life without retaliation?"

He nodded solemnly. "Of course. And I take it he'd use it as evidence of my 'senility' if I attempted to pin him on it without enough evidence?"

"My eyes don't show it, meaning there's no possibility of us attempting it. Probably, though." I cocked my head. "If I were to, I don't know, figure out a way to take other objects with me when I shadow travel and use that to steal all kinds of incriminating evidence, would that work?"

He nodded. "That would work. I'll proceed assuming you don't, with how that was a hypothetical, though."

I sighed. "Yeah, that's about right. If we fail, though, I have one last idea." I revealed The Hanged Man, reversed, with Uchiha Shisui modeling for mister four-legs. "If we stop Danzo's attack on Shisui, then he can use Kotoamatsukami on the Uchiha. It's not ideal, but hopefully it'll work."

"Yes, that sounds good. Unless there's anything else, you may leave."

I faded into the shadows, taking my illusions with me.

kukukuku~

Usagi

"Alright everyone!" one of the bandits shouted, waving a weapon. "You know the drill by now, your money is ours! Give it up easily and we won't kill you!" The townspeople were afraid, but they'd clearly been through this before.

"Will you really?" I asked, walking into the village. "You may find some trouble with that."

"Who are you?" the leader asked me.

"You would already know," I said as I strolled across the road to her, "had you not murdered my puppet."

"Ah, so you're the monster he talked about." She sneered at me and drew her daggers. "You killed my men."

"I did nothing of the sort," I retaliated. "I mutated them, controlled them. You were the ones who killed them."

"All the same, you'll die."

"To be honest I am not entirely sure I can die." I slowly removed my gloves from my hands and placed them in the bag under my cloak.

"I'll test it for you, then."

"You may be able to destroy this body, but my essence has already soaked your hideout. I believe I should be able to resurrect myself there, as it were."

The woman smiled a sadistic smile. "I'm fine killing you over and over again until it sticks." She lunged at me, daggers flashing. I yanked back my sleeve and used my bare arm to block. I wasn't going to be needing my arm much longer, but I wanted to preserve the cloak. Her daggers sank into the stone of my arm, as I had made it softer. I wanted the knives as well. I capitalized on the bandit leader's momentary confusion to take off my mask and jam it onto her face. The last thing she saw before her life ended was a glowing red pearl on the backside of the mask.

I retrieved my new knives from my old arm, then took my cloak for my new body. Luckily, my new body wasn't too much larger than my old one, so the cloak still fit well enough. Along with the cloak, I'd palmed the other blood pearl (the extra-compressed pearl-shaped demon gems I was using for my Usagi persona) from my old body, causing it to crumble back into dirt within moments of me putting the cloak back on. I took my bag from the dirt and shook it off.

"Boss?" one of the bandits asked. "You okay?"

I slowly reached up to my mask and grasped the bottom. It cracked at the mouth such that the entire bottom was smoothly removed. I stored the bottom back in my bag, though, just in case I should come to need it. With my new mouth and the bottom of my nose uncovered, I took a deep breath, as if my first in a century. "No, I do not believe she is," I said. "For one, her mind and soul have been wiped from this body."

"What the hell even are you!?" one of the bandits asked.

"To be perfectly honest I'm not quite sure. I do know one thing, though." With an organic body, I no longer had problems with agility. And in particular, this new body was trained for rapid movement. As such, the two bandits nearest me were bisected in a flash with red-glowing knives, as if a hot knife through butter. Their bodies dissolved into the same red dust that the other bandits' corpses had. "You are dead. Now, are the rest of you willing to fight, or will you run in terror?" They ran in terror. Wise.

"Who are you?" a villager cautiously asked me a few minutes after I sheathed my knives. The villagers were understandably quite afraid of me.

"My name is Usagi." With the bandits gone, I'd switched to a small, personable smile. "If you wait, I should be able to bring you the money those bandits took from you."

The villager bowed to me. "Thank you so much."

#fanfiction #naruto fanfiction #naruto #Foresight is 20/20 #F20 CH15

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ampmiscfiles · 3 years ago

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The Webs We Weave: Chapter 29

Start From The Beginning

Luke groaned as he opened his eyes. Looking around, he found Danny and Jessica laid out on the ground beside him. The room they were in was plain and vacant. It clearly wasn’t meant to house anyone.

“I feel like shit.” Jessica groaned, sitting up and holding her head. “Worse than any hangover I’ve ever had.”

“That’s impressive.” Danny mumbled into the floor.

“Shut up you ass.” she huffed, shoving him.

“As fun as it is to hear you two bicker, we got bigger problems.” Luke grunted, pushing himself up off the floor and walking to the door.

“Seems like a poor attempt to keep us hostage if they put us in here.” Danny frowned.

“All the better for us.” Luke said, pulling back his fist and slamming it into the door and flying back into the wall.

“Holy shit!” Jessica screamed, rushing to Luke’s side had his entire arm looked burnt. “What the hell was that?”

“Not as poor an attempt as I thought.” Danny winced as he looked over Luke’s arm.

“It’s a-”

“High powered electric field.” Norman’s voice cut off Luke’s reply. “It would be very foolish to keep three powerful individuals like you in such a simple room. Don’t worry though, you won’t be here long. I just have some things to take care of first.”

“You better hope your little field holds up Osborn.” Luke growled. “Cause it won’t be pretty if I get my hands on you.”

“You’ll find I’m not very concerned with what actually happens to any of you.“

They could hear the dismissal in his voice.

"I’m more concerned with the idiot ‘billionaire, playboy, philanthropist’ and the special little spider I’ve managed to catch. Enjoy your stay.”

The sound of the speaker crackled out as Jessica erupted into curses.

Danny felt around his ear, taking note for the first time that his communicator was missing. Unless Jessica or Luke had theirs, there was no way to reach Frank.

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

Felicia wiped her eyes as she continued down the tunnel. They had no idea where Peter and Tony had gone. They had no idea if continuing down the tunnels would even help them at all. No one knew where they all went anyway! What if they never found them? What if Norman already had them? What if whoever Norman was working for had his own plans for Peter? It wouldn’t be the first time someone would think they could experiment on him.

She wiped her eyes again.

She wanted her Peter.

If-no-when they got him back, he was going to be on house arrest until she deemed him safe enough to return to the outside.

It shouldn’t be to hard to keep him indoors. He’d have unpacking to do in his and Wade’s new apartment after all.

She sniffled.

“Hey,” Bucky said, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her into a hug. “We’re going to find him. I won’t just leave one of my idiot brothers behind.”

“One of your brothers?” Felicia asked, her face buried in his chest.

“Yeah.” Bucky chuckled. “Steve is idiot brother number one, Peter is idiot brother number two.”

Felicia giggled as she clutched his shirt tighter, enjoying the warmth of his arms around her.

“Usually Peter would have something snarky to say at this point.” she smiled.

“All the more reason to keep going. We’ve got to find him and take care of this Norman guy. We’ve all got lives to get back to that don’t involve a lunatic with a Halloween fetish.”

“Yeah. I’ve got to tell him how you held my dainty figure in your strong, masculine arms while I cried for him.” she snickered as Bucky choked.

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

Wade Wilson knew fury. He knew the dark desire revenge could be. He had given into that desire often enough to consider himself an expert.

Having Peter taken from him brought that dark desire front and center. He itched to pull the triggers of his guns, or swing the sharp blades of his katanas through someone’s flesh.

His thoughts were dark, and bloody. His ideas involved trails of blood and dismembered body parts. No, Peter wouldn’t like it, but he didn’t have to know either. Wade would never enact such things in front of his baby boy.

Still, if Wade was seething, murderous vengeance, he wasn’t sure what to describe the thing next to him as.

At this point, Wade had seen Matthew Murdock in various stages of emotions, but this was an entirely different beast.

For the first time ever, Wade realized the ‘Devil’ in Matt’s vigilante title might mean more than he thought.

A darkness seemed to roll off his shoulders. He was to silent to be natural.

Even the brat had noticed.

While he hadn’t been really interested in talking to either of them after the big reveal of Spider-Man’s identity, the kid was even quieter now.

“So, I can’t believe I’m the one asking this, but what’s our plan?” Wade said, breaking the tense silence.

Matt stopped completely, his face turned straight ahead.

“You two will get Peter and Stark. I will handle whoever’s there.”

“You wait a sec-”

Wade grunted as he was slammed into the wall, Matt’s arm buried in his throat.

“You listen to me Wilson, I won’t repeat myself. You two will get Peter and Stark and get them to safety. We have no idea what kind of shape we’re going to find them in. Considering our situation, I seriously doubt either of them would be any use to us. I need to know Peter is safe. I trust you to follow directions and get him out.

"Bu-” Wade choked as Matt pressed harder.

“My son was taken from me. You may be dating him Wilson, but he was my kid first. I made a promise to his aunt to get him out. I can die, Wade, you can’t. If anyone can make sure Peter gets out, it’s you. That’s always going to be your role. Peter is always going to be your job to protect. If you decide to ignore me and fight whoever we find, you better hope I die there. If I don’t, I’ll make it a personal goal to find a way to make sure you do. I’ll do what I have to, regardless of what it means for me.”

Matt growled as he released Wade and shoved him to the side before turning to Harley.

“The same thing goes for you. Get Stark out.”

“And if they’re fine?” Wade coughed, standing up fully. “You know Pete isn’t just gonna stand aside.”

“Then you better make sure he’s not alone.”

Even after being surrounded by Avengers, looking at Daredevil, Harley felt he could finally see what being a real hero really meant.

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

Tony winced as his eyes cracked open to bright lights. His head throbbed and he felt sore. Peeling his eyes open slowly, he took note of his state. He was in a propped up position, but strapped to a metal table. Across from him, in the same situation, was a still unconscious Peter.

“Peter? Peter! Wake up kid!”

“He’s not going to hear you, Stark. I was very careful about how much sedative I gave him over you. I wanted us to have a few moments together.”

Tony growled as Norman stepped up beside him.

“I have to say, while I was hoping to catch two birds with one stone, you weren’t the other bird. Still, I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“Who was crazy enough to let you out?” Tony glared.

“There was a time I would have risen to that bait, but I believe that out of the two of us, I’m not the one who has anything to worry about.” Norman smirked, moving over to Peter.

“He’s something else, isn’t he?” Norman asked, running a finger down Peter’s cheek. “A marvel for sure.”

“Don’t touch him!”

“Has he ever really discussed himself with you?” Norman asked, moving away from Peter, ignoring Tony.

“He’s done research on himself, you know. Extensive research. He’s accessed my servers to an extent Harry doesn’t even know about.”

Tony frowned, wondering where this was going.

“You know, the spider’s venom he received was never meant for human experimentation…..at least not when he was bitten. My people had run multiple tests on them and had been recording the changes in their poison. It was a secret project, so there were no time constraints.

One of the very few projects I gave free reign to.

I needed it to be perfect before anyone could know about it….and they were making progress all the time.” Norman looked over at a large monitor detailing information on the spiders.

“What was the project supposed to be?” Tony asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Once properly developed, they would be harvested to create a new breed of super soldiers…ones that would put Steve Rogers to shame. It isn’t a coincidence that Peter’s abilities are greater than Captain America’s. That was always the point.

"You just said it was never meant for human experimentation!”

“I said the spider that bit Peter wasn’t meant for human experimentation. None of the spiders in that batch were even remotely ready to be harvested. Truthfully, the fact he’s even alive is incredible. The venom literally altered his DNA.” Norman paused, looking from the screens to Peter.

“He’s far to precious to be out unsupervised. You had no idea what you had with him.” Norman said, glaring at Tony. “He nearly died the time he saved your ass by protecting your precious Stark property!”

“How about when you attacked him!”

Norman laughed as Tony fumed, guilt over the entire event of Peter’s Homecoming night gnawing at him.

“If you ever thought Peter’s life was really in danger, you’re more of an idiot than I took you for. While I didn’t know who was under the mask, I would never have killed them. They were far more valuable alive than dead. That said, he wasn’t going to come in quietly, and his abilities made close combat difficult to achieve. Naturally, I had to up the ante to acquire him. Admittedly, I underestimated the intelligence under the mask. It wasn’t simply brute force that beat me. Peter’s mind works amazingly fast to try and analyze everything around him.”

Tony didn’t respond, he didn’t need to. He was fully aware of the brilliance of Peter’s brain. While he would never flat out say anything to Harley, if Peter had decided to return to him and SI, he would easily put him as the main inheritor to the company.

Harley was smart and could most likely run the business perfectly but , he could be rash and come off a bit abrasive. Peter on the other hand, was extremely intelligent with a calm and friendly personality. Out of the two, people would most likely be more willing to deal with Peter than Harley…..kind of like how people were more willing to deal with Pepper than him.

Still, none of that mattered if they didn’t get out of here.

“Oh yes, you know all about him though, don’t you?” Norman sneered, sarcasm heavy in his voice.

“You know all about his perfect grades from the moment he entered school till he left. You know all about his life before his uncle passed.”

“I know they haven’t had it easy-“

“All you know about him is what any idiot can look up. You know nothing about what the Parker’s have experienced emotionally. Peter and Harry have been friends since they were very young. I’ve watched Peter grow up. I was around when he lost his parents. I went with my wife and son to the funeral. His parents were brilliant scientists.”

Norman chuckled, looking at Peter.

“He definitely took after them.”

Taking a breath, Norman moved to a small table and picked up a glass cube.

“I had hoped spending time with Peter would have been good for Harry. Maybe get him on the right track. Unfortunately, Harry will never amount to anything.”

“He seems to be running Oscorp just fine .” Tony sneered. “Better than you.”

“I’ll give it to him on one thing.” Norman said, walking up to Tony. “He made a smart move hiring Peter for the pharmaceutical department.”

Tony glared as Norman stopped before him. A sly grin spread across the man’s face as he held up the glass cube.

“Anyway, what do you think?”

Tony looked into the cube, taking in the small spider suspended inside. There was nothing special in the way it looked, but he had a pretty good idea of its importance.

“I’m sure you know why I’m showing you this. It’s the very spider that bit Peter.” he twirled the glass.

“It was found on the floor after the field trip had ended. At the time, we all assumed the spider had just died being outside of it’s controlled environment.”

Norman chuckled at himself.

“I’m honestly ashamed of myself for taking so long to put the pieces together on where Spider-Man might have gotten his abilities. Of course, when I did, I tried to offer him a place as a partner. With his abilities, given by me by the way, we could have made a formidable team.”

“How’d that work out for you?”

“It wasn’t to surprising.” Norman shrugged. “Spider-Man had chosen the path of the hero long before I got to him. It was just disappointing.”

“When did you figure out it was Peter under the mask?”

“Oh, I have you to thank for that.” Norman laughed.

“Think back, Tony Stark . Think back to the early days of a certain webslinger. Think back to a moment in time where you failed him by not trusting him over your own issues.”

Tony frowned, feeling like he should know where Norman was going, but missing something.

“Does the moniker of ‘Vulture’ ring any bells?”

Tony’s eyes widened.

“Oh yes. He was willing to keep Peter’s secret, until he was offered his freedom. It’s amazing what people will do for the chance to get what they want. For Toomes it was his family, for me, well, he’s right across from you.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re so much better?” Norman asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Have you not been pushing him to rejoin your little hero group? From what I’ve gathered, Spider-Man has never seemed to be interested in joining the Avengers. In fact, I’d say he went out of his way to avoid you.”

Tony’s jaw tightened.

“I guess my return worked more in your favor than you want to admit.” Norman smirked, moving back over to Peter.

“He should be waking up soon, then the real fun will begin.”

“What are you planning?”

“Well, I can’t let him out to wander the streets, now can I? No. So, he’ll have to be kept inside. Luckily, I’ve got some….. volunteers testing out some new features I plan to use in Peter’s room.”

“You’re going to keep him locked up like some prisoner? Yeah, I’m sure that will work out for you.”

“Well, it will only be temporary.” Norman shrugged. “Once he learns his place, he’ll be able to leave his room.”

Tony growled, pulling against his restraints.

“How cute, Stark. Do you really think you’ll be able to break those without your fancy suit?”

“You’re going to regret this Osborn!”

Norman just smirked, looking over at Peter as he started to stir.

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

Frank grunted in annoyance as he checked over his gun for, what felt like, the hundredth time.

He was growing restless, not to mention the increasing feeling something was wrong.

“Hell with this.” he said, standing up.

“This stealth shit ain’t working for me.”

Grabbing his bag, Frank left the rooftop and headed off where he had watched the members of the Defenders go.

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

“We gotta get out of here.” Jessica huffed, stalking around their prison cell.

“Well, until we figure out a way around that field, we arn’t going anywhere.” Danny sighed.

“It would be nice to have the nerd with us.” Luke mumbled.

“That little shit is definitely taking me out drinking once this is all over.” Jessica grit her teeth, kicking the wall to relieve frustration.

Danny watched as she stalked off toward the other side of the room, not bothering to look where her foot had made contact with the wall.

He looked however.

His eyes widened at the small dent and hairline crack in the wall.

Maybe they weren’t as trapped as they thought.

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

Peter groaned as he struggled to regain consciousness. His head hurt slightly, and his eyes felt heavy.

Making to move his hand to rub his eyes, Peter snapped to awareness as he felt the restraints work against him.

“Wha-Tony?” Peter croaked out, throat dry.

“Peter!”

“Isn’t that cute.” Norman sneered. “Tony Stark all concerned for Peter Parker’s well being.”

“I’m not the one that drugged him and strapped him down!”

Peter took the two men arguing as a chance to fully assess his whereabouts and his situation.

He and Tony were both restrained and at the mercy of a psycho.

‘ Great. ’

Peter internally huffed.

He needed to figure out a way out of the restraints, but he could still feel the drugs in his system. He wouldn’t be anywhere near as good in a fight right now as he would be normally.

Still, he had to chance it.

He couldn’t let Tony stay here.

Norman wasn’t after Tony, despite their long time rivalry. That made Tony expendable. Expendable people usually didn’t last in these situations and despite their history, Peter couldn’t let anything happen to the man.

Spider-Man didn’t abandon anyone.

Twisting his wrists, Peter tested the strength of the restraints and various angles and points. Infuriatingly though, they were solid at all points.

“Well now, Peter.” Norman smiled. “Let’s help you get a better look at things.”

Peter watched as Norman moved to the side of the table and pressed a button. The table gave a slight vibration as it tilted forward, putting him into an almost standing position.

“There we go. Now we can all properly see each other.”

Peter held back his glare, refusing to give anything away as to how he was handling things.

“I’m so glad to see you again, Peter.” Norman smiled, an unsettling scenarity in the action. “Our time together was so short last time.”

“You’re the one who left.” Peter replied.

“Well, I had a few things to take care of.” Norman shrugged. “But everything is how it should be now.”

Norman moved directly into Peter’s eyeline, his expression sent Peter’s Spider-Sense screaming.

Norman reached out a hand, grabbing Peter’s chin roughly.

“Now, Peter, how about we finish what we st-”

“Osborn!”

Peter froze.

He knew that voice.

He knew that voice so well.

The missing puzzle piece had finally fallen into place

Norman grinned before dropping his hand and pulling Peter’s mask back over his face.

“Can’t have just anyone knowing your little secret, now can we?” Norman chuckled before turning to the new arrival.

“I apologize for the lack of a proper delivery but ,” Norman chuckled. “I don’t believe we’ll have to wait much longer. As you can see, we have something he’ll be very anxious to have returned.”

“We better not.” the man threatened, before turning to both Peter and Tony.

Tony looked between the two men. It was obvious they were talking about Peter, but what business did either of them have trying to lure in Deadpool?

That was who they were after, right?

“I must say, Tony Stark was not who I was expecting to see when I came here.” the man chuckled before focusing his full attention on Peter.

“Hello again, Spider-Man.”

Peter looked at the man before him, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“How’s it going, Fisk?”

#TWWW #the webs we weave #Peter parker #wade wilson #matt murdock #avengers #felicia hardy #fanfiction

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thisentertaining · 4 years ago

Text

Instinctual - Instincts to Guide in the Storm

Zuko isn't sure what prompts him to start talking.

Maybe it's the possible impending doom.

Maybe it's the novelty of having someone to tell who might care.

Maybe it's just that kind of storm. The one that makes you want to curl up around a fire to tell stories, and he and Sokka aren't exempt from that even on a perilous ship.

Regardless of the reason, Zuko begins to tell the story that the Freedom Fighters never bothered to even ask about.

Read on Ao3

Instinctual Pt 1

Sokka and Zuko leaned the entirety of their weight against the ropes holding the sail as the wind ferociously attempted to wrench it from this side to that. As one particularly powerful gust of wind pulled at the abrasive rope, Sokka yelped and made to drop it, to retreat into the small cabin like that fisherman and pray that the small ship would somehow survive, but Zuko didn’t so much as falter. It was as though the laws of physics warped in response to his stubbornness. Though the wind should have far overpowered him, the boy simply refused to move, and nothing the rocking seas or the rushing wind did could tear him from his goal.

Finally, the pair managed to force the sail into position just enough to make it so that the vessel was facing the waves instead of allowing the waves to hit the side of the boat. Sokka rushed to throw a makeshift storm anchor out the back of the boat and the pair collapsed as much of the sail as they felt they safely could before dropping onto the deck, mostly sheltered by the cabin, but close enough to the workings of the ship to get to them in an instant if needed.

Sokka let out a loud sigh of relief as he sat down, and couldn’t help casting the other teen an impressed look. Zuko was breathing very heavily, arms collapsed at his sides as though he couldn’t bear to move them. Kid was strong for someone who had been trapped in a cave. Sokka had known that, distantly. He’d seem him climbing over the great divide like a mountain-goat-squirrel, but it was different here. This could not be attributed to flexibility or finesse, it was all brute force and tenacity.

“I can’t believe we did it!” He said, suddenly giddy with relief and wanting to share his sudden joy. Zuko cast him a soft, exhausted smile. “You man, you just, stuck with it. I swear that should not have worked, but you just kept going until it did. Awesome.”

Zuko didn’t say anything for several long moments, and Sokka was happy to sit in his relief, pelted by rain and constantly shifting to try and stay upright on the roiling boat.

“Never give up without a fight.” Zuko said suddenly.

“Huh?”

“When I was a kid, my Uncle sent me a souvenir. It was a knife with the engraving ‘never give up without a fight’.”

Sokka snorted, then coughed when the motion send rainwater up his nose. When he could breathe again, the boy said, “Wow so you got like, one present and were like, ‘that’s it, this is my life motto from now on’.” He laughed. It just fit Zuko so perfectly. This was a kid who had been chained in a cave for literal years and still yelled at his captors. This was the boy with no stamina that practically ran himself into the ground to get to Gaipan and save it.

“Not exactly.” Zuko said, so softly that Sokka had to fight to hear it over the roaring of the waves, wind, and rain.

“What do you mean?” Sokka asked, just as quietly. There was a heavy pressure in his chest, one that was entirely separate from the fear and adrenaline that came from sitting in a storm. This was about to be a Serious Conversation.

“One time… I didn’t. I gave up without fighting. I’ll never make that mistake again.”

Sokka didn’t ask. He didn’t look at the scar. He didn’t push. Maybe that was why Zuko actually answered. Maybe it was because Sokka had freed him, and Zuko thought it was only right that he leaned the truth that the Freedom Fighters had never bothered to ask. Maybe it was because on this roiling, rioting, flailing excuse for a boat, the next day did not seem certain, and Zuko wanted at least one person to know what had happened to him.

Maybe it was simply the kind of storm that prompted people to huddle together and tell stories by the fire, and they were not exempt from the desire even out here on the waves.

“Back… home, in the fire nation I…” Wait. There was truth, then there was stupidity. Zuko did not always think things through, but… well, when you were surrounded by people who talked endlessly about defeating the Fire Lord, it didn’t take a genius to know that you shouldn’t tell them that he was your father.

He was giving truth tonight, but he was hoarding it as well, just as he had in the cave. He’d hoarded his identity, his inability to bend, his weakness. His people had learned from the dragons, he knew how to hoard. Just as his father hoarded land and his sister hoarded praise. He would give some of his hoard away, but was keeping the brightest jewels for himself.

“I belonged to a noble family.”

Sokka snorted. “No duh.”

“What?”

“I mean, that bit was kinda obvious.”

“No it- how?”

“You just your kinda whole… deal.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He roared, his voice loud enough to be crystal clear over the deafening wind and waves.

“Nothing, nothing.” Sokka said, and Zuko narrowed his eyes but decided to leave it.

The moment had definitely ended though. “My family was… extremely influential, and when I was around ten there were some… there was an incident, and I personally found myself in a much more important position.” He’d gone from fifth in line to the throne to second, from never imagining himself sitting upon the flaming dais to being groomed to take over.

It had been a lot.

“But I…” Had a sister who was so close on his heels that they were blistered. A sister who was favored and who could very well take over his destiny if he didn’t fight for it. “Wanted to prove myself. So when I was thirteen, I convinced Uncle to sneak me into a war council. He said that he would but made me promise to keep quiet.”

An impossible feat. Zuko should have known. If it had been anyone but Uncle, he would think that it had been an intentional sabotage to put him in a position where he had to hold his tongue. If Father was thinking, he probably would have done it long ago to have an excuse to… well do exactly what he did. Not Uncle though, he had always believed in Zuko far too much. Iroh had trusted him, and Zuko had failed him just as he had failed everyone else.

“I’m guessing you weren’t quiet?” Sokka said softly as Zuko continued to be silent, lost in thought and self-incrimination.

“I- I couldn’t. What they were planning- it was horrible. And no one else was saying anything. I couldn’t just let them- I couldn’t.”

Sokka watched him with solemn eyes. Zuko wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Was it something noble? Did he imagine Zuko had even then been questioning the war? Was he imagining that Zuko was speaking out about imprisoning earthbenders? Destroying crops? Marching through poor towns? What would he say if he knew that Zuko had simply been protecting the lives of his people? Of soldiers? Would he care that they were new recruits being sent to slaughter?

“I argued against the general in the middle of the meeting in front of the Fire Lord himself. F- The Fire Lord said that it was an act of complete disrespect, that my actions were shameful and without honor. He said that the only way to resolve it was though an Agni Kai, a firebending duel.”

“Oh. Are you- were you a good bender?”

No. “I had the best masters in the land. I wasn’t their best pupil, but… I was confident that I could beat the general who- who made the suggestion.”

“I guess he was better than you thought.” Sokka said carefully, his eyes straying to the scar for the first time.

Zuko let out a bark of laughter that was more pain than anything else. “I don’t know. I’ll never know. When I got to the arena… he wasn’t my opponent. I had been disrespectful in the war room of the Fire Lord. When I made that challenge, I wasn’t just disrespecting the general.”

“You were disrespecting the Fire Lord.” Sokka breathed, his voice full of wonder. “You fought the Fire Lord?” His voice squeaked at the end.

“No. I didn’t. I never intended to fight the Fire Lord. I didn’t want to- I wasn’t trying to- I was a loyal-“ Son. He wanted to be a loyal son. But he couldn’t say that. “I was loyal, and I didn’t want to fight my Fa-my Fire Lord.”

“You gave up without a fight.” Sokka said softly, remembering the beginning of his confession.

“I begged for mercy. But the Fire Lord has none. He burned me when I was on my knees, cupped my face as if in comfort and-“ Pain. Days and days of pain. “He claimed that by refusing to fight I showed extreme cowardice. He banished me, never to return to my family or home. Never to regain my honor. I was still injured when the boat ferrying me kicked me off. Jet found me a few days later and… you know the rest.”

Zuko’s mouth suddenly went try, as though he couldn’t bear to speak another word. He had never actually… told anyone about this before. He wasn’t sure how widespread the news had gotten after, Father would have tried to quiet it as much as possible but with something like this it was hard to say how successful he might have been.

He’d told his story though, and while that did not change his circumstances, it somehow eased the pressure on his chest, just a bit. Taking a deep breath, the boy looked to the sky, watching the far off haze of the moon attempting to permeate through the thick clouds. His eyes narrowed when a spot of… something passed in front of the moon. Was that-

He wasn’t able to think beyond that as a particularly high burst of wind and wave sent the ship careening and he scrambled to hold onto something lest he be thrown overboard.

______

Sokka eyed Zuko in the fierce wind, squinting against the rain that battered against his eyes. He… wasn’t sure what to take from this. On the one hand, good news: the Fire Lord was an even worse person than they thought and barbecued random kids for talking at inappropriate times.

Side note, this is also even more incentive to keep Aang from this man at all costs. Except in a ‘coming to defeat him’ kinda way.

On the other hand though, Zuko had made a point to say that he was loyal to the Fire Nation (is loyal? Had been loyal?). How deep does this loyalty go? Have they already said too much? Would Zuko betray them for his people? What does he consider honorable?

Why had Sokka thought that spending years imprisoned by the Earth Kingdom would make him more eager to fight his people?

But there was that bitterness he had whenever he spoke about the Fire Lord. There was the way he spoke about how the man had burned him, hurt him, a child.

There was the way he didn’t question helping the refugees through the canyon, despite knowing that they were running from his nation.

Sokka opened his mouth to ask, because ‘hey are you loyal to the Fire Nation or not’ was a great friendship and trust building conversation that they should definitely have when it would be easy to make his death look like an accident, but before he could say a word a sharp wave brought brackish water into his mouth. The teen alternated between spitting out the water and clutching a part of the boat for dear life as the waves rocked it to and thro.

“Sokka!” Zuko suddenly shouted, pointing to the sky, at first the Water Tribe teen didn’t see anything, then he did. Appa was swooping through the storm, diving for the boat. “Get the fisherman!” Zuko commanded as he fought with the ropes once more, attempting to keep them aloft until the bison could arrive. Sokka ran into the small cabin, where the grumpy man was huddled under a table, and pulled him up. The man yelped and attempted to protest but Sokka barely heard as he forced him onto deck.

Sokka pulled the man to the bow, which rose and fell with the waves. Zuko abandoned the ropes as Appa got closer and joined them. Appa lowered enough for Aang to drop on a rope, commanding those on the boat to grab on. Sokka grabbed the rope first, holding it steady for the fisherman and Zuko to grab. With a fierce burst of airbending, Aang utilized the natural winds around them to send the rope flying with a snap, arching it so that it would land the three figures safely in the saddle.

At least, that was the idea.

As soon as the rope crested its highest point, the movement, rain, and coarse rope proved to be too much for the elderly man, and he lost his grip. The man went flying through the air, spitting curses at Aang as he went.

“No!” Zuko shouted, immediately dropping the rope after him, with no regard to his health and personal safety.

“Zuko!” Sokka yelled as he landed safely in the boat. Aang yelped and used wind once again to send the rope flying through the air, this time Zuko grabbed it with one hand, the other wrapping around the old man’s waist. By that point the rope was half-underwater and had lost its momentum. Sokka and Katara had to pull them up as Aang fought to keep the bison from going under.

Finally they pulled a shaking Zuko and shuddering man from the water. Sokka clapped him on the back with a grin. He still didn’t know if the firebender was still loyal to the Fire Nation. He didn’t even know if he was really… for Aang. But he did know that he was a good person. And for the moment, that was enough. They could work on the other stuff.

Sokka flashed a quick grin at his sister as they safely flew away. “So… what did you and Aang get up to while we were gone?” He asked, striving for a bit of normalcy after a night of near-death experiences and horrifying revelations.

“We just… talked.”

“Hm. What did you talk about?”

She didn’t answer. Sokka couldn’t really blame her though, he wouldn’t have wanted to answer that question either.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #atla #Atla:The Storm #Zuko #Prince Zuko #Sokka #Fanfiction #My Fanfics #Instinctual Fanfic

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