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nosferatvpussy · 4 years ago

Text

distorted lullabies [chapter XI]

Word count: 5,131

Warnings: vulgar language

Pairing: Dracula x female reader

AO3 link

Author’s note: My beta reader gave me a few suggestions and it's truly something that's been bugging me, so I decided it would be better to check with you guys, my readers. I'm writing this story purely for fun so I don't mind changing things. I'm not well versed in writing Character x reader stories and I'll admit the whole concept sometimes escapes me (ahem, fully does) and my beta pointed out that it's become an OC x Dracula fic. This chapter in particular touches into something that may upset some people if they're really invested into the reader POV, which is religion. You may not agree with the reader's thoughts regarding christianity, and I don't want to needle anyone's beliefs because this is a reader insert. My question is: would you guys prefer if I gave the reader a name, in which case she becomes a fully realised character? I'll still avoid describing her because then you can picture her however you like. Longwinded question, I know, but I thought it deserved some explanation. On a more positive note, I made two spotify playlists; one is oriented towards alternative songs (mostly) and the other one is purely made up of classical pieces.

Regardless, ENJOYYY

________________________________________________________

The rest of the trip would have been completely silent if it wasn’t for Portishead’s music.

I barely looked at Dracula as he dropped me off at the Airbnb I had rented. He parted with a promise to meet me at the wedding tomorrow and an indifferent goodbye, although when I made it all the way to the flat’s second floor, his car was still parked at the front door. When I turned around to throw my backpack on the bed and looked out the window again, the black BMW was gone.

Not even the wide array of DVD stacks inside the Airbnb managed to keep my mind off of Dracula.

After settling in and having a shower, I occupied myself with sitting in front of the TV in the living room and analysing the owner’s collection – an impressive one at that – however, when I picked up a copy of The Rocky Horror Picture Show I could almost hear Count Dracula laughing as I sang along to Frank N Furter and immediately put the disc back to where it belonged. So I chose something harmless to watch.

As Mulder and Scully bickered about aliens on the television in another episode of The X-Files – really, props to the Airbnb owner for supplying his entire collection to guests – I glanced at my phone for the hundredth time.

Would Count Dracula be a Scully or a Mulder? Such a silly thing to wonder about, nevertheless I was curious about it. Perhaps if he was here with me, watching TV and making his remarks about what was going on, I would manage to concentrate on the episode playing.

It had worked out fine last time. Well, for the most part. As long as we didn’t watch anything with sexual undertones such as Interview with the Vampire, I would be fine. For how long, was the question.

I frowned as I rewinded the last 10 minutes on the DVD player. Scully was lying in a hospital bed while Mulder screamed at a doctor when just two minutes ago Mulder had been talking to their boss. Obviously, I had missed more than two minutes, too stuck in my thoughts about the Count.

I glanced at my phone again.

He’d be gone tomorrow. And I needed to know if he would like Scully or Mulder better.

I took my phone between shaky fingers.

A small part of me, one that was still thinking straight, suggested that maybe I shouldn’t do this on account of that kiss earlier. But nothing of what had happened during that trip mattered anymore, not when I would never see him again. Whatever I did today would have no consequences.

Are you there?

Count Dracula replied just as Mulder screamed at the doctor, and I still had no idea why.

Yes.

I typed a message as quickly as I could before I regretted this.

I can’t sleep.

I chewed on my lip as I waited for a response but when none came, I started typing another text and then erased it. Inviting him over might develop into less innocent things than simply watching TV.

I curled my toes. I came this far. I resisted him this long. There was no reason to jump ship at the last second.

Tomorrow he’d be carted away by the Foundation and while I would very much like to do more than kiss Count Dracula, the idea of giving myself to him and then never feeling his touch again seemed unbearable.

Do you want to take a stroll through Gloucester?

I’ll be there in a few minutes.

His reply came so quick that he must have been staring at his phone, waiting for me to send another text.

I rushed to change from pyjamas into jeans, jacket and boots. I had just finished fixing up how I looked when my phone buzzed. Without bothering to read the text, I left the flat, heart beating like a hummingbird’s as I went down the stairs to the building’s front door.

Count Dracula wore the same leather jacket as earlier, waiting for me just as he had waited hours ago in London.

“Did you walk all the way here?” I asked as soon as I noticed the BMW’s absence.

“I was in the neighbourhood.” He smiled.

“Exploring?”

He smirked but said nothing.

“Eating, then,” I concluded. “Drinking, sorry. I forgot you get stuck in the technicalities.”

“You get used to it,” he said, extending a hand for me.

I gasped when I placed my hand on his. Someone else’s blood had made his temperature rise from cadaveric cold to match my own but I was too fascinated by how plump his flesh felt to care about an unknown person’s death.

“You don’t feel like a statue,” I said, squeezing his hand to make sure I wasn’t imagining things.

“You get used to it,” he repeated. “Come. I found a lovely place to break into.”

He pulled me to him so fast that my stomach lurched. I almost lost balance but he wrapped an arm around my shoulders to steady me.

“May I remind you that I’m human and next time you do this I might throw up in your shoes?”

My vision was still swimming and I had to lean my body on his until I could see properly.

“I’ll warn you next time.”

I craned my neck to look up at him, noticing absently that I had my arms around him in a hug. Light coming from a neighbouring house glowed behind his head likening a saint’s halo. Horns would be more suitable, and more alluring.

“Will I like this place you intend to take me?”

“More than I will,” he said, securing me in an inescapable hold, one I had no desire to fight. “It’s a cathedral.”

“Gloucester Cathedral?” I loosened my arms around him. “It’s a holy place,” I said and he cocked an eyebrow. “Can you even set foot in there?”

He snorted.

“I can waltz with you in there while reciting biblical verses as long as I don’t look upon the cross.”

“I’d like to see that. A healthy dose of blasphemy is always fun.”

A slow smile spread on his lips.

“Then you’ll love it.”

To my dismay, he untangled himself from me but still kept an arm around my shoulders in a half embrace. Instead of avoiding him, I circled his waist with my arm, basking on how uncharacteristically warm he felt in comparison to the chilly night.

Dracula looked at me with furrowed eyebrows, though a grin creeped on his mouth. For the first time, we had exchanged roles – he, doubtful that I was so willing to touch him, and I, sure of what I was doing ever since I struck that deal.

Pity it wouldn’t last long.

“Lead the way,” I told him.

_______________________________________________________

Except for a couple of stray cats and a dog, Count Dracula and I were the only ones wandering through Gloucester’s narrow streets and quaint façades. The moon was hidden but with how bright it glowed, even beneath a swath of cotton clouds, I would guess it was full.

I relied more on Count Dracula’s eyes than on the unsteady old street lights that seemed to hail from the 18th century, but I didn’t need his vampire eyes to catch a glimpse of a towering Gothic building, concealed behind a row of modern restaurants and stores, all closed now that it was closer to dawn than to dusk, wedged inside small houses stylised in Tudor architecture.

“Here we are,” said Dracula just as we rounded the corner and faced Gloucester Cathedral.

It was an enormous and monstrous thing yet beautiful all the same in all its complicated detail of spiking roofs and pointed narrow glass that composed huge windows amongst blocks of stone. Sculptures of saints and kings stood watch at the front, arching above the intricately woven entrance.

“Is there an alarm this time?” I asked as we approached the door.

“What for? Christians trust their god to keep it safe. There is someone sleeping inside, though. A priest if I had to guess, so we’ll have to be very quiet.”

“There goes my plan,” I said, although I had none. No space for calculated words and carefully measured tone there. All I had left was impulsivity, and saying things without really meaning them provided me with a rush unlike any other.

“What plan is that?” Dracula questioned, side-eyeing me.

I shrugged.

“What does it matter if I can’t be noisy now?” I snickered. I would have tried being reckless more often if I’d known I would earn so many bewildered looks from Count Dracula. “Open the door.” I bidded, staring at him. “Please?”

Something crossed his gaze, something that made me wish that he would press me against a wall and demand that I tell him about my sordid plan. But he did no such thing.

“Since you asked nicely,” he said, just as he had done earlier during our trip.

Dracula forced the door open with the same ease I would have opened an unlocked door.

My mouth was a little dry but the thrill of doing something forbidden still made my heart thud, despite the fear of being caught. Perhaps I’d been developing a new habit of doing dangerous things such as making deals with vampires, and getting excited at the prospect of desecrating a church with one. I would have to find a substitute to that after he was gone but I couldn’t think of anything that could compare.

I followed Count Dracula into the cathedral’s nave.

The massive round pillars surrounding the aisle took away some of the simplicity of the ribbed vaulting, which derived from early Gothic architecture if I remembered my art classes correctly. There weren’t any pews positioned in usual rows as most churches did, and from where I stood I couldn’t spot an altar. The place seemed bare without them but it was still imposing, as most religious things were, I supposed.

The ground's yellowed stone, that one day may have been white, was dappled with a luminescence of blue, red and purple. I whirled around, looking up to find out where that variety of colours came from, and grinned upon finding a stained glass window that extended all the way up to the ceiling.

“I never liked churches as a child,” I whispered to Dracula, ignoring that he probably knew it. “They creeped me out. I couldn’t understand how some people felt love inside them, when all I felt was judgement. And like I was being watched by saints, angels and Jesus.” I grimaced as I admired the pictures on the glass. Saints looked back at me with their saintly stare. Jesus Christ was pictured at the centre pane. “My parents weren’t very religious but my grandmother was one of those fervent catholics, full of guilt and fear. She used to take me to mass every other Sunday at Westminster Abbey until one time when I started arguing with the priest during his sermon about how illogical the bible is at some points.” I glanced at Dracula and saw him chuckling soundlessly. “I was 13. My grandmother was so humiliated and angry at me that she never took me to mass again.”

“And you were relieved to never have to go back again,” Dracula supplied. “How do you like churches now?”

“I like them as long as I’m just visiting. And I’m not scared of them anymore, not since I won that argument with the priest.” I looked at him. He was making a point of observing the rest of the church instead of gazing at the stained glass as I was. “You were raised christian, too. And if Wikipedia is right, you fought in the name of God.”

“In another life.” He bobbed his head, lacing his hands behind his back as he wandered down the aisle. “Not the foolish, gullible and fearful catholic as Justina was.” Dracula cast a brief glance at me. “My late wife.” He explained but I had already surmised as much.

Since he had mentioned her without my needing to ask, I felt the urge to goad him with more questions. The urge to see that odd semblance of grief in his face as I had seen weeks ago. The reminder that he was capable of emotion, still. But I left it alone. It was possible he would shut down and assume that distant and impenetrable façade, and then our last date would be over much faster than I was ready for it to be.

“No, you were more the type to rip people to shreds when they didn’t condone your faith.” I lowered my voice mid sentence when my words echoed.

Following him down the aisle, I noticed that a big apparatus was raised up in a wooden structure ahead of us and it looked like an organ. Had we been alone at the church, I would have climbed up the stairs to knead a few keys just to hear the resounding, spine-chilling noise it would make.

“Precisely.” Dracula laughed.

“Did you ever do it for fun?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you did.”

He turned around, stopping at the centre of the aisle a few metres away from me.

“For fun, for boredom, but most of all to instill fear into my enemies’ hearts. Does it still bother you?”

I stopped.

It had when I first found out about it. And although he had just admitted torturing people simply for the fun of it, it didn’t bother me nearly as much as before. I ought to have been disgusted or disapproving, at the very least. It was a little worrying that I didn’t feel any of those things, like I had just discovered a part of me that was capable of terrible cruelty.

“No,” I said. “Not anymore.”

Dracula’s grin was all teeth as if that answer was everything he had been longing to hear.

“You’re not nervous tonight.” He was still grinning. “You’re usually nervous around me.”

“Usually,” I agreed, smirking.

Was this how it felt? Not having to worry, not caring about what could happen, not being cautious about every little thing, not minding that he had done horrible deeds and I still wanted his lips on mine?

This foreign feeling swelled inside my chest and my smirk became a grin.

“Let’s see the rest of the place,” I said, beckoning him with my hand. “There is a door back there and I think I saw something interesting.”

I didn’t wait to see if he would follow and simply turned around, heading to my right where I had seen a long corridor dappled with more colourful light from stained glass. Through an arched portal, I could see the extent of the corridor but it still didn’t prepare me when I crossed the threshold.

What I thought was only one corridor, was actually two positioned in an L-shape and I stood at the cusp of both. Elaborate lines composed patterns on the vaulted ceiling and walls, fanning into long and curved designs etched in stone and ending in what resembled flowers. Light poured from a collection of stained glass windows and with the way each corridor bent at their ends, I supposed the structure continued until it formed a rectangular. I squinted past a clear glass on a windowpane, and smiled. I could make out shapes of trees and what looked to be a fountain outside. These weren’t corridors but covered walks surrounding a square. Westminster Abbey had something similar.

“Gorgeous,” whispered Dracula.

I turned around to see what he was admiring. His stare was fixed on me, and I had a feeling it had been the same way when he spoke. He moved towards me and the stained glass bathed his face in red. Dracula placed one of my hands on his shoulder and took the other one into his own, extending our joined hands up in a dancing stance.

“I’ll step on your feet,” I warned as he splayed a hand on my back. “I’m not a good dancer.”

“I’ll teach you. Waltzing is easy, and I told you we would waltz.”

In a hushed voice as to not wake whoever slept inside the cathedral, Count Dracula instructed me how, his knees touching mine ever so slightly to point me in the correct direction as I stared down at our feet rasping on the floor, his hands pushing and tugging gently as we swayed to silence.

After a little while, I felt confident enough not to step on his feet, although I had done it a few times during his lesson, and looked up at his face. We were both a mess of colours and blurry features clouded in darkness as we danced out and into the stained glass light. The air was so chilly that my lungs burned with the effort of dancing, his hand so unrealistically warm on mine as we danced pointlessly – it was surreal, and filled me with an unusual melancholy that I wouldn’t experience something like that again and happiness because I had let myself experience it.

“I dare not ask for love–” Dracula’s words cut through the silence and I drew a sharp intake of breath for what he was about to say. His next words were accompanied by the cadence people used to recite something, which removed some of the impact of what he had first said and I relaxed.

“ I dare not ask for love – with all

My many sins, both great and small,

I am perhaps of love unworthy!

But if feigned love, if you would

Pretend, you’d easily deceive me,

For happily would I, believe me,

Deceive myself if but I could. ”

I held my breath halfway throughout but continued to dance. The mention of love completely escaped me when he spoke of deceit and I could not help but wonder if he suspected me of it. Did he know I was leading him on and did not care? Or did he know about me and Zoe and this was just a fancy way of telling me so? My heart raced. I hoped he took it not as panic but exhilaration instead.

“Is that in the bible?” I asked in a shaky voice.

“It’s Pushkin. I’ve been reading Russian literature again, old and new and it’s stuck in my head. Pushkin remains a favourite of mine and Anna Akhmatova is a close second from the new generation. Well, old generation, for you.” He chuckled. “The Pushkin stanza sounds better in Russian. Most things sound better in Russian,” he said in an even voice. I raised my eyebrows at him, and he recited the verses in Russian, and although I understood none of it, it did sound better. “This, however, is from the bible. I don’t remember from which book but I remember that I liked it when I was human. I’m translating directly from Latin, though, because that’s how I studied the bible, so I’m taking a few liberties here to make it sound better, and less ridiculously holy. It goes like this: Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame.”

“It could very well be Pushkin,” I offered.

“It could. Ironically, I prefer these verses more than Pushkin’s.” He laughed lightly and I fully relaxed. He sounded like himself, not at all as if he knew something he wasn’t supposed to.

I did wonder, though, why he chose those verses out of anything else to declaim. Pushkin was a hopeless romantic through and through from what I had read of him. Of Anna I knew little but what I did know spoke of bitterness, death and failed, tragic love. Why suddenly speak of love? He could’ve quoted something else from the bible. Perhaps something to do with Samson and Delilah, since we had joked about it in the past. Anything else would have made more sense, even the parts that made no sense at all and had driven me to argue with a priest years ago.

Was Count Dracula attempting to tell me something? No. Couldn’t be. He was as forward as one could be. And the idea of him feeling anything remotely close to love seemed a little silly.

He had loved Justina; more than he thought he was capable of, he’d said. But that had been centuries ago in another life.

For a moment my determination in being reckless faltered and I felt at loss for what to say.

Dracula let go of me briefly to spin me around in a move I wasn’t as deftly trained in as he was, causing me to squeal at the velocity and trip over my feet. I thought I would fall but he caught me and started moving again in the waltz pattern he had taught me. Laughter bubbled up to my throat in my hurry to catch up with him and the sound of it was amplified by the long walls. Dracula’s laughter joined mine until it became a song for which we danced.

It doesn’t matter, nothing matters. I thought as I gazed up at him. He’ll be gone and whatever I say doesn’t matter anymore. I can entertain even the wildest of things because they’ll never happen. Nothing will happen, for the rest of time.

“I’ve got one for you,” I breathed as we spun in a dizzying pace. “The Devil’s hands directs our every move; the things we loathed become the things we love.” It didn’t come out nearly as expertly as his declamation but I was out of breath, spinning and spinning as he commanded. Like a ballerina in a music box. Dracula simply stared at me, the corners of his lips in their own fight of tugging upwards or downwards. “It’s Baudelaire. Have you read it?” I wasn’t sure if I saw him shake his head. Suddenly, we were dancing so fast that I could barely see my surroundings, much less his face. “I know Baudelaire as you know the bible, only the parts that matter, but I know them from heart. There’s one phrase that I particularly relate to, especially now.” I gulped as if I was looking down a cliff. “What can an eternity –”

Dracula stopped abruptly and I gasped, strands of my hair landing on my face as my head reeled at suddenly being motionless. The world still whirled around and I swayed on my feet as if I had forgotten how to keep myself standing up still, but the Count’s grasp kept me in place.

Interrupting our dance, I realised not a second later, was for the best. I’d been about to quote something very dangerous, something that could land me with both feet on a grave for all eternity with Count Dracula. And I would’ve said it out of sheer wickedness, just because I was tempted about what could happen if I broke a few rules.

I looked up at his face, heart teetering on the verge of stopping in fear of what I would find in his expression. But Dracula wasn’t paying attention to me. His eyes were focusing past my head. And then I heard it. Footsteps.

Our laughter must have woken up whoever had been sleeping inside the cathedral.

“What -?” A male voice drifted from behind me, sounding panicked and angry. “You can’t be here at this hour!”

“Shit,” I whispered to Dracula. “What now?”

He gave me a lopsided grin.

“This is your warning,” he said, not bothering to lower his voice now that we had been caught. I had time to frown at his reply before both of Dracula’s arms pulled me into an embrace, my feet swinging beneath me. I emitted a sound of surprise but didn’t struggle. “Hold on and please try not to throw up on my shoes, they’re rather expensive.”

I had one valuable second to wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face in his chest before we moved faster than I thought was possible. My insides tossed inside of me, suddenly demanding for a way out of my body’s cage. I kept my eyes closed the entire time, too frightened of opening them. I had never gone on a roller coaster ride but I supposed the feeling was similar.

Gusts of wind assailed my hair and threatened to steal the breath out of my lungs. I was afraid the feeling would last forever until we finally stopped and I landed on safe ground.

“You can let go now, Y/N.”

“Can you give me a second?” I mumbled, eyes still shut. “I think my soul is still trying to find a way back into my body.”

Dracula’s laughter tickled my ear and I tightened my hold on him. He did, too, his fingers pressing gently on the flesh of my back. Slowly, as if in a limp, my senses caught up with me and my stomach settled on what felt like an appropriate position.

I opened my eyes tentatively and turned my head to the side. Startled, I realised he had brought me all the way from Gloucester Cathedral to the street where my Airbnb rental was located. And he’d done it in a span of two minutes, if not less.

I tipped my head to look at him, resting my cheek on the cold of his leather jacket. Dracula’s eyes were closed, sets of black eyelashes casting soft shadows on his face, and he was breathing steadily. Not because he needed to, I presumed, but because he was taking in my scent. My lips tugged up automatically; it was odd perceiving that as something sweet but I did.

His throat moved, drawing my attention. A most devilish thought occurred to me and before I gave myself too much time to dwell on it, I stretched up and nibbled at the skin of his neck. It lasted no more than five seconds but the sound that came out of Dracula would be seared into my memory forever. Raw, rapturous, and chilling at the same time. Satisfied, I let go of him, but he didn’t let go of me. Too fast for me to react, he took my hands and placed them where they had been, and then trapped me into his embrace again.

I had just blurred some very important lines with what I had just done, and yet part of me only cared about the thrill of it.

“Your scar has faded,” he said, and my heart hammered madly. A hand delved into my hair, grabbing a mass of it to expose my neck. “You didn’t really think you could get away with what you just did, did you?”

“Not really. But if you bite me without my consent, then the deal is off.”

“And I have no intention of breaking my word. Don’t think of this as reprisal. It’s more of a gift, such as you’ve just given me.”

Dracula bent his head slowly towards my bare neck, like he was giving me time to protest. I remained silent. It was imprudent, this need to know what he would do, but I wanted to garner every possibility of my time with him to cherish in my heart, forever. And the uncertainty of it made me all the more excited. I stared up at the sky and then his lips touched my throat where he had bitten me, softly, so very softly. And then again, not softly at all. Riveting pleasure sparked to life as if the scar was still fresh and I choked on my breath. Dull teeth nibbled the skin there and a flash of pulsating warmth coursed down my chest and back, spreading gradually in the same way spilled blood spread on the ground: trying to encompass everything in its wake, tainting it with inevitable appeal and fear of what it meant. I held on to Dracula forcefully, more forcefully than one would judge to be adequate, and he laughed against my skin before giving it a long lick.

“Careful,” he whispered in my ear. “I may interpret your willingness as consent. And I know you well enough to know you won’t give it to me easily. Will you?”

“No.” The word was automatic and I thanked the part of me that still harboured a sense of self-preservation above my heedless desire for him. However, I still leaned all of my weight on him and made no attempt to put distance between us, as I should’ve. “Not easily at all.”

Dracula, showing way more restraint than I had all night, disentangled my hair from his fingers and stepped back. It took everything in me not to launch myself into his arms again but I let my hands drop to my sides.

“You’re dangerous,” he accused.

“Not as much as you are.”

“A different kind of dangerous.” He licked his lips. Could he taste my skin in his mouth?

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is one.”

I smiled. Being called dangerous filled me with power. Power over him. I was delighted for only a second before wondering if he would think the same thing tomorrow when I stuck a needle with sickly blood in him.

“The cathedral was a good idea,” I said. “Defiling a church has always been in my to-do list, plus I learned how to waltz. So thank you for that.” I sighed. “I should really go to bed now, and so should you. Isn’t the sun almost coming up?”

He nodded.

“Before you go–” he looked behind me with obvious disdain at the building I was staying at and then back at me “–what were you quoting before the priest came upon us?”

I gulped.

“I don’t remember.”

He narrowed his eyes, shifting closer.

“You’re lying. I thought we had established that you don’t lie to me.”

“You established that.” I stepped back, conjuring a cheeky smile. “I didn’t.”

“Tell me.”

“I’ll regret it,” I admitted. “And I prize my sleep. I prefer not to go to bed with a heavy heart.”

He stared at me for a long moment and I waited under his scrutiny, doing my very best to keep it together.

“Tomorrow, then,” he finally said. “Tell me tomorrow.”

But I wouldn’t tell him tomorrow. I would tell him nothing at all.

“Okay. Goodnight, Dracula.”

“Goodnight, dear.”

As I laid my head on the pillow that night, I realised I still didn’t know if Dracula would like Scully or Mulder better. And would never know.

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foxsci596 · 3 years ago

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Kenneth Jay Vo2max Kettlebell Program

Kenneth jay VO2 max 15 15 protocol 32 rounds. Exercise Physiologist Demonstrating VO2 Max Testing. Jpverdisco 214,697 views. Kenneth Jay - Kettlebell Institute - Duration: 2:38. This was developed by Kenneth Jay Senior RKC at. Snatching a kettlebell causes. This is the guide to using the kettlebell for optimal VO2max conditioning. Kenneth Jay's protocols. The purpose of this study was to determine the effects of a kettlebell training program on aerobic capacity. Master Russian kettlebell; Kenneth Jay's VO2 Max protocol.

Kenneth Jay Vo2max Kettlebell Program Template

Kenneth Jay Kettlebell

Kenneth Jay Vo2max Kettlebell Program For Women

Kenneth has looked at the true meaning of cardiovascular adaptation and configured a kettlebell-training program to elicit that response for real. As I told him when we were discussing the benefits I had derived from this, “The VO2max training delivers what circuit training only promised: real strength and cardiovascular conditioning in the. Dec 22, 2017 -Although VWC may have many positive effects, the kettlebell snatch may not be the best way to accomplish the specific purposes of the program, which I believe Kenneth Jay himself has addressed. @Chrisdavisjr, I do think that VWC two or three days per week is a good schedule, and that you can probably fill in more A+A style swing sessions on.

As indicated in an earlier post, I just received and read Viking Warrior Conditioning by Kenneth Jay. This book is the definitive guide to VO2 Max and will become a staple of my conditioning program, especially leading up to the RKC in June. Workout looked like this: Warmup: Pavel's DVD, Relax into Stretch (followed this DVD about 1 hour before workout); ETK wall squats, halos, and pumps. Workout:

Snatch 16k bell, 15:15 protocol

Cadence = 7 reps/set each 15 seconds

30 sets = 210 snatches

Actually performed similar workout on Wednesday, March 18. Snatched 16kb bell using the 15:15 work/rest protocol with a cadence of 6/6 reps. Did 35 sets for the same total of 210 reps, however, tonight's training achieved the same results in less sets and less time.

Kenneth Jay Vo2max Kettlebell Program Template

I noticed my breathing got a little sloppy around 25 sets. Had to mentally re-focus on the work and the proper breathing pattern.

What is Viking Warrior Conditioning? Viking Warrior Conditioning is a Kettlebell Training protocol developed by Kenneth Jay Master RKC used to develop VO2max by use of the kettlebell snatch exercise. Kenneth has written an amazing book packed with information about VO2 max kettlebells and his step by step training system to achieve ultimate fitness with the kettlebell. From Dragondoor It's not often in the world of physical training that something comes along so special, so unique, and so effective that it causes a paradigm shift in how people train and think about training. Louie Simmons turned the powerlifting world upside down with his inspired reinvention of how to train the powerlift. Pavel did the same thing and more with the Russian Kettlebell Challenge. And now, Master RKC Kenneth Jay has taken the Tsar of the Kettlebell lifts—the kettlebell snatch—and created a method of training so revolutionary that it causes us to rethink everything we thought we knew about cardiovascular training and how to incorporate it into our strength and conditioning programs.

Kenneth Jay Kettlebell

Check out the rest of this review at Dragondoor

Kenneth Jay Vo2max Kettlebell Program For Women

My name is Rob Russell and I am currently undertaking this system as part of my kettlebell training. I will use this blog to track my training, what effects it has and my findings using the Viking Warrior Conditioning training system.

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cinaed · 4 years ago

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Red vs Blue Season 3 Rewatch

Slowly making my way through my DVD collection of Red vs Blue!

"You can't die! I'm bored!" Donut is so ruthless in the earlier seasons and I love it.

We really needed more Tex and Sheila girltime, talking about gender inequality and workplace harassment.

Simmons actually calling himself Simmons 2.0 manages to be both hilarious and sad.

Yes, Sarge and Caboose team up! Season 3 has some of my favorite odd couples, and Sarge and Caboose is one of my favorites. Sarge being furious that Doc has a higher body count than he does, Caboose's dedication to nap time.

I love Caboose's moral boost! He's great at compliments even if Sarge doesn't appreciate them.

I know these zealots were like a mostly one-off joke, but also like...they could be a creepy potential experiment in making soldiers that can't die, which I wouldn't put past anyone in the Halo universe.

I love the blame game of who came up with the plan that ended up with everyone scattered across the galaxy. Sarge: "My only choice is to blame Grif, for coming up with such a flawed plan. Stupid, stupid Grif." Grif: "I should have never listened to Donut's stupid fucking plan."

Church and Grif in jail is one of my all-time favorite things.

Simmons is such a tech savvy guy, reworking the teleporters to make them communication devices as well! He just wants some love and support.

Caboose getting angry. I mean, who wouldn't get angry at kittens with spikes that you couldn't cuddle?

"Simmons, you get an F in efficiency. But I have to give you an A+ in dramatic timing."

I do love O'Malley and Doc's dynamic. The Do Not Call list!

I love Tex's half-truths about the Freelancers.

Also love Sarge calling Caboose a little rascal and Simmons just seething with jealousy. And he's also jealous about Donut!

Church: There's no "I" in team, Grif. Grif: Yeah, there's no "U" either. So I guess if I'm not on the team, and you're not on the team, nobody's on the God damn team. The team sucks!

I may or may not quote that to myself on a weekly basis.

Again, just Church and Grif together in that prison cell is sheer perfection. As is Church going "Wait, the people outside sound like they're winning, that can't be our teams."

Tucker likes Sheila so much! And she packed them food! Well, the AI equivalent of food, but it's the thought that counts! Just the sheer affection in Tucker's voice as he promises her they'll be back gave me emotions.

And another good moment of Simmons being the one to suggest they track down Grif, because no one else was going to.

In retrospect, Grif has clearly watched some prison pornos. Like... Buddy.

Wyoming calling Tex Allison has so many interesting implications.

Simmons re-engineers stuff, Sarge makes a weather control device. Where's the AU where Sarge is a mad scientist.

Simmons asking Grif if he's okay after prison. Just loving the slow build of friendship between them.

Also big parallels of Church's "Misery loves company" and his willingness to let the bomb blow them all up together to later seasons stuff.

I still love that everyone's go-to explanation for stuff is "time travel."

Donut is too thin-skinned about criticism for his play. He'd never survive on Broadway, lol. But I love everything about the time travel show.

How is Tucker the smartest person in this group? But also Tucker being so worried about Church. I am having a lot of Tucker feelings this season.

I love Grif's devotion to cheesy disaster movies.

Caboose: Look what I found. Donut: I found it! Caboose: Look at what I took credit for finding.

Poor Donut! A grenade to the head and now his hand got chopped up.

Grif: Hey, what're you doing? Simmons: What does it look like I'm doing, I'm getting in the jeep. Grif: What're we, on a date? Get in the back. Simmons: Oh you're so insecure.

I would've watched an entire season of Doc and O'Malley and Lopez's Lair Improvements. And when Doc mentions a real estate agent all I can think of is an AU where Doc meets Kai because she's running her business on the side while in the military. But also Doc's motivational powers in the living room, O'Malley's belief that the cat won't hang on until Friday, it's great.

The iconic jeep conversation is still good now as it was back then. Re-enacting Dukes of Hazzard! "I can tell you what we weren't doing."

Grif's mind immediately going to gay stuff as a favor from Tex. Between this and his prison conversation with Church, someone is protesting way too much.

Sarge's plans are so amazingly terrible. I love them.

Grif getting choked up over hating Blue Team and Tucker and missing the days where they all just stood around and talked a lot.

Tex sounding genuinely concerned when Tucker falls into the hall. Luckily he gets a cool sword out of it!

Tex's conversation with Simmons about shooting Lopez's head is a great example of an eloquent helmet look. Tex doesn't even say a word and you can feel the disbelief and rage when Simmons implies she may have missed.

Church: Caboose, I know you're there. I'm leaving this message from two thousand years in the past. Whatever you do, don't, touch, anything. Apparently you're this culture's version of the apocalypse. You're going to destroy this building, and somehow bring about doom for their entire race. Caboose: Mmmmmmnooo... that doesn't sound like me. I like people. And buildings also.

Time for some actual time travel or at least a simulation. But I do love Butch Flowers, haha. Whose greatest enemy is apathy! Love watching Church just make his own life worse. Also love the bit about Sheila having been made in Mexico.

"Man... First I kill myself, then I realise I'm a honkin' dork. Not a very good day to be me."

Church: I learned a very valuable lesson in my travels, Tucker. No matter how bad things might seem- Caboose: They could be worse. Church: Nope, no matter how bad they seem, they can't be any better, and they can't be any worse, because that's the way things fucking are, and you better get used to it Nancy. Quit yer bitching.

Grif and Simmons and Sarge talking about the Blues, and Simmons saying he's not looking for friends and doesn't like his current crop AKA he just accidentally admitted Grif is his friend. Grif just didn't realize it.

Between the warthog and monkeying about discussions, Church and Grif really are on the same wavelength.

I love the scheming versus plotting conversation.

Ugh, the arrival of Andy. I hate him so much.

Haha, Simmons lying about his math skills is great.

Uuuugh, Andy. :/ Freckles is SUCH a step up as Caboose's AI murder buddy.

"Do we really have to seize destiny? Can't we just invite it to join our online circle of friends?"

I love Lopez's little rebellion-- he might be under O'Malley's control, but he's also going to sabotage O'Malley as much as possible. And tricking O'Malley into insulting himself in Spanish.

I really forgot that Tex straight up tried to steal Tucker's sword.

Military law is very clear in regard to the "not it" methodology for making decisions. Sorry, Donut.

I forgot that Donut can speak Spanish. In fairness, so did the show.

Hello, Crunchbite!

Next up, the PSAs!

Some of these have aged poorly... Like, uh, jokes about 2004 politics do not land well in 2020. And uh jokes about colds and flus. ...Okay, the Christmas PSA where Church destroys the Reds' Christmas tree, tells Caboose the truth about Santa Claus, gives everyone knock-off coal, convinces Church that Santa is now wearing blue and working only for the Blues, and scams Tucker out of a $350 gift is pretty funny though.

I enjoyed Burnie playing himself in the outtakes by putting words he can't pronounce in his own script. And Grif singing Happy Birthday to Church in prison. Also poor Geoff being told to adlib and immediately having Grif start to tell Church "You're looking buff, man, have you been working--" and being immediately booed by everyone, and someone says they'll use it for an outtake and Geoff is like "It's funny! And I didn't even get to finish!" And everyone trying to figure out Tucker's sword and him accidentally killing everyone in various outtakes. And in the deleted scenes Tex keeps making fun of O'Malley's plans to rule the universe, haha. Also the deleted scene that's just another Simmons' self-insert fanfiction, just as a video instead of a fake game in the Fan Guide.

It also gave us character profiles! I'm sure a lot of this has since been contradicted in canon, but interesting that we got specific hometowns for a few people: Donut in Leggatt Plains, Iowa, which doesn't seem to be a real place; Moscow, Iowa for Sarge, which actually does; Tucker's from Detroit, and Delta Commune for Doc. Oh, is this where we get Caboose grew up on the moon, with his hometown being labeled as Low G Colony, Moon? And hey, I always had him be a middle child, I like that this one did too. Tex likes money and scars and dislikes Donut. Okay I know that's definitely not real, but the idea of Allison growing up in an orphanage hurts me a little. Okay, and I know for sure that Simmons would die of happiness at the fact that Sarge's likes are battles, fringe science, and Simmons. Lopez likes oil and unions, and hates capitalism. My kind of guy. Last but not least, I actually really like Simmons as the son of a bunch of right-hand stooges (who probably wanted power for themselves).

#Red vs Blue #rvb rewatch #long post

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cosmomoore · 5 years ago

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So you may or may not remember me talking about Sailor Moon and the quality of the Viz Blu-Ray Releases versus (arguably) the best versions of the visual portion of the show that are currently available (the most recent Italian DVDs) - you can read my original post here - and how I was attempting to enhance my Viz Release Stars DVD rips using free software (I’m using Handbrake because though AviSynth is much better, it is a new beast to me, one that I am not sure I even want to attempt to tame).

I’ll put the rest under a read more since this probably won’t appeal to most people lol

So anyways, I resumed working on Stars recently and I achieved a quality that I was pleased with (though I may re-rip/re-enhance them again knowing all that I learned while converting them), and I decided to see what I could do to the first season using the best quality videos with my very minimal video processing knowledge.

These screencaps are from Season One, using the Koten-Gars releases which, if I remember correctly, combine the Italian DVD Release Video with the English Viz Dub/Subtitles, and the Japanese track from an Australian DVD release.

The originals are on the left and the enhanced versions are on the right. Arguably, I could have went harder on the filters, but I didn’t want to go overboard. I did an entire days worth of tests, comparing frames, watching small segments over and over again trying to dance the line between just enough and not too much.

When converting older animation it is very easy to go overboard and cause what I call ringing/halos around the lines. That happened some with my Stars enhancements, which is why I may retry those.

My goal was to enhance the clarity of the lines, because the original video - while amazing in quality for its age - looked almost blurry, while minimizing (some) of the grain - making for smoother gradients, more even tones, and less noise overall.

The screencaps are at the original, 480p, resolution so the enhancement may look very minimal at that size, but blown up on a 55″ TV screen they make a world of difference. I don’t care for upscaling 480p animation mainly because modern TVs do a pretty good job if the source is high quality enough.

Like I said, I tried to dance the fine line between just enough and not too much. The smoothing filter did blur away some of the noticeable brush strokes in some of the backgrounds, but those were barely noticeable in motion anyway. Also, there is some noise present still, but without a more advanced knowledge and software (like AviSynth), I don’t think I could do any better.

Overall I am very pleased with how Season One turned out, even more so than Season Five. The main difference is the video I have available for Season Five is lower quality than what I have for Seasons One - Four so there are some things I am unhappy with regarding the enhancement of Season Five. (I was able to find the Koten-Gars release for SuperS/Season Four.)

Anyways, these take about an hour and a half to process, and I definitely want to do the rest... It is just taking the time to figure out the settings that work best for the remaining seasons and setting up my computer to process them all lol

The ringing on the right side of the video, aka the pink line, it is present in the original (you can kind of see it in the screencaps), only it is very pale... I’m not sure why it went pink during enhancement...

PPS

Even though I am happy with my amateur results at enhancement, I’m not replacing the Koten-Gars releases with them. They will exist alongside each other, in harmony lol

#sailor moon #anime #restoration #enhancement

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daddy-ul · 4 years ago

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18, 25, and 26!

Hey there, stranger!! This ended up being LONG, so feel free to skip a bit the boring parts fjsdkfssda

18. Which piece of your Met merch is your treasure?

...... you are coming for my throat, are you? HOW CAN I PICK ONE?? I know I wrote these ask, so it’s also my faul BUT

Uhmmmm, I think I posed the question wrong bc what does ‘treasure’ mean in this context? If we go with emotional value in general, I should say my SKOM dvd/book bc, as lame as it can sound, it plays a major role in my inner life + i’m a strange animal and i bought it without knowing a thing abt metallica, and it was what convinced me to listen to them. .... but is it a treasure if I could buy it whenever I want? It’s everywhere, even on netflix.

If we go with treasure = rare... well, I could say my concert tickets, bc of course they are only mine. MHHHHHH

I’m making this harder than it should be, am I? LOL, then let’s compromise:

It’s a tie between a) my met crop top that makes me feel powerful af and has the pushead sun design on it;

b) Back to the front bc HOLY SHIT I still think about that book, how it’s structured in such a heartfelt way and... well, you know that when you love a thing... you kinda recognize that love in other people or even in object? You recognize the care and thought and passion... bc you have them in you. I can see them in that book. And the ending lives rent free in my head;

c) my So What! issues bc they bring me so much JOY and they are so fun, and it was not easy getting them and some are already sold out!! My treasure indeed.

25. Fave HTSD lyrics

You are ruining me, hope you know that. djsakdhajkdhadh kidding, I love these kinda things (I have many opinions and no qualms about spreading them fdjfhsd)

I’m a rebel so I do what I want, which means that I pick one line for every song of the album

Hardwired: hardwired to self destruct (such a great, dark concept); Atlas: Overload, the martyr stumbles/Hit the ground and heaven crumbles/All alone, the fear shall humble (bc it rolls magnificently on the tongue);

Dead: When doubt returns/May it be/That faith shall permeate our scars (i love dark stuff as much as I am an optimist); Moth: Overdose on shame and insecurity;

Dream: He sleeps under cosmos shaking/Stars granting his breath (HOW COOL IS THAT???? such amazing images); Halo: Fear to turn on the light/ For the darkness won’t go away (I am a basic bitch and this still hits me hard as it did in 2016);

Confusion: Rapid is the road to sacrifice/Just takes longer to come home; ManUNkind: Seized by the day/Frozen captive by the night (i love the pun);

Revenge: I return this nightmare, I will find you/Sleepless, cloaked in despair, I’m behind you; Savage: Sharpened edge touch liquid flame/Deepened seed soaks angers reign (I LOVE METAPHORS OKAY??? Also i wrote a damn meta on this song, it was hard to choose);

Murder One: Born to lose/Living to win; Spit: Remove your heart, it’s only good for bleeding

One day I’m gonna write a meta about how much James’ writing lyrically speaking has changed during time, down to the structure (ie. in Death magnetic there were SUBORIDNATES and in HTSD has a lot of 2-words lines)

26. What Met riff is eating your brain today?

Uhmmmm, more than a riff today I’m kinda obsessed with the violins in a specific part of Moth into Flame S&M2 bc they sound EXACTLY like lil insects swarming and dying around you. (this reminds me that I have also my S&M2 post in the drafts)

#SOPH PLEASE DONT HATE ME #i swear i didnt mean to droning on so much #ask #you picked really hard questions sjdjsjdjd #love that #thank u so much #jinn contemplates life. metallica and life.

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calliecat93 · 5 years ago

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Top 5 Things I Disliked About Red vs Blue: Season 2

When I decided to do this series, I knew it was gonna be hard to do lists for Blood Gulch. Not because I can’t think of anything I like or dislike specifically, but as I said before, BGC is mainly comedic driven. The worst I can say is ‘this isn’t funny’ and critique the earlier production standards. Which that’s kinda mean since they were working with what they had and trying to learn to do the show. As such, I have to reach on Dislikes for these and S2 was a tough one in that regard. I managed to come up with five, but GOD I had to stretch haaaard on it.

But still, I did it. Just remember, take this with a grain of salt. So here we go, Top 5 Things I Disliked About RvB S2.

#5. Doc

If you asked me which of the BGC to write out and never bring back… I’d probably have to pick Doc. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate him, but I’ve also never loved him. He comes off more whiny than funny, and most of the time he’s only funny due to the back and forth with O’Malley. Otherwise, usually… he’s just there. Even here in S2, while having a pacifist medic in a cast where several are trigger happy could lead to some funny stuff, Doc was just an annoyance. The situations he got into were funny, like getting knocked into the Warthog when the Blues unknowingly made it go rogue, but he was literally just there for the ride. Something IDT later season really improved aside form 16 and 17, which tbh I think is stretching it.

IDK, I just find Doc whiny and kinda boring. Even if he’s meant to be the annoying, disrespected nice guy, doesn't Donut kinda fit that slot already? Heck, they both even have the recurring ‘disappear for seasons and then suddenly comes back’ joke. The only times that I feel invested in Doc is when he has O’Malley, which is how he re-entered the plot here. I’m gonna save more about that in the S3 posts, but on his own? Doc just… doesn’t really work and I didn’t really miss him in between the Reds dumping him and him reappearing when O’Malley infected him. It’s also a flaw IDT recent seasons have really fixed, though they are trying. Plus I don’t hate Doc and some jokes with him do work (the gag of his naming made me giggle), I'm just… indifferent. But that’s why he’s at the top of the list since the most I can say is I find him whiny and not as funny,

#4. The Cyborg Subplot

So due to losing Lopez and because he’s Sarge, Sarge decides to turn one of the Reds into a cyborg to do all the stuff that Lopez did. He settles on Simmons. Now in and of itself, the subplot is fine. It leads to a good few jokes, like Grif trying to ruin Simmons’ parts after the surgery or a few gags like Simmons shooting his own foot and of course, faxass. While IDT the season would have been hurt without it, it has plenty of funny bits. Sow hat’s the problem. Well… like I said, cutting it wouldn’t have hurt anything. It kinda is just there to give the Reds something to do during the O’Malley and Tex stuff since otherwise, they’d just be standing around and taking… well, more than normal. Otherwise, it’s only significance plot-wise is Tucker tuning into their frequency, which is important in the finale when he picks up Vic and Sarge’s conversation.

So yeah, the subplot isn’t all that important. But it is still funny, so I don't mind it being there. But nowadays… how much so we see this come up? I mean Grif got mutilated by a tank and got another guy’s body/organs haphazardly stitched on. Simmons, while he possibly gave up those parts to Grif willingly, was otherwise forcibly converted into a cyborg. This… hasn’t really come up again. I mean the only time I think Simmons mentioned it in-show was as a brief joke in S11. Nine seasons later. I don’t think Grif’s side of it has come up at all ever again. Though… considering you can only get so many jokes out of this setup since everyone is always in armor, I do understand why. Though I feel with Simmons’ side at least, they could play with it some more, both comedically and maybe even storywise. But that may be my need for Simmons content talking…

So yeah, the subplot was okay. It’s at Number Four since I don’t hate it and it was funny. I just feel like nothing would be lost without it, especially since it pretty much never comes up again. Maybe one day though, who knows? At least the fanfic writers keep it alive XD

#3. The Caboose Forgetting Church Thing

Okay this is brief, but it does annoy me. During the whole trip into Caboose’s mind, Caboose’s memory of Church gets shot. As such, Caboose forgets who Church is. Makes sense, O’Malley killed the personification of Church in Caboose’s mind, so his mind would forget it. It also explains why Caboose got, well… for lack of a better way to put it, intellectually challenged later on due to having three AI’s in his brain and all the chaos that broke out. But Caboose forgetting Church lasts like… one episode? Maybe two? Anyways, Burnie explained on the commentary that it was just too hard to write out so they did one joke with it, and then just dropped it. Probably for the best... but then we have to figure out how this works in-continuity... damn it.

Really this is only on here because it forces me to try to figure out how this is possible in a show sense. Which yeah I probably don’t need to, but I am a continuity loser who tries to piece together these things. If I had to guess, maybe the memory of Church fixed itself somehow or Caboose was able to recall after being around Church for a little while. But I honestly really don’t know, and trying to think it through hurts my brain. It also did little to nothing either story-wise or comedy-wise, at least we got a few jokes out of the cyborg subplot. IDK, I feel like they gave up on it too soon. But then again this is the saga where they’ll break/ignore continuity for the sake of a joke and that’s just how these seasons worked. Hence why I put it smack-dab in the middle.

#2. Some Holdover S1 Issues

You can tell that there was a mass improvement in terms of production for Season Two. Pacing felt stronger, more was going on, characterizations began to settle in, and they even began to form more of a plot. They clearly had a much better idea of what they were doing now that they got through Season One and I think things like Matt becoming more involved in writing and production as well as Gus moving back to work on the show really helped as well. That being said, not everything got resolved. Most did, but there are still a few holdouts.

Audio mixing is a LOT better, especially when it comes to effects. The filter is still a little distracting, though better compared to S1. Not all the characterizations really set in. Grif and Donut are about 75% there and Simmons and Tucker are probably the least set in stone. The traits are there, like Simmons clinginess to Sarge and Tucker actually showing some competence when forced to, but nothing set in stone. Donut’s also on the right path with his hobbies and tendency to babble into TMI territory, but the voice is still off and his personality isn’t quite there yet. There’s some other, but I’ll touch on it in the Likes list. Some jokes could also still drag, like the whole switch joke where some of Church and Tucker’s back and forth went on a little too long.

We’re clearly making progress, but the mark hasn’t quite been hit. It’s still an improvement over S1 though, the pacing especially. This is nitpicky, but still it’s there. But hey it’s progress, and that is never a bad thing. So yeah, RvB is still evolving here, but the progress bar is loading steadily and trust me, by S3 I think we’ll be settled in… well, for the most part.

#1. Some Outdated Humor

The BGC was made from 2003 to 2007. Obviously, there’s gonna be some stuff that is outdated. Take the graphics themselves for example. Halo has evolved, so the game can look a little outdated, especially when you compare the original footage to the remastered footage. Let's put it this way, VIC is uncanny in the remaster… and is utterly horrifying in the original version. Thank God that the DVD is the remaster and I was spared of looking at that monstrosity. Visuals aren’t the only thing though, some pop culture references can also come off as outdated, like Creed joke in the RL vs Internet PSA. So can some of the humor that shows how stupid we were back only two decades ago.

There are… some jokes that are uncomfortable to listen to. For example, there’s the Grif shaming himself joked by saying he’s a girl and likes ribbons in his hair. It’s not the worst joke and clearly, it isn’t made to offend… but nowadays I think it could look offensive to certain individuals. It didn’t necessarily offend me, but it did kinda make me feel uncomfortable when I first watched it, but it could be me thinking it over too hard. There’s also the casual usage of the R word. Last season it came up a bit, but I noticed it came up more frequently here. Not excessively, but there were quite a few instances where it was treated as a casual curse word. Obviously back in 2004 we didn’t realize this was an offensive term, and I think they’ve even said that they regret the casual usage of it during the early years. You certainly would probably not hear that word used unless maybe to emphasize how terrible a character is, but even then I think they’d be more careful.

Now obviously RvB uses a lot of adult and offensive humor, especially in this era. I guess you can kinda call it the web version of South Park, only RvB has never really resorted to shock humor. It puts it above many, /many/ animated adult comedies in that regard. Still, when you run for this long, you’re gonna have some outdated elements. It’s not necessarily their fault, it just shows that times has changed. Still, it does make some stuff hard to look back on without cringing, and I imagine that the Founders would agree. So yeah… there’s just some stuff that wasn't fun to look back over and S2 isn’t the only offender, but this was where it stood out to me and took me out of the moment. As such, it is Number One.

(Top 5 Likes)

#rvb #rvb reviews #top likes/dislikes

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lululawrence · 6 years ago

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2017 Fics Written by lululawrence (1/2)

Master Fic Masterpost / Buy me a Coffee?

Easy, Breezy, Beautiful (5k)

“Louis, I can’t go to school like this! Help me!”

Louis looked his sister up and down and found that her uniform looked pretty par for the course and her golden brown hair actually looked nicer than usual. Unsure what the issue was, he just rubbed his eyes in an attempt to wake up the rest of the way.

“Okay, erm...so how exactly can I help you?” he slowly asked. Maybe if he tried to have her tell him what she expected of him he could figure out how to help her.

“I need something to cover this spot on my forehead! It’s massive!”

...or the one where Phoebe has a makeup emergency and, luckily for all of them but Louis especially, Harry is just the man to help.

Bloody Mary (1k)

The Mosquito Direction crack fic you never knew you needed.

I Don't Know What To Believe (6k) - Part Two of the Everything You Do Is Magic Series

“The fuck is that?” Louis asked. Harry took his eyes off the baby for the first time in who knows how long and didn’t say anything, just held the card out to Louis. Louis, however, seemed to be a bit spooked at a baby showing up in their kitchen with no warning and wasn’t moving any closer.

Harry waved the card in his outstretched hand, showing he was getting a bit frustrated with Louis’ lack of cooperation. “It’s a fucking baby, that’s what! Take the damn card and read it!”

Louis gave Harry his classic unimpressed face. “I know it’s a fucking baby, you twat. Whose baby?”

“Maura and Bobby’s, I’d imagine,” Harry mumbled quietly, letting his arm fall to his side.

Or the one where Harry and Louis find Niall has somehow become a baby and turned up on their kitchen table.

The Day Is Up And Calling (4k)

All Harry was trying to find was his flatmate, Ed, but if he finds Ed's new fit employee instead? Well...things could be worse.

bend me, shape me (4k) - Co-Written with @dimpled-halo and @a-writerwrites

“You forgot something, didn’t you, darling?” Louis didn’t bother to look at Harry, but his voice said everything Harry was sure he’d see in his eyes if he did. There was an undercurrent of teasing, but a sort of condescending agitation that Harry was, unfortunately, very familiar with.

Shit. He’d forgotten something.

“Were we supposed to go somewhere?”

Louis didn’t answer — he just ran his thumb over the head of his fully hard cock and groaned, the sound of it going straight to Harry’s groin. “Um. It’s not your birthday…” Harry was wracking his brain. “Our anniversary is May 10th. Um…”

“Our marriage anniversary is May 10th. Husband.” Louis was staring at him vehemently now. And, of course. Of course that was what it was. An anniversary.

****

Harry forgets an anniversary. Louis helps him remember.

I Found A Love (4k)

Louis adjusted his suspenders a bit and picked up the next book when someone cleared their throat behind him, making Louis jump. He spun quickly around, hand on his chest and just barely remembered to not drop Diana Gabaldon’s newest thousand page hardback that would definitely have done damage to Louis’ feet.

Standing in front of him was someone who looked like he had just walked out of a motorcycle commercial. He had his hair pulled up in a bun, was wearing what looked to be an expensive as fuck leather jacket over a ratty Rolling Stones t-shirt, and were those sparkly boots? Louis wasn’t quite sure how to take him, but he certainly had a presence. He was also likely confused about his location and was clearly about to ask where the DVD section was.

Or the one where Louis is a nerdy English major who may just run into his happily ever after while working his shift at the local library.

That's Not My Name (3k)

He froze for a second, because he hadn’t expected to be hit with such an intense gaze. Green eyes beneath a beanie and loads of curly hair made Louis miss a beat before coming back to himself.

“Uh, hi. Sorry. Can I take your order?”

The boy (man?) gave a shy smile and said, “Just a caramel macchiato, please. Grande.” Louis nodded as he scribbled onto the cup and punched it into the register.

As the boy held his phone to the machine to pay, Louis asked, “Name please?”

“Oh, uh, Marcus.”

Louis scribbled Marcus on the cup and handed it off, but not before giving the boy a smile and nodding over to where he’d be able to pick up his drink. Louis watched him a bit longer than he probably should have, then forced himself to move on.

Or the one where the cute boy coming into the coffee shop gives Louis a different name every time...for over a month.

Be A Daymaker (5k)

“If you guys purchase fifty items between now and Saturday’s live, then Louis here will do one of my live sales next week.”

At Lottie's announcement, Louis did a little dance of mock excitement and Harry gasped.

“Yeah, you’re all wondering why that would be so great, right?” Harry scoffed. Who would complain about this arrangement other than Louis? Harry knows from chatting with some of the other regulars that he wasn’t the only one of Lottie’s viewers with a crush on her brother. “Well, not only will he do a live, but he’ll do the live in an outfit of your choosing.”

Or, a completely self indulgent AU where Louis and Lottie are a consultant team for LuLaRoe and Harry is one of their most loyal customers.

Love Me Like You Do (4k)

“Yeah, but is working in a field completely unrelated to what I’m educated in and what I want to do really paying my dues? And Lou, I’m 28. I’m 28 working a job I don’t enjoy, still living with my best friend, minutes from my mom’s house.”

“You’re saying that living with me isn’t the best part of your life right now, fucker,” Louis complained, poking Harry in the ribs where he knew he was sensitive. Harry squeaked and moved his arm to protect his side before apologizing.

“I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just…” Harry sighed. “I feel like I’m just treading water and I have been for ages now. I’m glad I have a job that covers what I need it to, and I’m incredibly lucky to have you with me as well, but like…”

Louis waited, but the silence wasn’t filled.

Or the one where it's time for Harry's ten year reunion and Louis being his fake boyfriend for the night changes things more than they expected.

What Happens Next (5k)

“So anyway,” Louis said on a yawn, making Harry yawn as well. “What can I do for you?”

“Uhm. Well, I was wondering how a free vacation sounded to you.”

Harry knew he had Louis’ attention fully because his voice suddenly sounded much more alert.

“I’d say you’re trying to sell me something, because nothing in life is free. However, I am listening.”

Or a fic where Harry has to pick up the pieces and ends up on the couples cruise that should have been his honeymoon...with his best friend Louis.

Validation (4k)

“Hey, how are you?” Harry asked. He’d found that sometimes just a smile and a kind face was all that was needed to brighten someone’s day.

“Oh, uhm. I’m alright. Can you validate me?”

Harry chuckled inwardly, but decided to go ahead and take him literally.

Or the one where Harry worked in a parking garage and he totally didn’t mean for this, the whole validation of people as well as their parking tickets, to become a thing. It just kinda...did.

Cake, Phone, Harry (3k)

It was so innocent. Louis hadn’t been expecting it. “See you at home around 6!” Harry’s text read, and then at the very end he’d snuck one of those very graphics Louis had come to dislike so much.

A smiley emoji.

Or the one where Louis is probably the last holdout when it comes to using emojis, but that doesn't last forever.

Same White Shirt (10k)

“Oh my God. What are you holding?”

Harry was startled to hear an English voice coming from behind him that he didn’t know. He’d thought he knew all the English employees around here. When he turned around there was a man with the most stunning eyes and incredible cheekbones known to man in the doorway looking with absolute distaste at the suit Harry had just been thinking of so fondly.

“It’s my suit for the show,” Harry said firmly. This guy was obviously an assistant if the badge and plate of fruit he was holding were anything to go by, but as he began walking to where the table was in the room, Harry noticed he was walking with a slight limp. Oh shit.

Or the one where Harry's on the Late Late Show for a week and several misunderstandings with a certain mouthy assistant James recently hired make things that much more interesting.

Now That It's Over (8k)

“What are the odds we would both be at Mariano’s on a Thursday night?”

Louis’ shoulders tensed. What the hell was he doing here?

“Harry? Hi? The odds are pretty crazy, yeah.”

Harry smiled down at Louis the way he used to, but there was also a glint in his eye that Louis absolutely did not like. Harry was also dressed in his favorite black and white striped women’s jeans and a printed shirt only he would ever be able to pull off. It was quite rude of him to come and interrupt Louis, particularly while looking so good. Louis hadn’t seen him since he’d finished moving his shit out of what was once their shared flat, so this being the first time seeing him wasn’t exactly providence in Louis’ mind.

Or the one where Harry and Louis broke up two months ago, and Harry just might be sabotaging Louis' dates.

A Word We've Only Heard (7k)

So, where are you headed?” Liam asked, not wanting to sit in awkward silence for their journey. It was twelve hours to Chicago, and that was far too long to sit and not chat with his fellow passenger in front of him.

“Chicago,” he answered, his blue eyes meeting Liam’s own. “It’s home. Been on the road for quite some time now, it’s the first time I’ll be able to sleep in my own bed in almost a month.”

Liam whistled. “You must be pretty excited.”

The man gave a soft smile, which made him look younger than Liam initially expected; he might even still be in his twenties. He wondered what kind of a life this man had led to look so tired until he smiled.

Or, it's 1951, Harry is the owner of a music shop, and Louis is a traveling salesman making his way back home.

No Chance At All (5k)

As an omega, Louis naturally had the ability to sense alphas, so it wasn’t like this was an unusual situation for him. The difference here was that this man smelled so strong and so ridiculously good. Louis had never been so attracted to someone’s scent before. Add the fact that this worker whose name tag read “Harry” looked like some kind of greek god with his long curly hair and dimples as he chatted up the older woman ordering currently, and Louis was already a goner.

Or the one where Louis just wants to drink good coffee and work on his homework in peace, but the alpha barista is charming to everyone but him, and that just pisses him off.

(Make You Want To) Scream (16k)

While Louis' left hand plays with his nipple, his right reaches down and wraps around his dick and that's when he really knows something is wrong.

The dick in his hand does not feel like his own.

Nothing Please Me More Than You (8k)

This guy came in every day and without fail said or did something that made Louis pause and puzzle over what it meant. His accent was American, but it had to be some regional dialect from nearby or something because everything sounded sharper when he spoke. A little more crisp. Like he’d worked with one of those dialect coaches that had been used when talking pictures first started being made.

Louis shook his head and tried to rid himself of lectures from the film history course he’d taken last semester. It obviously had no bearing on what was going on with hot dude in the corner. Still, Louis would love to pick his brain and figure out where he was from. How his hair always looked so perfect. If he liked to kiss boys.

Or...the one where Louis is a barista and Harry is the hot dude that comes in every day and does nothing except sit in the corner, writing in his notebook, all day long. But what Louis learns when he sneaks a peek inside the notebook changes everything.

Let Me Make It Better (4k)

Dan's house was large and spacious, but there were still only five bedrooms for a family of, what would soon be, nine. The division seemed quite simple, in Louis’ mind. Mom and Dan would obviously get the master suite, Lottie and Fizzy would share the largest room with Phoebe and Daisy getting the next largest, the newest twins would get the smaller room that was closest to the master suite, and Louis would take the smallest room right beside the bathroom since he didn’t have to share.

Lottie and Fizzy vehemently disagreed.

Or the one where Louis was seven years old when he moved in next door to Harry, but now that they're in their senior year of college, everything is starting to change.

My Cup of Tea (2k)

In which Harry is the trainer for Louis' new hire class, and his quirks might be exactly what Louis needs to pay attention.

#mine #my fics #my fic rec #my fic masterpost #2017 fics masterpost #fic rec

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ladyanatui · 5 years ago

Text

Save Me *A Daiken Fic*

Daisuke thought they had lost everything, and they almost had. He had failed his team, and when he fell, the others followed. But nothing hurt as much as the realization that he had failed Ken, that he had almost lost Ken.

AKA

Daisuke suffers from PTSD/depression after the events of Digimon tri., and Ken is here to help!

AO3 | FF.Net

Ken stood on my doorstep. Perfect Ken with his silky black hair tucked behind one ear and his intense, blue-violet eyes searching my face with worry.

"Can I come in?"

Hell, even his voice is perfect—smooth and lilting like a song I need to learn the words to.

"Motomiya?"

But I just stand there, staring at him, unable to do anything but watch Ken's Adam's apple bob with an apprehensive swallow.

Ken clears his throat. "Dai…Daisuke? Let me in."

It's still a request, but the words, barely a whisper, are firm, commanding.

Finally, I step to the side, and Ken slips inside the apartment with a perfect grace no one should be allowed to possess. The door creaks shut behind his lithe form.

The apartment is eerily silent.

Ken, ever the observant one, notices immediately while he slips off his shoes. "Where is everyone? It's so…"

"Empty," I supply, speaking for the first time.

Ken studies me with those intense eyes, tearing down my walls, tearing down my very foundation with nothing more than his gaze.

I cough uncomfortably and move away from the front door. "My parents are having a date night, and Jun is hanging out with her crazy friends. They'll probably all be out late." I pause in the kitchen, but I can't think of anything I want to eat or drink and I don't know why I bothered to come in here. "Uh, you want a drink or something?"

When I glance up, Ken pauses next to the peninsula, blocking me in the kitchen. "They left you alone?"

I frown. "I asked them to."

He arches a perfectly sleek eyebrow.

"Okay, I told them to go have fun. They don't need to worry about me right now."

We four Chosen Children weren't the only ones whose lives were put on hold while we were comatose in the Digital World after all. Our families went through the ringer too, and as much as they dote on me after I got out of the hospital, my parents—hell, even Jun—deserve a nice relaxing night out. And I definitely enjoy not getting pestered or fretted over constantly.

Ken knows that just as well. His mom wouldn't stop crying in the hospital. Probably still hasn't stopped crying, knowing Mrs. Ichijouji.

To be fair, Ken was the last to wake up.

Apparently, getting your energy sucked from your body so an evil digital false Gennai can impersonate you as the Digimon Kaiser is exhausting.

His mother, tears streaming down her cheeks as she begged Ken not to leave again, never abandoned his side. And once I was allowed to walk short distances, neither did I.

"Hmm," Ken murmurs. "My mom barely let me come here tonight. She's scared."

I release a long sigh. Mrs. Ichijouji isn't the only one scared.

The minute Ken opened his eyes and saw two of his favorite people in his hospital room, he cried. I almost broke down at the sight, relieved and happy, worried and overwhelmed, but mostly so incredibly glad to have him back, to know he would be okay. Mrs. Ichijouji did break down.

Instead, I slipped from the room to give them privacy, and I didn't return.

Aside from a few short texts—including the one that pleased me most: Ken's announcement when he was released from the hospital, more than a week after my own release—we haven't spoken. Hell, this is the first I've seen Ken since the day he woke up.

Ken unbuttons his jacket, and the fabric slides down his shoulders and arms at a torturously slow pace—I can't keep my eyes off the garment and the pale skin its removal reveals. Ken's wearing a loose graphic tee with gold lettering underneath, and the way it hangs off his narrow frame, I'm almost certain it's a woman's shirt. With one short glance and that same intense eye contact, he moves to hang the jacket by the door.

I can only watch him.

Because Ken moves in soft steady steps, so light you can't hear, so smooth you can see the individual leg muscles move underneath his skin-tight jeans.

"I'm staying the night," he says as he twists around—I nearly strain my neck in an attempt to keep watching those perfectly lean muscles.

Then, I realize my eyes are glued to Ken's, ahem, package.

And Ken knows exactly where I'm looking.

And it's not because I was ogling Ken's ass while he was turned. That definitely didn't happen. I was simply admiring the toned muscles of a fellow athlete.

Body stiff, I look away. Look at anything else really.

Wait.

What did Ken say?

My eyes dart back to my best friend's face, where two beautifully sculpted eyebrows arch skeptically. "Huh?"

"I'm staying the night," Ken says again, not at all intimidated by the definitely-not-ass-ogling. "I already told my parents, and we both know yours won't mind."

No, of course. My parents adore Ken, have always adored Ken, probably wouldn't mind adopting him in place of me really—or at least, that's what I used to think. Either way, they'd be happy to know I'm not at home alone right now.

I swallow, trying to understand. "You didn't bring a bag. What about a toothbrush? A comb?" I hesitate, then practically whisper, "A change of clothes?"

"I decided on the way over," Ken admits with a secretive smile. "Called my mom before I got off at the Odaiba stop. She offered to drive me over some things, but I figured…you wouldn't mind sharing."

I laugh.

No, I don't mind sharing anything with Ken.

I nod slowly. Mostly because I don't know what else to do.

"Watch a movie?" Ken suggests in a soft voice. "In your room?"

I nod again.

And Ken turns down the hallway without another word, without waiting for me, and all I can do is stare, dumbfounded, in his wake.

Alone again, I move to the bathroom.

After washing up, I spend a long time staring at my pallid face in the mirror. My eyes look empty, hollow, and I can't smile like I want to. Like I'm supposed to.

I've always been the one keeping morale up, even if only with dumb jokes and (usually) good-natured teasing. No matter how insane or intense or dark things got, I brought the team back to earth, to ground them and encourage them so we could keep going.

Now, I'm not certain I can keep going.

Knock, knock.

"Dai? Everything okay?"

I turn on the faucet and splash cold water on my face before venturing to answer. "Y-yeah, just a sec." Then, I twist the water off and study my eyes again.

That water didn't make one lick of difference.

When I open the bathroom door a moment later, Ken leans against the opposite wall in bedclothes. I'm almost sad to see the skinny jeans go, until it registers Ken is wearing a pair of my own gym shorts, bright blue and white like V-mon, barely clinging to his hips. And still in his loose obviously-a-woman's-shirt, the low-hanging shorts show off a strip of smooth, alabaster midriff.

There's something positively sinful about the way Ken looks in just a pair of oversize gym shorts.

No, in my gym shorts.

"I can wear this, right?"

I nod, eyes sliding along that delightful strip of skin the way I want to slide my fingers and my tongue along there.

"Come on…"

Ken leads the way to my bedroom, and I follow only a few steps behind, gaze focused on the sashaying hips and pert ass beneath my gym shorts.

"What d'you wanna watch?" I ask as my bedroom door clicks into place behind us, and we're officially shut alone together in my bedroom.

Ken shrugs. "Anything you want, Dai." He sends me a small smile over his shoulder—I barely catch the friendly gesture, but it's definitely not because I'm staring at that beautifully pert ass in my gym shorts as he leans forward and grabs his phone from my nightstand. "I'm going to call my mom really quick to let her know I'm here and everything is alright."

He doesn't leave the room to make the call, only drops onto my rumpled bed and lies flat against the mattress, the shirt riding up to his belly button, his ebony hair splaying like a halo around his head. Then, he presses his phone to his ear. "Mama? Hey…"

I turn to the small TV and flip through our options. I don't particularly care what we watch; I probably won't pay attention anyway. I grab the nearest DVD without even registering what it is and tear open the box to slide the disk in, but I make sure not to turn on the TV until Ken concludes his phone call a minute later.

"Sorry about that." Ken offers an unnecessarily apologetic smile as he pushes up onto his elbows. "So what did you choose?"

I drop onto the bed beside him with a shrug, shoulders slumping forward. I really wasn't paying attention to which movie I put in. I have no idea what it is.

Instead of answering, I grab the remote and power on the TV. It's already on the menu, and I press play without a glance.

"Will you turn off the light?" Ken asks.

Here, I hesitate.

Not because it's an unreasonable request—it isn't—but there's a part of me that thinks lying on my bed in the dark with Ken isn't the smartest idea, no matter how many times we've shared a bed in the past three and a half years.

Of course, when have I ever listened to my instincts when Ken makes such a reasonable request?

Never.

I rise from the bed, and as I cross the room to the light switch, I tear my sweaty shirt over my head and drop it on the floor. Ken may have gotten dressed for bed, but I'm still wearing the day clothes I put on purely for my family's benefit. It's not like I went anywhere today. Or considered going anywhere today.

The room darkens dramatically once I flip the switch, and then, I tug at the button and zipper of my cargo shorts and shake them off by the door.

Then, wearing nothing but ratty socks and green and violet boxers, I pause.

We're almost fifteen now—Ken's birthday was technically while we were comatose, trapped in pods, barely fucking alive—and I typically sleep in just this these days. But even though we're older, we still do sleepovers, and I generally have the decency to wear an oversize T-shirt and pajama bottoms on those occasions.

I really don't want to bother with that now.

I don't want to bother with anything.

At the same time, the tension doesn't need amped up to twenty.

The closet is back by the bed, and I cross his field of vision to reach it and pull out a T-shirt at least.

"Your goggles…"

The words are quiet in the dark, but they make me freeze with the shirt only halfway down my torso.

I glance back toward the desk, where the goggles have been lying since I before I was released from the hospital. One of the lenses is cracked, and Mom had to clean a little blood off. I haven't had the heart to touch them in the weeks since we've been back.

"Senpai's goggles," I whisper.

But the movie's barely made a sound so far and Ken's hearing is superb. "No," he says, shaking his head firmly. "Taichi-san gave them to you for a reason, Dai. They're yours now."

I scoff.

I don't know what that reason was anymore.

"Besides," he adds, "Koushiro-san built him a new pair while we were…away."

My teeth grit at the ridiculous euphemism, and I tug the shirt down the rest of the way, but any words I might say are drowned out when the movie finally makes more than a quiet hum.

I glance at the TV. It's some sci-fi flick. I don't look long enough to register more than that.

"Oh," Ken says thoughtfully, his voice higher, musical and whimsical again, lightening the mood. "Good choice." He pats the bed next to him and flashes me a smile. "Come sit, Dai."

I didn't grab pajama pants like I meant to, but I swallow down any hesitation and slide onto the mattress next to him. Our arms brush, his knuckles grazing my clenched fist, and my breath hitches.

It's the most contact we've had since the day he woke up.

Hell, aside from my mom's vigorous hugs, it's the most physical contact I've experienced at all since that day.

It's been a few weeks now—I'm honestly not sure how many—but I've barely gone anywhere, barely seen anyone, haven't attended school. Mom and Dad haven't pushed the matter. Even Jun has been uncomfortably kind given the circumstances.

The other Chosen have stopped by. Hikari and Takeru, of course. A big group of everyone sometimes. Even Miyako came by once she was feeling up to it.

Taichi-senpai's visited the most, Yamato-san hovering close by every time. I watch as they exchange looks, communicating with no more than a silent glance, their bodies tilting and twisting toward each other no matter where they stand or what they do, their hands very much like this—grazing, just on the edge of consciousness, but never making full contact, toying with the idea of holding hands.

Yes, everyone has been so kind and understanding. It's unnerving, confusing. It's more than I deserve.

And it doesn't erase the never-ending apathy.

My eyes linger on Ken's pale hand, toying with the idea of threading our fingers together, with the idea of, for once, being the one who needs the contact instead of the one providing it.

But there's a reason I've kept my distance—from him and from everyone else.

When I woke up, it was slow. My brain was mush. It took a while to register where I was and who I was and what the hell happened to lead me to a hospital bed this time. But once I remembered, that one minuscule thought was all it took to remind me of our failure.

No, my failure.

We almost died.

I was the first to fall, and we almost died.

It was my fault.

I wasn't strong enough. How did I not know I wasn't strong enough? How could I have been so reckless, so goddamn arrogant?

We should have waited. We should have gotten Senpai and the others once we knew the full extent of the infection, once we realized how dangerous the situation was.

I should have asked for help.

I failed them.

Failed as a leader. As their captain. As the one who wears the fucking goggles.

I pull my hand away to pinch the bridge of my nose and struggle to breathe properly. Struggle to breathe period.

Then, Ken's cold, nimble fingers slide down the underside of my wrist, across my palm, and push their way between mine, forcing me to hold his hand. Forcing me to touch him.

I failed him.

I don't deserve to touch him.

My hand clutches his anyway, clinging to him, desperate for the contact.

His body presses against my side, chest against my arm, thigh against thigh, and he rests his forehead against my temple. His free hand lands on my abdomen, then inches up to lay his palm directly over my heart.

A silent sob racks my body, and I gasp for air.

His fingers grab a fistful of my shirt, and he nuzzles his nose against my cheekbone, the tip gathering some of the hot wet tears spilling from my clenched eyes.

"We're in this together," he murmurs. "We always will be, you know. You don't get to carry the burden all by yourself." He pauses, flattening his hand over my heart again, then he presses my hand over his. "I won't let you."

"I thought I lost you," I choke out. "You just—you were out for so long. You wouldn't wake up."

"Feel my heartbeat, Dai," he says, and I concentrate on the unsteady rhythm under my hand, somehow still in sync with the spastic thump inside my chest. "I'm right here. You won't lose me."

"Ken…"

His name is a plea. A prayer.

I realize I'm begging, but I don't know what I'm begging for.

"I'm here." He squeezes the hand still clasped in his. "And I'm not going anywhere. Not without you."

At last, I open my eyes and turn toward him, ready to say something. Anything that means something.

My words fail the moment I register how close we are, the moment I see his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

I swallow thickly and reach my free hand to cup his cheek, thumb stroking velvety skin. "Ken."

"Daisuke," he whispers, his breath grazing my skin, fogging my senses, shortening my breath.

His gaze falls to my mouth, and I wet my chapped lips.

Then, he closes the distance between us, and I am lost in the soft caress of his mouth on mine. My fingers thread through his silky hair and hold the nape of his neck, drawing him closer, and he opens his mouth with a soft sigh. His tongue traces the seam of my lips, and I accept him wholly, groaning when we meet in the middle as one.

Ken releases my hand, only to clutch my shirt and cling to me. A little whimper escapes his mouth—sends a jolt of electricity through my body.

He pulls back just enough to speak. "I don't want to lose you either," he murmurs before drawing me into another kiss, short though it may be. "You can't hide like this again."

"I know." I wrap an arm around his waist and gather him on top of me with ease.

Then, we're kissing again, soft and sensual and hot and wet everywhere. His legs spread over my core, straddle my hips, pin me to the mattress—and draw way too much attention to the point where our bodies meet. The gym shorts can't hide what's underneath, and fuck, my boxers can't either.

I drop back from the kiss, head bumping the wall, and hiss as his stiffening hard-on rubs against mine, even through layers of clothing. My body reacts immediately, cock at full attention now, and I clamp my eyes shut and jut up against him, unable to contain myself, desperate to be close to him.

But Ken doesn't miss a beat.

He rocks his hips, drawing an eager moan from my lips, and scrapes his fingers down my sides. When he finds the bottom hem, he shoves the shirt up and palms my abs, then gasps when I thrust again.

This time, when he says my name, he moans it. His head is thrown back, facing the ceiling, black hair disheveled, and his eyes are shut, mouth half open, breath coming in gasps. And he is the most beautiful person I've ever met. The most beautiful person in the world.

"Daisuke," he moans again, bucking against me, but this time, there's the Ichijouji determination hiding behind his arousal. He gathers himself together and casts his gaze down to meet my eyes, and his rocking slows but doesn't stop. "You can't keep things like this from me again. No secrets, understand?"

His eyes are bright violet with lust, and I can't think.

Fuck, I don't want to think.

I hate thinking, and I've done far too much of it lately.

Besides, he's too goddamn sexy riding me. Why would I ever want to think of anything else? Except, you know, doing this without the stupid clothing in the way.

But wait.

What was he saying again?

Ken's panting, but the intensity in his eyes is more than just lust, though he's still rocking his hips, the pace slower now so I can focus. "This wasn't your fault. You can't carry the blame, Daisuke. At least, you can't carry it alone, you hear me?"

I take his hand in mine and kiss the knuckles. "I hear you."

He takes a shaky breath, bucks against my cock a final time, and leans down, close enough to wipe the sweat and tears from my cheek. "You've saved me countless times," he whispers, then plants an affectionate kiss to my lips. "I wouldn't be who I am today without you. I'd probably be dead without you."

My hand tightens around his, and I shake my head, ready to tell him, Don't say that. Don't think like that. It'd never happen, dammit.

But he covers my mouth with another kiss and rests his forehead on mine. "Please, let me save you this time."

My eyes sting again, and I surge forward to capture his lips. Our mouths move together, eager, demanding, desperate, as if we've done this every day of our lives. And I know, without a doubt, I want to keep doing this for the foreseeable future. Fuck, beyond the foreseeable future. Maybe forever.

"Okay," I say when we break apart to gasp for air. "Yes, okay, save me."

As long as I can kiss him and touch him and hold him and just be with him, he can save me as much as he wants.

#digimon #digimon tri #daisuke motomiya #ken ichijouji #fanfiction #digimon fanfiction #fanfic #digimon 02 #digi fic #my fanfiction #ptsd #daiken #anatui #anatui writes

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workitholland · 6 years ago

Text

Roommates - Tom Holland

WARNINGS: Smut, I think there may be some language..

Being roommates with the hottest guy on campus definitely had its perks, like getting to have movie nights every Saturday instead of partying. But it definitely also had its downsides, like Tom bringing home girl after girl, always leaving you to be woken by banging on the wall next door, presumably coming from the headboard of his bed. It would always be at ungodly hours, too.

Tom pushes the door to the shared dorm open, holding it for you as he lets you inside first. “Are you sure about this, Tom?” You ask hesitantly. “Parties aren’t really my thing.” He chuckles and waves his hand dismissively. “Of course! You’ve already bought your costume, and it’s Halloween! What kind of roommate would it make me if I just left you here?!” He crosses his arms, setting his bag with his costume in it onto the coffee table. You huff as you set your bag down next to his. You sit on the couch, reaching into his plastic bag to pull out his soldier costume, along with makeup.

“I want to look like i’ve just come out of the trenches!” He giggles, tearing his shirt off to replace it with the costume. You’d be lying if you said your eyes didn’t linger slightly on his bare chest and chiseled abs. He slipped the white shirt on, then the jacket and dog tags. He slips out of his jeans with no shame, standing in front of you in his boxers like it’s nothing. You have to stop yourself from looking up, not wanting to be caught in an awkward situation.

After he slips his pants on, you pat the couch next to you. “Sit. I have to take care of your high maintenance ass before I can even start on my costume.” You tease, starting to dab the makeup onto his face and neck, pulling the collar of his shirt down slightly to get his collarbones. “Like it’ll take you long to get into your angel costume.” He rolls his eyes, wanting to say that you don’t even need the costume to be an angel in his eyes, but he bit his lip instead. “Hey! You’re going to ruin the makeup!” You chastise, going back over the spot he just ruined.

As soon as you finished up on his makeup, you took some of the brown paint and rubbed it between your palms, then grabbing his shirt and spreading the paint out to make him look a little more dirty. “Perfect.” You say, biting your lip as you step back. “I know you are.” Tom mumbles under his breath, just low enough that you couldn’t make out what he said. “I-I’m gonna go get ready.” You stutter, grabbing your bag and rushing into the bathroom.

You take your costume out, and slip the white on. Looking in the mirror, you see that your costume really leaves nothing to the imagination. Your boobs are practically at your neck from the corset, and the skirt barely went halfway down your thighs. You shrugged it off, placing your halo on and starting on your makeup. You go for an all white look, with bright red lips.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you hear a small gasp leave the lips of Tom from the couch. “What? Do I look bad?” You ask, slowly becoming aware of the lack of clothes you have on. He shakes his head quickly. “No, quite opposite, actually.” He defends standing up off the couch, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Ready?” He asks, clearing his throat. You nod shyly, surly wishing you hadn’t agreed to go with him to this stupid party.

When you arrive, your stomach practically drops at the sight. Upon opening the door, you and Tom were met with tons of bodies pressed against each other in what looks like dancing, if you could even call it that. The scent of alcohol and sweat fills your nostrils, making you cough slightly. Tom looks at you, a huge smirk plastered to his face. “C’mon, let’s get some alcohol into you.” He suggests, but before you could protest you were already being dragged into the kitchen we’re there was an impressive selection of booze in front of you.

You reach for a wine cooler, and Tom chuckles. “I want to at least be sober enough to remember tonight.” You defend, making a smirk creep into his face. He picks up a shot of tequila and downs it, shaking his head as he sets the glass onto the counter. “I’m gonna need some more of those.” A small laugh escapes your mouth, and you push your bottle to your mouth to stifle it.

Ten shots and two wine coolers later, you’re practically carrying Tom out of the party and to your dorm. “You’re gorgeous.” He slurs, poking at your nose and missing terribly, his finger sliding down your lips instead. “And you’re drunk.” You retort, but can’t help the butterflies that emerge. You roll your eyes and blame it on the alcohol, sticking your key into the door of your dorm. Tom practically falls onto the couch, and you shut the door behind you, leaving him for a moment to change into something a little less revealing and a lot more comfortable.

You walk back out to him, pulling him up from the couch. “Tommy, let’s go.” You demand, all of his weight pushing you down onto the floor, his body landing on yours. “I could get used to this.” He hums, laying his head on your chest. You roll your eyes and push him off, standing up. You manage to get him up as well, and begin leading him towards his room. “No, Y/N.” He fights, “I wanna stay with you tonight.” He slurs, stumbling his way into your bedroom next to his. He lands with a thump on the bed.

“Let me at least get you in something comfortable.” You groan, putting him in the chair that sits in the corner of your room. You slide his jacket off, along with his boots and pants, leaving him in a dirty white tee and his boxers. “Don’t you think you should at least let me take you on a date before you undress me?” He giggles, and you roll your eyes as you remove the white tee, throwing it into the growing pile of clothes.

You walk into the bathroom across the hall, coming back with a wet cloth in hand. You wipe the paint off his face, making him elicit a giggle. You couldn’t help but smile at how cute he was when he was drunk. “Y/N” Tom calls as you throw the cloth into the pile of his dirty clothes and tug him into your bed. “Yes?” You respond, climbing into the other side of your bed. He slides close to you, his bare back against yours, your thin tank top not doing much to protect you from the heat of his body. “Thank you.” He hums before snoring quietly into your ear. You giggle, moving over slightly in hopes of getting some sleep tonight.

You feel a warm arm wrap around your waist, the body it’s connected to stretching out behind you. “Y/N?” You hear, and turn to meet Tom’s eyes. “Did we?” He questions, referring to his almost naked body, and the fact that the two of you were in your bed. You chuckle, shaking your head. “No, I just didn’t want any of your dirty clothes in my bed.” He chuckles then gets quiet again. “Wait, if we didn’t... you know.. then why am I in your bed?” He asks, going to sit up but the pounding headache forces him back down into the pillows.

“You were too stubborn and wouldn’t go into your bed and insisted on sleeping in here with me.” His eyes widen. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He apologizes, covering his eyes with his hands. “Don’t worry about it.” You smile, turning your body completely around to face him. His eyes were closed, probably shielding himself from the sunlight streaming through your windows. You stand up quick to shut them, then run to the bathroom to grab him pain killers and some water.

“What did I do to deserve such an amazing roommate?” He asks as he sees you set the water and pills onto the nightstand next to him. “I’m not sure, I ask myself that all the time.” You joke, slipping a movie into the DVD player before you lay back down in your bed. “It’s Saturday,” You say in response to his cocked eyebrow. “Figured we could start movie night a bit early.”

After watching two horrible movies off Netflix, Tom decided on putting in Titanic. As the sex scene in the car comes on the tv, you see Tom shift beside you. You look at him, and he keep his eyes fixed on the screen. You shrug it off, moving your eyes to watch the film again. Not even a minute later, you feel Tom’s hand on your cheek, turning your face until your eyes met his.

“Tell me to stop.” He insists as he leans in to connect your lips. “I’m not going to do that.” You say, grabbing his shoulders and closing the gap between the two of you. You hated how cliche it sounded, but you felt sparks. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, and you grant him access immediately. His hands slide down your body, stopping on your hips as you feel his grip tighten. He lifts you onto his lap, his hands now sliding down to your ass, as yours tangle themselves in his chocolate locks.

You let out a small whine as he disconnects your lips, chuckling up at you. Looking down at him, you can see his eyes filled with adoration, a look you had only seen on him with his family and pup. “Why didn’t you stop me?” He asks, knowing that you know of his past with females. “Because I see the look in your eyes, and I can’t help but feel the same way.” You confess, pushing your lips back onto his. He flips you over, hovering over your body. He rests comfortably between your legs as his lips begin to leave a trail down your neck and across your chest.

“Too much clothing.” He mumbles across your skin. Removing his lips from your chest, he places his hands on the neckline of your tank, ripping it completely in half. Much to his surprise, he’s met with your bare chest. You throw the ruined fabric across the room, pulling him down by his cheeks to place his lips on yours. He again started kissing down your neck, this time leaving a trail of wet, sloppy kisses all the way down to the waistline of your small shorts. He slips them off, taking your panties with it.

“Oh god, angel. You’re soaking wet, is this all for me?” He teases, running a finger through your slick folds, making you shiver. “It could’ve been young Leo DiCaprio, if i’m being ho- fuck!” You’re cut off when he plunges a finger into your heat. “Were you saying something?” He asks, a devilish smirk across his face. He adds a second finger when he hears your small whimpers, making your mouth drop open in ecstasy.

“That’s what I thought.” He teases, removing his fingers from your heat. You whine at the loss of contact, making him let out a low chuckle. “Needy, are we?” He looks down at your glistening folds, swiping his tongue across his lips like he’s looking at a full course meal. He dives in, wasting no time as he sucks gently on your clit. Within seconds, you’re already a writhing, morning mess under his touch.

“Fuck.. Tom!” You moan, grabbing hold of his locks again, pushing his face deeper into your cunt. He draws figure eights on your clit before proceeding to fuck you with his tongue. Your thighs clench around his face as you begin to shake uncontrollably. “Cum, baby.” He says against you, the vibrations sending you over the edge as you release all over his face. He helps you through your orgasm, not stopping until he’s licked you completely clean.

He moves back up by your face, running his hands through your hair as you catch your breath. “Fuck.” you manage, reaching down towards his boxers, seeing the tent in the middle. You stick your hand inside, reaching for his member, but he pulls your hand away. “No, this is about you.” He says sweetly, pressing a soft kiss onto your cheek. He takes his place between your legs again, slipping his boxers off, discarding them into the room somewhere.

You gulp as you see his length, causing him to smirk. “I won’t hurt you, Angel.” He says as he presses a kiss to your lips, lining himself up with your core. You give him a nod, signaling that you’re ready when he is. With one thrust, he slowly slides in, stopping when he bottoms out. “Fuck, baby. So tight.. so fucking tight.” He praises, running one hand down the exposed skin of your hip.

“Move, please.” You practically beg, causing him to begin to thrust slowly. He pulls out almost completely, then snaps his hips, completely filling you back up. You let out an estranged moan, gripping the bedsheets beneath you. He places his hands on your hips, his grip tight enough to leave bruises as he thrusts into you, hard. You throw your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans, but to your dismay, Tom is quick to remove them, pinning them above your head.

“Want to hear you, baby girl.” He moans, letting his head drop down into the crook of your neck. You feel the knot in your stomach tighten, and you take your nails down Tom’s back as you release, your walls fluttering around him. Your release triggers his, and he releases inside, his seed coating your walls in thick stripes. He pulls out, flopping down next to you, breath erratic.

“We should’ve done that much sooner.”

#tom holland au #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland prompt #tom holland headcannon #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland #spider man: homecoming #spiderman #mcu #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel #peter parker imagines #peter parker

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rougepetale · 6 years ago

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Just a little sniff (Soryu) (NSFW)

Fandom: Kissed by the Baddest Bidder (Love 365)

Pairing: Soryu Oh x himself x Reader

Warning: Masturbation and then a little sex later 18+

Note: this is part two of Just a little Jealous

which you can find right here https://rougepetale.tumblr.com/post/176850360838

You of course never got those panties back. You lost miserably at the poker table. MonClair tried time and time again to talk with you, but Soryu monopolized your time. He didn’t help you with the poker game, no he didn’t lift a finger.

Your punishment? You had to finish your shift without panties, thankfully it was only an hour left. The lack of panties had you turned on, every movement had your juices flowing, you were lucky that it didn’t show on your dress or any other surface.

Meanwhile, Soryu was sitting in your shared room, your panties sitting on the coffee table tempting him. He was already getting hard again when he was thinking of what he did to you in the elevator. He needed to contact security to erase the footage and for him to have the sole copy.

His eyes glanced at the clock every ten seconds, his fingers were antsy to touch the lacy black panties, to smell you. He bit his lip, his self-control was dwindling at an alarming rate.

He tried to distract himself with calling Inui and Samejima, they told him that there was nothing going on and for him to enjoy his time alone.

That was not that he needed, he needed to be distracted otherwise ____ may catch him in the heat of the moment. He stood and paced around the room, his eyes would land on the panties every pass he made.

He remembered when he bought those for you. You blushed ten shades of red when he picked it out for you, he remembered when you protested claiming that you enjoyed your granny panties. And here those beautiful lacy panties sat, taunting him and teasing him.

With a growl he stalked towards the offensive garments and snatched them from the coffee table. Instantly his fingers picked up on the dampness that was still on the panties. He nearly toppled over when he took the next step as all the blood in his body went to his dick, he wasn’t expecting them to still be damp. You must have been drenched during your little escapade in the elevator.

His fists clenched over the damp intimate material, transferring the garment to his other hand his right hand immediately found its way to his face. He took a tentative sniff, what he smelt was divine.

He faltered once again in his quest to the bedroom, his body was autopilot and it knew exactly where it wanted to go. His attention was focused purely on his carnal desires so much that he didn’t notice that his body took him to the bed, falling backwards the panties fell from his hand and onto your side of the bed his right hand stretched up he looked at his outstretched hand.

His hand lifted up towards the ceiling as he absentmindedly looked at his fingers, imagining that they were dripping in your juice. He brought his fingers to his nose again to get another hit of the intoxicating aroma that he knew was purely you, a scent he was only privy to. He imagined you screaming his name as he pleasured you with these very fingers, it was all so vivid in his mind’s eye.

It was then that he felt a growing need in his dick, he had neglected it for far too long, and he thought he would be sated with the quickie in the elevator…. But noooo…. No, his dick told him otherwise.

Soryu quickly rid himself of his suit and placed his pajama bottoms beside him. Everything felt better when he was in the nude, the silky caressed his body just right, it was the best substitute that he had for your warm walls.

Every time he thought of you his hand found his dick. His manhood was hard and throbbing, to the point that it was quite painful.

“Damn it ______” he hissed, he hadn’t had this painful boner in years, not since his adolescent days, “Do you see what you do to me” he talked to the air. His right hand absentmindedly stroked his dick as he thought about being buried in your folds. His hand got busy, pumping harder and faster, his mind strayed to every time he had fucked you, drawing inspiration from his memory.

His hand was a sad substitution for the real deal. He chanted your name over and over again as he worshipped your memory, he could easily page you and you’d be there in a few minutes but then you’d see him pleasuring himself and he wasn’t quite sure that he want you to see that yet.

He closed his eyes and could see your face screwed up in pleasure, your mewls of pleasure as your delicate fingers wrapped around his cock, he imagined that it was your hand, not his.

“Gods” he groaned, his hands pumping fast. However he was not much closer to finishing that seconds ago. The illusion was not complete, there was but one missing element. Without conscious thought Soryu’s left hand sought the lacy panties and found them immediately.

He brought them to his nose and sighed heavily, he was hooked, he was hooked on you to the point that he couldn’t cum without you. He rubbed your lacy panties over his cock. The added stimulation sent him over.

The orgasm that rippled through his body was an out of body experience for him as he came hard. He fell asleep quickly after, his energy spent.

It was an hour later and you opened the door, “Soryu?” you called out.

You were greeted with silence, which was deafening to you, it was very unusual for Soryu to fall asleep before you, especially since you were being punished by him. You placed your things on the coffee table as you tip toed through the pent house. Taking a quick shower you quickly made your way to bed, you couldn’t wait to snuggle up next to him.

The sight that you were greeted with was like none other. Soryu was splayed out on the bed…. And naked, the room smelt of sex and sweat. Clutched in his hand was your panties that he had taken from you earlier. A blush settled on your cheeks as you moved quietly around the room, not wanting to disturb him.

“____?” came his groggy voice. You paused not wanting to wake him, he must have been exhausted after whatever he enjoyed.

Your attempt at being subtle failed miserably as Soryu began to sit up, “_____?” he asked again, yawning.

“Go back to bed darling” you cooed. Changing into your soft blue and grey teddy. You saw him sit up, he grabbed your forearm and pulled you close, and his lips sought yours hungrily.

“Like hell I would be going back to sleep” his voice was low and raspy, “You have no idea how much I have been waiting for you.” His fingers, skillful found your heat and stroked it to a burning inferno, even when he was half asleep he knew the layout of your body.

You fell into his chest, his lips found your neck and you could feel Soryu becoming excited. “Oh I can tell you’ve waiting for me… I think you even started the party without me.”

Soryu chuckled, ‘Oh you have no idea…’ he thought, he breathed in your scent, damn you were so intoxicating. “I love you.”

You blushed, he didn’t say it very often, he was more of a show than tell guy, he grabbed the silky teddy and pulled it up and over your head, your body bare to his eyes, you were blushing under his intense gaze. “I….I love you too Soryu” you said bashfully.

He laid you down on the bed, letting your hair splay out like a halo, he decided to take his time with you, savoring every sigh and shudder, letting it be imprinted upon his memory. His hands traced the curved of your body leaving a trail of heat from your jaw to your core. He loved the sighs of enjoyment that escaped your mouth, “That’s my girl.” He praised, he gently pulled your thighs apart and settled snuggly between your thighs, much better than even his best memory.

“Oh Soryu!” you gasped out. He took his time pleasuring you, he had not been gentle in the elevator but this made up for that. He was your prince charming tonight. His stroked were slow and sensual. His fingers found your folds, stroking you at just the right amount of pressure that made your body shiver and squirm. “S-Soryu!” you gasped out, your hands grabbed his back. Your fingernails leaving grooved in his back.

“______” Soryu gasped, he loved when you clung to his body. He grabbed your leg and kissed where he could reach. “You’ve changed me ______,” he smirked as he increased his tempo, “I cannot be with any other girl, you are the only one for me.”

That declaration of love had your heart and heat clenching in joy, you loved it when he told you these things. His increased speed served to only push you to completion, his words and actions had you full in no time.

The crescendo was beautiful, it was such a beautiful complementary to the elevator that had you smiling at the memory, you were so lucky to have a man who could pleasure you both ways, hard and fast, and slow and gentle. “I’ll never let you go.” He declaired.

“Good because you’re stuck with me.” You said with a smile.

It was far too early in the morning when there was a knock on the door, “Room Service!” came a female voice on the other side, Soryu really didn't want to get up, he was perfectly content to stay tangled up with you. Putting on a pair of boxers Soryu came to the door.

“Yes?” he hissed. The girl smiled at him.

“You ordered room service, I’m delivering to... Mr. Oh?” He grabbed the letter and found it in Eisuke’s handwriting. On the platter was a DVD titled “What goes up” and some orange juice and pancakes. He rubbed his face and sighed, he knew he wouldn't hear the end of his teasing any time soon.

#Soryu Oh #kbtbb soryu #Voltage smut #voltage inc

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rahirah · 6 years ago

Note

For DVD commentary: the Spawn fake dating scene in The Road to Byzantium. "Try an' look debauched here!" etc. etc.

For reference: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11428

Okay, the scene in question takes place in the middle of the story – it's the summer when Buffy is dead, the Knights of Byzantium have come back and captured Dawn and Anya, and chipped-up Spike is trying to rescue them, under the handicap of not being able to hurt humans. Spike and Anya have concluded that just rescuing Dawn isn't enough; they have to ensure that the Knights never come back. And to do that, they need to convince the Knights that Dawn isn't the Key any longer. To that end, Dawn has given Spike a mouthful of her blood, hoping that will convince the Knights that she's no longer "pure" and therefore not the Key. Unfortunately, Key blood has some unanticipated side effects...

"Spike," Dawn croaked, "what's the plan?" He was still wearing that lunatic grin, and his pupils were enormous black wells in his amber eyes - well, they would be in the dark, wouldn't they? His body radiated an un-vampire-like warmth. "There is a plan, right?"

My idea here was that if Slayer blood is a stimulant for vampires, Key blood is vampire crack. Spike is as high as a kite.

"'Course I've got a plan." Spike sounded offended. "Got lots of plans. Oodles of plans! Plenty of plans, all of them cracking good plans, too! What demon girl said, yeh? Shush, it's General Wossface, with enough arrows in his quiver to re-enact the martyrdom of St. Sebastian. Oooh, not sporting, not sporting at all!"

It was a lot of fun writing manic, run-on word-salad dialogue for him, just tossing a bunch of pop culture and classical allusions together.

Aethelred halted at a safe distance and folded his arms across his chest. "Vampire! This charade is pointless. You cannot hurt us, and you would no more harm the Key than her sister would. Until Brother Selwin can examine her, I'm loath to chance the girl's death - but I will kill both of you rather than let her escape." He waved at the bristling arc of bowmen. "Turn the Key over to me, and we will allow you and the demon woman to leave."

One thing I enjoy doing in fic is taking Joss's throwaway McGuffins and fleshing them out some. So I tried to give the Knights a little more personality, and put some thought into how their organization works in the modern world. Not all of that gets into the fic, of course, because it's not relevant, and infodumps are tiresome for the reader. But one of the things I figured is that the Knights take a new name when they join the Order, sort of like a nun getting a new name when they take holy orders. Except instead of Biblical-type names, they're all Old English.

"Aren't we ever so manly? P'raps you've noticed..." Spike tugged the front of his t-shirt up. The cloth was a shredded mess, and the pale, concave belly underneath it was peppered with the tiny black dots of buckshot wounds, but there was no blood. "You can't hurt me, either. Seems our Dawn's blood puts Lydia Pinkham to shame. Could be it'll work on headaches, too. Want to find out?"

Dagobert's jaw clenched, causing his mustache to bristle like a belligerent hedgehog. He took a step forward, and the General laid a restraining hand on his arm. Dawn could see him working out the odds. Unless they hit Spike's heart dead on, the bolts wouldn't stop him any more than the shotgun had. She knew that Spike couldn't keep up the super-speed indefinitely, and the pain from the chip would get worse the more damage Spike tried to inflict, but the knights' briefing might not have been that thorough.

Also my Knights are a tad more competent than their canon counterparts. They did their homework before trying for Dawn again.

"Thought not," Spike purred. "Now. Let's us have a chat. You'd kill her, yeh, you've stones enough for that. But it'll eat at you. Every night, for the rest of your days, you'll wake, and you'll see her eyes staring back at you out of the dark." His hand cupped her cheek, dry and strangely warm. Dawn thought it trembled a little. "So bloody beautiful..." He blinked and shook himself, lapsing in and out of game face like he couldn't remember which was which. "Wages of being a good man. 'Course," his grin grew sharper, more predatory. "I'm makin' the assumption that you are a good man."

I did want the readers to get the idea that Aethelred was a good man, who's genuinely conflicted about his duty. Which is the main reason that Spike and Dawn's con works; he really doesn't want to kill an innocent girl. Well, that and some help from Orlando (whom this story posits survived getting knifed by his comrades, and who was not at all a happy camper.)

Aethelred said nothing. Dawn hoped that was a good sign. Spike couldn't lie to Buffy to save his life, but put him in a situation like this and he turned into Gielgud. Or at least Matt Damon.

"Things have changed since you and your band of merry men last took the Sunnydale tour." Spike held Dawn's bleeding wrist up for all to see and ran his tongue along the length of her forearm, starting slick and human-soft, ending demon-rough. "Delicious," he drawled, stretching the word out like warm taffy. "You say I won't kill her, and you're right. But you've got the whys of it all wrong. Slayer's rotting in the ground - what's a promise to her, now? You want the Key neutralized. And for me it's all about the blood. Seems to me we can both get what we want, without you losing sleep of nights."

"And how do you propose to... neutralize her?" Aethelred demanded, in a voice as stiff as his spine.

Spike's chuckle was possibly the filthiest thing Dawn had ever heard. "Already done, Prince Valiant. Key's supposed to be pure, yeh?" His hand slipped upwards from her waist. "An' she's anything but, now that I'm in the picture."

"Spike!" Dawn hissed. "You're touching my boob!"

"Blimey, Sherlock, I hadn't noticed!" Spike hissed back. "Try an' look debauched here!"

In the scene before this one, Spike and Anya discussed various forms of mystical impurity, and because I really dislike the popular connection of moral purity with virginity (which is a completely arbitrary social construct, don't get me started) I had Anya debunk the idea ("Magicians are sexist, but magic isn't.") However, Spike knows damned well that that's the first thing most people will think of, and so he's trying his damnedest to hint broadly at the connection to Aethelred.

Dawn dropped her voice to a Penthouse moan. "Oh, Spike!" She tossed her head back in her best impersonation of a romance-novel cover painting. Why should Spike have all the good lines? "My purity is totally sullied! Bite me harder! You make it hurt soooooo good!"

The millisecond of absolute horror that flashed across Spike's face was pretty much worth the admission for the whole night. He recovered fast, though. "There, you've heard it from her lips. Impure as I am. Her power's no use to anyone any longer. 'Cept me."

Poor Spike. :D One thing I try to do is...OK, the main pairing in the Barbverse is Spuffy; says so on the tin. But Buffy and Spike each have all kinds of other relationships, and I want to write those relationships with enough depth and subtext that if the Barbverse were a stand-alone cration, people would be shipping non-canon pairings. And in this case, Dawn has a very textual crush on Spike, and this story gave me a chance to play with that.

"So you would suggest, then," Dagobert said with an icy sneer, "That as good men, we hand over a girl scarcely more than a child to a creature as loathsome as you, to be used for your pleasure?"

Spike snorted. "There's consistency for you. You're willing to have murder on your conscience, but you balk at a spot of pandering?"

I like having Spike around to point this stuff out...

"Maynard! Aelfric!" the General snapped.

A pair of dark-robed clerics pushed through the line of bowmen and hastened to their leader's side. Maynard folded his hands into his sleeves and bowed deeply. "Your will, my lord?"

"The vampire claims," the General said tersely, "To have made the girl his... doxy." His lip curled with distaste.

"Doxy's such a nasty word," Spike murmured. "I prefer 'box lunch.'"

Despite the subtext, I wanted Spike to be quite clear that he's biting, not, er, anything else.

"Be that as it may," Aethelred said. "The undead are vile creatures. What chance is there his... association with the girl has corrupted her essence?"

The clerics frowned, putting their heads together - Spike could probably hear every word, but to Dawn it was only indecipherable mumbling. Her head was pounding, and the torches were surrounded by pulsing haloes of light. What was wrong with her?

Bwhahah. To find that out you'll have to read the rest of the story.

#buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #fan fiction #fic discussion #writing #thenewbuzwuzz

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acloading322 · 3 years ago

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Best Pc Character Creation Games

Rpg Games With Character Creation

Best Pc Character Creation Games Unblocked

Character customization is an integral part of the MMORPG genre. Being able to create a character that fits a specific persona can help players immerse themselves in the game. Limited customization may not be a deal breaker for everyone, but I know many people who won't even play a game if classes are gender locked or if they can't customize their character in a certain way. Every MMORPG has a character creation menu with some customization, but some games take character creation a bit more seriously. I personally don't think character creation makes or breaks a game, but it can be incredibly fun fiddeling around on a game's character creation menu, especially when there are tons of sliders and customization options. https://acloading322.tumblr.com/post/656066514641977344/sri-venkateswara-songs-download. I personally spent over an hour creating the perfect Victoria Secret hottie in Black Desert Online and I have no regrets. Anyway, whether you're looking to fiddle around or genuinely interested in playing games with only the best character creation systems, check out the list below:

MMORPGs with Great Character Customization

Black Desert Online

Normally these lists save the best for the last, but I'm going to go ahead and start this list off strong with what I consider to be the MMORPG with the best character creation system in the world. Black Desert Online is a gorgeous fantasy action MMORPG by the South Korean developer Pearl Abyss. Its character creation system is incredibly in-depth and allows players to customize everything from hair strands to eyeliner in incredible detail. Simply put, Black Desert is the gold standard of character creators in MMOs. Just check out the video above, which starts by showing off the game's character creator. Even if you have no interest in playing Black Desert, the character creator alone makes it worth the download in my opinion. The only downside here is that classes are gender locked.

Best Character Creation Games (Good Character Customization) Have you ever wanted to create your very own anime hero/heroine? Well, Jump Force is the game for you, if so. The game’s character. Nonton drama korea couple or trouble subtitle indonesia. Browse the newest, top selling and discounted Προσαρμογή χαρακτήρα products on Steam. Blender is a free and open source character creator software for Windows. It is quite a popular and advanced software which is used in 3D Modeling, 3D animation, 2D animation, Simulation, VFX, Game Creation, Video Editing, Rendering, Scripting, etc.

Perfect World

Games which offer more limited customization might simply let players choose from a set number of variables (Tony Hawk's American Sk8Land, Halo 3 multiplayer or Lego Star Wars 2 for instance). Non-Player Character Creation This is where the player is creating a character with whom they will be interacting or meeting, rather than playing as.

Singleplayer games featuring character creation, allowing you to customize the physical appearance of your character(s). Recent Reviews Top Sellers New Releases Discounts Review Type All 0 Recommended Informational 51 Not Recommended 0. Filter to All 393 Action 26.

It may be odd to see such an old MMORPG make it to this list, but despite originally launching in 2005 (in China) and 2008 in the West, Perfect World has an in-depth character creation system that goes above and beyond what most games offer. While most games allow reasonable levels of customization, Perfect World allows players to create absurd looking characters, from tiny heads and huge bodies to characters with glowing pink skin. Obviously players don't NEED to make absurd looking characters, but the fact that the game allows this shows off the extent of the game's customization. Even if you're not looking to make a Frankenstein style character, Perfect World has A LOT of customization sliders for everything from eye size to arm length.

This one is a bit of an oldie, as it released back in 2004, but Eve Online still has some of the best customization in any MMO. Even though there are a ton of options, players never really get to see much of their customization, as the game takes place almost exclusively in your ship. Still, if you want to see an awesome character creator at work, check out Eve Online. Especially since it went free to play in November, 2016.

Aion

Aion originally launched as a buy to play subscription game by NCSoft, but later went free to play. Despite originally launching in 2008, Aion still looks quite beautiful even today and features some of the best character customization I've seen in an MMORPG. Just take a look at the video above to see what the game's character creator offers.

Despite never launching in the West officially, the Japanese version of the game is playable by anyone from the West without any IP restrictions. The sci-fi MMORPG from Sega features one of the most in depth character customization systems of any MMO. Interested in checking the game out? See our guide on how to install and play PSO2 in English.

Champions Online

Rpg Games With Character Creation

Champions Online is a unique game on this list because it's not another fantasy themed MMORPG. Instead, it's a superhero themed MMORPG, which means players get to create their very own superheroes. The game originally launched back in 2009 as the successor to City of Heroes and one of the game's most prominent features is its in-depth character customization system. Given the nature of superheroes, the developers wanted every player to have a truly 'unique' character. Not only do players get to customize their character's body, but they get to create their own unique costume as well.

Blade and Soul

Blade and Soul originally released in South Korea back in 2012 but didn't launch in the West until early 2016. While the game doesn't offer nearly as much character customization as Black Desert, the game has a lot of sliders to play with. Blade and Soul also has a unique art style, which makes character models stand out a bit more too.

APB Reloaded

Although not an MMORPG, APB Reloaded features a surprisingly in-depth character creation system. I mean, just take a look at the video above and see for yourself. For those that haven't heard of APB, the game originally launched as simply 'APB All Points Bulletin' with a buy to play model, but after bankruptcy it was acquired by GamersFirst and relaunched as a free to play game and was renamed APB Reloaded.

There are obviously many more MMORPGs out there with 'good' character customization, but am I missing any games with 'great' customization? If so, let me know in the comments below and I'll update this list!

A massive part of gaming, especially in RPGs, is creating a custom avatar. Proteus 8 setup download.

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While not completely necessary - as games such as The Witcher 3, Horizon Zero Dawn and God of War have shown - having the ability to customise your playable character adds a whole new layer of immersion everything on-screen. By creating a protagonist to represent you, you enable a strong emotional connection between you and your character, enjoying the journey just that little bit more.

There are so many games out there that offer fantastically expansive character creation tools, but some stand head and shoulders above the rest. For the purposes of making things fair, we will not be counting customisation available through mods, so unfortunately for all you Skyrim enthusiasts, that one is out.

For those of us who just love to spend a solid couple of hours playing around in the character creation screen, these are the best that video games have to offer.

10. Monster Hunter: World

Monster Hunter conquered the West in 2017 with its latest and greatest - Monster Hunter World. Take control of your hunter and together you will face gigantic dinosaurs, working together with your friends in a little posse of monster-killing-mayhem.

Being a game that you will no doubt play online and enjoy showing off your mad hunting skills, you’ll want your avatar to be as equally stunning as your bravery. Monster Hunter World’s character creator is absolutely gorgeous, and very detailed. There are dozens of hair styles to choose from, with colour, tone, and saturation options bringing infinite possibilities.

You can choose from tons of examples for voice, too, picking the exact right pitch of scream for when you inevitably fall to some of the game’s toughest beasties.

Best Pc Character Creation Games Unblocked

Not to mention, there are options to customise your cat-like Palico as well. It’s like 2 character creators rolled into one.

Stick that beautiful face into some of the beautiful armour sets available in the game and you’ve got levels of customisation the likes of which are rarely seen in such an action-focused game.

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