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youryanderedaddy · 3 years ago

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Love Fuel

Summary: You were Jason’s first love before you broke his heart and rejected him. It’s all your fault that he can’t move on.

Tw: female reader, obsessive behavior, incel behavior, nice guy behavior, self - hatred, threats of non-con, implied non - con, implied masturbation, bullying based on appearance (not reader), deregatory language, kidnapping, misogyny, generalizations, stalking

this is a hot mess but its 1 am and i am tired, ik that incels are bad irl (obviously), but this is fiction and I kinda wanted to explore the dynamic and shit.

Everyone used to call him JJ or The-Big-Jay back in high school. Well, most of the time his classmates weren’t really calling out to him or even talking to him, the names were whispered behind his back, after he had just passed the hallway, or on bad days - right to his face. The jocks, these dumb motherfuckers, would beat him up, mock him for whatever stupid reasons they had chosen to use as an excuse to torment the smaller and weaker. The popular girls would giggle like brainless bimbos as Kyle or Brad or any other football player stole his glasses or continuously punched him in the guts until he threw up all over the floor. Even the nerds, the kids at the bottom of the school hierarchy, messed with Jason from time to time when they wanted to feel the oh - so desired rush of power they so rarely managed to experience.

Looking back, Jason could see why his classmates hated him so much - he was everything that society deemed as wrong and unattractive. He was thin, pale, “scrawny” as the others called him, on the shorter side, and on top of that the teen was terribly shy and introverted, never having the guts to stand up to his bullies or even tell someone about the abuse. The male spent most of his free time at home, playing hours upon hours of video games, watching anime and reading books he was simply too young to understand or look critically at. As he grew older, the man began to view the world as it trully was - a dark, miserable place that ate up sore losers like him. Men were primitive and foolish, which somehow managed to soften their faults. Women, on the other hand, were calculative and manipulative, greedy and sinful. His whole life they had done nothing but reject him when he needed love and support the most. Of course, there were many other reason why the brunette detested the weaker sex. In his eyes women were evil two - faced sluts, showing off their bodies yet acting innocent and hurt once someone finally decided to use them for the only thing they were actually good for.

But you Jason hated the most. You reminded him that no matter how much he hated the outside world, he would always hate himself the most. He had to admit you were pretty, painfully so, with a perfect little body to match your looks and a sweet sugary smile that almost deceived him years ago. As much as the man regretted his weakness, he had fallen right into your trap at the time.

You weren’t the most popular girl, but you had your fair share of friends, all nice and loyal like puppies. You weren’t the smartest either, but unlike the other stupid giggling sluts you always tried to do your best. You were beautiful just like them but you were actually kind to the pathetic bullied kid no one else bothered to acknowledge even existed outside of being a punching bag. You always asked him whether he was alright and often took him to the infirmary when he looked paler and sicker than usual. You talked to him as if he was a normal human being and despite the initial doubt, Jason appreciated it.

It was the last day of your senior year when the teen finally gained the courage to confess. He was shaking the whole time and by the end of his little speech there were small tears in the corner of his eye. You were the first girl the male cared about, the first one to show him kindness, to offer him friendship without asking for something in return. You were the only one who could make him feel deserving of love, worthy of affection. And then you took it all away in a matter of seconds.

“I am sorry, bud.” You had said that day after giving him a half - hearted hug and an apologetic smile, that started to seem more and more like a mocking grin the longer the teen started at you. “I already have a boyfriend, but I am really flattered. I am sure that you will find a lovely girl once you start college.” You had added quickly, cheerfully, rubbing the salt all over his wounds, honey dripping from your plump red lips. He had wanted to kiss them, bruise them, bite them until your stupid lying mouth was filled with blood. Obviously you didn’t have a boyfriend or he would have known by now, he stalked your social media religiously after all. Even if you had one, he probably treated you like shit. And how could you even suggest him finding another woman? As if he wanted any of the stupid money - grabbing sluts out there. As if some of them could replace you.

The boy was too furious to form a proper response besides “Fuck you, bitch”. His cheeks turned red and he didn’t realise that the bitter words had escaped his lips before he could stop them, then his legs took him far away from that shithole of a school. He didn’t manage to see your reaction before running away but it didn’t matter anymore. You were just like the others.

***

That day Jason swore to show you just how small and insignificant you had made him feel. He wanted to see you crumble, cry and beg for forgiveness, desperate for his love but never good enough to get it. The man formed a plan to change himself and come back for you once he had erased each and every trace of his past. The brunette came to terms with his terrible social anxiety and decided that he needed to gain social abilities more than anything. That’s why, as much as he dreamt of working from home as a boring programmer with an even more boring, but flexible working schelude, the male chose to study something that involved a lot more human interactions. The next step was to hit the gym for the first time and get a monthly subscription. It wasn’t hard to see that females nowadays liked brain - dead athletes with defined jawline and cheekbones, toned chests and strong muscled bodies, so if he wanted to impress you, he had to look his best. It wasn’t easy at first - it felt like everyone in the fitness salon had their eyes on his weak frame, laughing and pointing their fingers at his imperfections, but things gradually got better as time went on. The trainings became easier to get through and from time to time they even helped the man forget about his loneliness and nihilism.

Jason soon returned to his old habbit of spending hours looking through your accounts - Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, he knew all of your usernames, each post, every picture and text. He couldn’t believe how much of a desperate attention whore you had become over the years. The male remembered you in your long brown skirts, cozy sweatshirts and pure-white shirts, all the gray buttons closed to the very top, blushing, laughing, smiling like the adorable Goody-two-shoes you were. Now you were smirking seductively in every photo, overconfident and vibrant, flaunting your tits for every man to see and wearing tight little dresses that barelly covered your ass combined with heels so high and sharp they could be used as a weapon. You were such a stupid slut it was disgusting, and he couldn’t stop himself from jerking off every single time he saw your pretty little face on the screen. He wanted to cum down your throat so badly it was ridiculous, and even after knowing that you had probably already had hundreds of cocks shoved deep inside your pussy, the brunette still wished to see you split open on his, taking his lenght like a good little cocksleeve.

***

The moment when he could see you again finally came. How many years had passed since graduation - five, ten, fifthteen? It hardly mattered. Jason was successful, at last. The male had his own business that was doing surprisingly well, there were some guys from the gym he could call friends and the best thing, he looked absolutely unrecognizable. There was nothing left of the tiny scrawny kid with quiet voice that everyone stepped over, he was now replaced by a strong capable man, determined to get what was rightfully his and his alone.

It wasn’t hard to find you since the brunette knew everything about you - where your job was, what time you finished, how long it took you to go home and what path you took. You lived alone and worked as a barista in a small local cafe even now that you had finished your studies in your dream faculty. Turns out the princess wasn’t so great and smart after all, having to resort to working a minimal - wage job day and night just to be able to pay her rent. Jason was absolutely delighted though, he loved your stupid dead - end job and your endless struggles to survive in the materialistic world honestly and fairly without selling yourself like a common whore. On one hand the male was happy that you had clung onto your last bit of innocence and on the other your pitiful lifestyle gave him the chance to snatch you away much easier. And that’s exactly what he did.

***

You woke up confused just like he had expected, bombarding him with questions, asking him who he was was, begging him to let you go, to at least explain what’s happening. You were so dumb, but God, you were still so pretty, if not prettier than before. You cried so beautifully when Jason told you you belonged to him now and you cried even more when he slammed his cold rough lips over yours in a deep wet kiss. You whimpered and whined while the male sucked on your lower lip and bit down, good, he wanted it to hurt. The stalker couldn’t wait to be inside you, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

He climbed on top of you and pinned your wrists to the floor before tying them up with delicate red rope and tightening it. It wasn’t like the man was scared of you slipping away and hurting him, you were too weak and tiny to stand a chance against his years of power - lifting and muscle - training anyways, he just wanted you to be as uncomfortable and squirmish as possible. Your tormentor wished for you to be in worse pain than he had been during his youthful years, and he knew exactly what to do. Next thing you knew Jason had ripped your dress apart, leaving you vulnerable and exposed in just your plain old panties and bra. Cold shivers ran down your spine when the chilly air hit your naked flesh and you finally realized there wasn’t getting away from this. You had to stay there, limbs bound together, unable to move or fight back, the stranger’s hands caressing your neck before moving dangerously close to your clothed breasts. You felt so sick you were going to throw up for sure if your abductor didn’t step back so you decided to use your last resort.

“Jason, please stop!” You screamed out of the blue, forcing the brunette to freeze instantly at the use of his birth name. You had already called him a pervert and a psycho which didn’t seem to faze him, but the name clearly caught him off guard. This only seemed to prove your theory further - the man really was your former classmate, despite the only similarity between them being the dark distant look in his eyes. “I beg you, don’t hurt me!” You continued, hoping to at least buy yourself more time before the assault took place.

He gulped loudly and stared at your quivering form. The impossible had happened, you had recognized him and now together with fear, there was also pity in your gaze, the one emotion your captor absolutely despised. You used to be the only one who pitied him, and even now that he was bigger, better and stronger than before, you still had the guts to pity him. It drove him insane but any attempt to hurt or touch you was fruitless now - your soft skin was suddenly burning his fingers like hellfire.

“You must be thinking that I am a monster.” Jason started out dryly, chuckling bitterly, humorlessly even. He clenched his fists unconsciously and brought them to the floor in a fit of rage, missing your head by mere inches. Your heart was beating like crazy and you only hoped the mandman couldn’t hear it. “A freak.” The man spat out the word like it was a curse and for a split second his eyes softened before turning into two spinning torches. “Right?” You were sure that if looks could kill, his would have you dead by the end of the night so you quickly nodded your head no.

“You are lying to me again, pretty girl.” The brunette replied feisty, "pretty” rolling off his tongue like an insult. Then he broke into hoarse maniac laugher and lowered his head so his face leveled up with yours, so close you could feel his warm breath on your tear - stained cheek. “When I am done with you, you wouldn’t be so pretty anymore, darling.” Your captor growled and attacked your neck, sinking his teeth deep into the flesh. “You will see exaclty how ugly my love is.”

#yandere #yandere oneshot #male yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere oc #yancore #yandere male x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut #yandere x you

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rayshippouuchiha · 4 years ago

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Nezu finding a younger Izuku and helping him hone his analysis skill (and build some confidence and ultimately creating a terrifying child who can analyze anyone in seconds and take them down just as fast with a smile) and then enlisting him to actually teach classes on the subject

just imagine Aizawa having to interact with this terrifying nightmare child who can read him better than a book

~Ah hell here we go again~ Read More Below!

Nezu doesn’t often leave UA’s grounds these days and even more rarely does he venture out unaccompanied in some way. He has made it a habit of sorts to stay on the campus as much as possible ever since he solidified his hold on the school almost a decade ago.

It’s a move that is he admits, even if only to himself, fueled by equal parts pragmatism and paranoia.

After all UA has most of everything he needs within it already including a set of private apartments scaled just perfectly to his size and tastes despite what impression the large, human suited desk in his public office tends to give any visitors to his domain. Why should he worry about venturing out into the city when anything the campus might not be able to provide for him can easily be procured by his minions dear employees or through delivery via secured drone?

And the fewer trips he makes off campus means the fewer opportunities there are for those who are still displeased with something someone such as himself holding such a position of power over such a prestigious hero school to take action. He, of course, has all faith in his ability to protect himself from whatever ham-fisted assassin might come his way but Nezu is, above almost all else, pragmatic.

The fewer bodies left in his wake the smoother his daily life tends to run.

It had, after all, been such a pain to get the records from his time at the tender mercies of his human captors completely sealed and the quietly buried.

The humans involved in the case had finally agreed though and in the years since they did so like to tout how the illustrious UA Principle had been “rescued” from the laboratories.

Few remained who remembered what the heroes who’d raided that hellish place had actually found when they’d arrived.

Those unlucky few who did remember had long since been silenced by hook or by crook. That had been one of the first things Nezu had done when he’d finally managed to accumulated enough power that his subtle threats and sharp toothed promises had finally come to hold real meaning on more than one level.

When he’d finally managed to bite and claw himself into a position of power that showed him as the threat he always had been for those who might dare cross him.

That had been the very first secret he’d ensured would be kept as it was one that posed the biggest threat to his reputations in a number of circles.

Nezu’s intellect wasn’t his only weapon after all, only his most dangerous. Though his teeth and claws could work in a pinch if the situation called for it. And when they’d tried to take his eye it had certainly called for it.

A self professed level of resentment and sadism could be excused by most of humanity for someone of Nezu’s circumstances.

But a body count? Well. That’s when humans tended to get ... tetchy.

So while Nezu does, of course, have a residence of his own off campus for paperwork purposes and as a secondary fall back location, UA’s campus has been his unofficial residence for some number of years now. And it will be his official one as well as soon as he manages to finally get the dorm system he’s been aching to implement passed through.

They will have to pry that school, his school, and what he’s attempting to build there from his cold, dead paws and whatever other insurance policies he manages to put into action between now and his inevitable death. Which will, of course, be some time in the far far future if he has anything to say or do about it. And he will.

All of that aside there are times when leaving the campus is unavoidable, this being one of them. An unfortunate scheduling conflict and a private meeting that absolutely had to be conducted in person had left him where he is now, strolling down the sidewalks of Musutafu and quietly lamenting how very oversized so many things were.

It truly was a pity that more accommodations had not been made for those whose quirks and circumstances of birth left them on the smaller side instead of on the larger scale. But progress could be rather unfortunately slow and so it was just one more issue Nezu hoped to begin subtly influencing in the coming years.

He’s just turning a corner, intent on visiting a nearby cafe with an excellent tea selection before he returns to UA (one must have their indulgences and a good brew and a finely crafted cigarette have long been amongst Nezu’s chosen pleasures), when he hears it.

“Get back here and get what you deserve, Deku,” a voice, rough and young but edged with a viciousness that makes the backs of Nezu’s teeth itch, practically howls.

Nezu, attention instantly captured, pauses just long enough to avoid being mowed down by the child who comes tearing around the corner.

For a split second their eyes meet, a blazing green gaze Nezu can’t help but admire just a bit locking with his own, as the boy sees him and swerves to avoid running into Nezu in his obviously frantic escape.

Nezu hops backwards a half step just as the boy loses his footing and crashing painfully to the side walk beside him.

“A-Are you o-okay?” the boy half stutters, half pants as he looks up at him, eyes wide and seemingly uncaring of the blood Nezu can already smell on his scraped palms and likely ripped kneecaps.

“Are you?” Nezu asks back evenly, eyes tracking over the boy and instantly compiling details and facts as he takes in the tattered school uniform, the pale face, the singed backpack and the bruises he can see just peeking out from beneath unseasonal long sleeves.

Everything about the boy screams battered to Nezu’s sense.

And then he looks down at his feet and sees his shoes.

His distinctive red shoes at that, vibrant in color and thick soled, subtly different in make and construction than most ordinary shoes seen these days, much like the footwear Nezu himself wears even now.

Which means that this boy either has a quirk that affects his feet or ...

“Thought you were going to get away didn’t you, you Quirkless fuck?” A small group of boys rounds the corner then, ignoring Nezu entirely and focusing on the boy who abruptly goes even paler somehow. “Just cause sensei couldn’t prove you cheated doesn’t mean we’re gonna let you get away with it.”

Ah, Nezu thinks even as he presses the urge to snarl down and away, option two then.

The green boy, because Nezu will not be calling him Deku even in his own mind, scrambled up onto his feet then. But, surprisingly enough, he doesn’t turn to run.

Instead he edges forward just a bit, sliding a shoulder and a foot forward until he’s standing almost protectively in front of Nezu himself.

“K-Kacchan,” the green one stutters, “I-I didn’t cheat I s-swear! I wouldn’t d-do that.”

“Tsk,” the blond leader, Kacchan, tisks then, a snarl thick and heavy on his young face. At his sides his hands flex in a move Nezu knows must be related to his quirk. “Bullshit. No way you’d get top of the class in anything without cheating, you worm.”

Nezu has known this child for roughly 6 seconds and he finds that he does not care for him at all. But then he’s never been overly fond of most of humanity either so perhaps that’s to be expected.

“H-Heroes don’t cheat,” Green insists, the naïve if well meant words sounding like a declaration. “If I’m g-going to be a hero then I c-can’t either.”

That explanation only seems to enrage Kacchan even further if the way his hands begin to pop and crackle is anything to go by.

This, Nezu knows as the scent of burnt caramel begins to fill the air around them, is going to escalate quickly.

“Public quirk usage is ~illegal~,” Nezu singsongs as he steps around the green boy and plants himself firmly in front of him instead, abruptly drawing the blond boy and his followers attention toward him. One paw slips into his vest pocket to remove the specially designed cell phone he’s never without. “I would hate to be forced to report this to the proper authorities.”

Never mind that, technically, he is the proper authorities.

The blond glares at him for a long moment before he huffs.

“This isn’t over Deku,” he snarls. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

It’s an obvious threat but the boy turns on his heel, shoves his way through his friends, and stalks off back around the corner in the direction he came.

So Nezu lets it go. For now.

“Now that that has been handled for the moment, young man,” Nezu turns towards the green boy beside him with all of the showmanship that’s come to define his patented introduction, “let me introduce myself! Am I a dog, a rat, or a bear? Either way I am Nezu th-”

“Y-You’re the Intel Hero Nezu,” the green boy says brightly, cutting Nezu’s introduction off even as he rubs raw and bloody palms against his black slacks and starts to dig through his backpack, “You solved the H-Hanamura kidnapping and the Inugami murders! You’re one of my favorite heroes!”

Nezu can’t help the way he stalls out just a bit at that because ... well he’s never been anyone’s favorite anything. Their nightmare yes but not their favorite. Especially not a child. Children around this age normally tend to have more simplistic reactions to him. And most of them don’t know about the string of rather gruesome ritualistic homicides he’d solved or the high profile kidnapping cases he consults on in his down time.

“C-Can you please sign my notebook?” the boy says then, head bowed low and a notebook and pen held out in Nezu’s direction.

Nezu admits to being slightly intrigued when he sees the way the cover is labeled Hero Analysis For The Future Vol 8.

That intrigue only grows when he opens it and his attention is immediately captured by the rather impressively done sketch of Pro Hero Starstreak that he finds there.

Unable to help himself Nezu reads over the page quickly and then keeps going.

Well now, Nezu can’t help but think just a bit gleefully as he sees the absolutely unbelieve level of analysis this young, quirkless boy has compiled, isn’t this interesting.

#BnHA #Anonymous #RayRambles #The Principal's Unexpected Protege AU

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

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Good Help - chapter 2 - ao3 link

Despite the circumstances of their first meeting, Meng Yao mostly appreciated A-Jue for his quick mind and fearlessness – and, yes, occasionally for his towering height that made grabbing books from high places infinitely easier – rather than his muscles, however impressive they were. In fact, after the first few weeks, he had very nearly forgotten that A-Jue was a guard of the inner hall.

The assassination attempt put an end to that oversight.

It wasn’t that Meng Yao hadn’t anticipated such an attempt, nor that he hadn’t taken precautions. He was careful to take his meals in the communal kitchen at unexpected hours and tested even the snacks he kept with him before consuming them, and naturally avoided any unsupervised hallways or attempts to lure him outside, but he had underestimated the enmity that greeted his appointment: he had not thought that they would launch a direct attack.

The perpetrators entered his office as petitioners, posing as clerks for an influential merchant, and launched the attack just as they were settling into the rhythm of negotiations. They were hoping to catch him distracted, which they did, but Meng Yao had always had good instincts; he realized what was happening the first moment they moved. He was out of his chair and reaching for the flexible sword he stored around his waist almost at once, already calculating how many injuries he could incur and still be able to fight back enough to preserve his life – he just needed to survive until the guards came in, unless they’d somehow gotten rid of those, in which case he needed to run –

The calculations proved unnecessary.

By the time Meng Yao’s hand reached the hilt of his blade, A-Jue was already in front of him, catching one assassin the chest with a vicious palm strike and knocking him into the path of another, turning fluidly to slam an elbow into a third.

He didn’t even draw the saber that hung low at his waist, just knocked aside the assassin’s swords and daggers with his bare hands and then beating them with his fists and feet.

Meng Yao stood there for a moment, blinking, and by the time even his quick-moving mind caught up with everything the assassins all were unconscious or paralyzed, the merchant was on his knees begging for mercy and swearing to his ignorance, and A-Jue was standing there, frowning slightly at one of the still-twitching assassins like he was considering going in for more.

“Why didn’t you draw your saber?” Meng Yao asked, both because he was curious and because it was a better reaction than saying I forgot you could do that or I thought I’d be facing them all on my own again, or, even worse, thanks.

“I thought you’d want them alive to question them,” A-Jue said, blinking at him – he had the same expression of good-natured puzzlement as he did any time Meng Yao corrected him, whether as to his calculation of accounting errors or underestimating the malice inherent in mankind, which remained a subject of recurrent disagreement. “Was I wrong?”

“Not at all,” Meng Yao said, and felt once again the thrill of power when A-Jue nodded and called for other guards to enter and remove the bodies, although he crouched by each one first to check them over for any suicide pills or arrays that might interfere with an interrogation. His professional detachment and efficient resolution of events was truly suitable for a guard of the inner hall, the finest of Wen Ruohan’s soldiers; there could be no complaints.

There was something truly delightful about having a powerful man at your beck and call, Meng Yao reflected, and wondered briefly if A-Jue had been sent his way deliberately as a plant to infiltrate his confidence. It seemed unlikely, given the random nature of their meeting, and certainly A-Jue didn’t fit any of Meng Yao’s known pre-existing preferences, other than in terms of bedpartners. And yet he grew suspicious, if only because A-Jue suited him so very well, just right in every way…

Meng Yao spent the next three days conducting a series of covert tests to see if any information was being leaked from his office through A-Jue, but there was nothing. Ultimately, he was forced to conclude that A-Jue might actually just be – like that.

Straightforward and blunt, fearless in both speech and action, decisive and capable and yet willing to take orders from Meng Yao, never judging him for his birth but respecting him for his abilities…

Good help, he reminded his suddenly over-active libido. Hard to find. Don’t ruin a good thing.

It was hard to remember, though. A-Jue was just the sort of man Meng Yao liked when he went for men: handsome and powerfully built, well-born or rich or both, stern and unyielding in demeanor, the sort of man for whom life generally went the way they wanted. The sort could easily get a girl, even one of good breeding and appropriate lineage, merely by snapping his fingers. The type of man that might tempt even a practiced whore.

Meng Yao liked to break those types of men.

It was a trait he shared with Wen Ruohan, and one of the ways he had managed to get the Emperor’s attention – that first job he had taken had been in the Fire Palace, the Emperor’s torture chambers, and he had worked out a considerable portion of his anger and anxiety through the torment of his enemies, defined liberally as anyone who insulted his mother. He’d matured since then, growing calmer, but he still liked to put proud men on their knees and make them service him, to rub their faces in the fact that he was the one with the power, to make them crawl and plead and cry for him. Though he supposed for someone like A-Jue – he wouldn’t need to break him, really.

It’d be enough to see him bend. Willingly, for him.

And yet, if Meng Yao did that, wouldn’t A-Jue start to flinch from him and turn away from him – seek to preserve his injured pride by fleeing Meng Yao’s presence, the way so many others before him had? It would make working together much more annoying, and A-Jue was perfect the way he was.

Almost irritatingly so. If only A-Jue were more inclined to make errors, Meng Yao would feel freer to take advantage of him.

“Have you ever thought less of me because of my parentage?” Meng Yao asked one evening, apropos of nothing, when A-Jue was already exhausted and more than a little wild-eyed from having to review every single one of the reports on wheat yields in their northern provinces as part of Meng Yao’s random audit of the files.

“I mean, Jin Guangshan’s a waste of space, but you’re nothing like him, so not after the beginning,” A-Jue said automatically, then scowled at Meng Yao when he started laughing. “What? Give me a break, I didn’t know you then! How was I to guess that you’d actually be competent? Or – not awful?”

“I was,” Meng Yao said with dignity, even if his lips insisted on twitching, “referring to my mother.”

“But you hate it when people talk about your mother,” A-Jue said blankly, then shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, is this some sort of mind game? If so, can it wait until tomorrow? I’m going to dream in wheat prices.”

“It can wait until tomorrow,” Meng Yao agreed, pretending to be solemn. He wasn’t sure if he was more amused at A-Jue’s ridiculous perspective on things or the fact that he seemed to think Meng Yao was not awful simply because he’d indulged him a few times when he was being especially insistent on doing things the soft-hearted way.

“You’re making fun of me again,” A-Jue grumbled. “I don’t know why, but you are. Fuck you.”

The next day, Meng Yao asked A-Jue if he’d ever been to a whorehouse.

“Yes, while on campaign,” A-Jue said, blinking rapidly as if he were trying to hide something, or more likely not think of something. Either he’d had a bad experience or he thought Meng Yao was going to cut off his balls for admitting it.

Which he wouldn’t, of course. There was nothing wrong with the better sort of customer, and Meng Yao felt certain that A-Jue would have been that sort, could imagine him sitting in the corner with a jar of wine and a blush until he was coaxed upstairs and then paying too much for the privilege, after...but it was cute that A-Jue worried about such things.

Meng Yao put a friendly hand on A-Jue’s shoulder – the man flinched, briefly, but quickly mastered himself, just as he did any time anyone touched him – and said in his best sugar-sweet sympathetic tone that he hadn’t had to use on anyone in ages, “Did she touch you in a bad place?”

“The honored viceroy can go fuck himself any time he damn well pleases,” A-Jue said, and he had no idea how much Meng Yao would like to ask him if he’d prefer to do the honors himself.

“Do you know any other curses, or is it just variations on the term ‘fuck’?” he asked instead, thinking good help, good help, good help. “I know at least three dozen involving farmyard animals, if you’d like to learn.”

A-Jue’s laugh was in no way like a braying donkey, no matter what Meng Yao pretended to insist.

“Have you considered the benefits of a regular routine of physical exercise?” A-Jue asked.

Meng Yao glared at him.

“I’m just saying,” A-Jue said. “It would make your life easier.”

“Shut up and help me get down from up here,” Meng Yao hissed – A-Jue had taken care of the vicious snarling creatures that had somehow gotten loose, an obvious follow-up assassination attempt now that the poisoning he thought he’d identified in a late-night dessert had been demonstrably unsuccessful, even if A-Jue had insisted that they were just “sweet little puppies” and Meng Yao was “overreacting”.

“I’d be happy to help train you, if you’d like.”

“I’m far too busy,” Meng Yao said with what little shreds of dignity he still possessed. “I do three times as much work as you do, I don’t have capacity to running off to go wave a stick in the air multiple times a day like some people.”

A-Jue grinned at him, utterly unmoved, and Meng Yao huffed, rolling his eyes at him.

“If I agree,” he said, with no intention whatsoever of agreeing, “will you finally show me your saber?”

If there was innuendo in there – well. He was only a man, after all.

“Perhaps one day,” A-Jue said. “It’s not a privileged I give to everyone.”

Meng Yao tried to parse whether that was flirting. He couldn’t quite tell.

“Well, your saber is very large,” he said, probing. “Maybe you should take it out more often.”

“When I take out my saber, someone dies,” A-Jue said, and – probably not flirting, then. “I wouldn’t want to accidentally skewer you.”

Possibly very strange flirting? Meng Yao wouldn’t put it past A-Jue.

“Yes, well,” he said, straightening his robes and settling back into professional mode. “You have fun with your exercise, but leave me out of it.”

A-Jue escorted him back to his office first, conscientious as always.

Once he was gone, Meng Yao rang a certain bell and summoned Sisi, whose freedom was probably the best investment he’d ever made – she’d merged into the palace staff without leaving so much as a trace behind, acting as though the other girls were her sisters and she’d been there forever, and she was more than willing to report on everything she learned.

Also, she’d retained enough of her looks that everyone thought that Meng Yao only summoned her for sex, making A-Jue’s occasional disappearances for training purposes the perfect time for Meng Yao to meet with her without suspicion – he’d given up most of his paranoia surrounding A-Jue, but that was no reason to share all of his tricks.

Besides, he wasn’t sure he actually wanted A-Jue and Sisi to meet.

“When you’re done fucking him, can you share?” Sisi asked after she put down the tray of snacks – buns and a pot of tea, all of which she sampled before his eyes in the name of sharing food. “Man like that deserves to be common property.”

“I’m not whoring him out,” Meng Yao said, a warning in his tone, and Sisi sighed dramatically.

“Tell me you’re at least having a good time with all those muscles,” she said. “Someone ought to be.”

Meng Yao rolled his eyes.

“Where’s the trouble coming from this time?” he asked, deciding to elide the issue entirely. “I keep hearing whispers and people look nervous, the way they do before some sort of trouble, but neither gentry nor merchant class seem to have produced anything out of the ordinary, and I can’t imagine it’s the farmers again after last time.”

“You’re looking out, you should be looking in,” she said.

“The Emperor’s court?”

That could be a serious problem. Any political turmoil that happened within the Nightless City would have ramifications well beyond it.

“His harem,” Sisi said, her face alight with the pleasure of gossip. “Word’s come back from the south – turns out that the Emperor took one of the Imperial Consorts with him for his trip.”

Even Meng Yao’s eyebrows raised.

“And with the Empress in seclusion, well…”

It wasn’t as though the Empress had a strong maternal family as a backing – no one even knew what her surname was – but she’d been there for years and years, practically part of the décor. Replacing her with one of the Consorts would be…a change.

The Nightless City hated change.

“Could you ask to see her?” Sisi asked. “Just as proof of life…”

“I could,” Meng Yao said, because technically he had authority over everyone, “but I won’t. Why would I invite trouble for myself? I’d have to explain to the Emperor why I interfered with his harem.”

“Good point,” Sisi said, although she looked disappointed.

“Which Consort?”

“The rumor says A-Sang,” she said. “The one that likes to carry scholarly fans.”

“A-Sang? Really?”

“I know! We all thought that the Emperor didn’t even like A-Sang – everyone agrees that A-Sang never got any imperial visits before this; the Emperor never spent a night in A-Sang’s rooms, never even shared a meal, nothing. But why else would he take A-Sang with him on a months-long journey?”

Why indeed. The Emperor remained as unfathomable as ever. Meng Yao wondered briefly if Wen Ruohan really had murdered the Empress in her seclusion, faking her presence with a note…still, it seemed implausible. Why would he bother?

“I heard a rumor once,” he said instead. “About A-Sang.”

Like all good spies and shit-stirrers, Sisi was immediately at full attention – she knew that Meng Yao was not inclined to gossip for the pleasure of it, the way she was, and therefore he would only volunteer information if he intended for her to spread it.

“A-Sang is the Empress’ family,” Meng Yao said, and Sisi’s eyes went wide. “Younger sibling.”

Younger brother, he thought, though he didn’t say anything – he didn’t actually know for sure. It was hard to tell. Wen Ruohan didn’t lock away his wives the way some men did; on the contrary, he enjoyed bringing them out for celebrations to show them off. But the Empress was invariably veiled, swathed in silks without a hint of skin showing, always seated in her chair as if she were kneeling in penance, never moving; Meng Yao, who only saw her from a distance during the celebrations, sometimes almost thought she might not have legs. In daily life, she sometimes attended the Emperor’s court, but always remained seated behind her veils and sometimes even a screen, little more than a silhouette from which, rarely, notes emerged but no voice ever did.

Naturally, if the Empress preferred to be veiled, that meant the other wives had to at least pretend to follow her lead. And that meant veils and concealing clothing, even if some of them interpreted the concept rather loosely, with sheer veils and even sheerer clothing, meant to entice – A-Sang fell somewhere in the middle of that spectrum, wearing a veil that revealed his eyes and clothing that allowed him flexibility of movement without too much restraint, and while he was slender and delicate, Meng Yao was moderately certain that he was indeed male.

Not that it mattered.

Wen Ruohan had never much cared about that.

“Amazing,” Sis breathed. “So all these years, the Emperor has been refraining from touching A-Sang out of respect for the Empress, and now the little sister wife has finally made her move…”

Meng Yao had said none of that, but it served him to muddle the waters a little, mostly to see who would try to clear it up. Not that it could be, as his information about their familial connection was accurate – gleaned from a careless comment by Wen Ruohan himself, no less – but it interested him to know who would try regardless.

“Go,” he said, and Sisi left, all but floating, and it wasn’t long before A-Jue returned, all shiny with sweat and exertion, looking incredibly fuckable.

“You worked near the harem, right?” Meng Yao asked him, mind still focused on the bubbling little scandal that he just knew would become an issue that could wreck his thus far successful regency. “Do you have any connections there?”

“Not really?” A-Jue said. “Most of the wives are scared of me.”

Typical.

“Is there something you’d like me to find out for you..?”

“No need,” Meng Yao said. He’d never met anyone less well suited to be a spy than A-Jue. “But it may be an avenue of future threats, so keep it in mind.”

“I’m not going to let anyone from the harem harm you,” A-Jue said, oddly fierce. “Not anyone. Don’t worry.”

#mdzs #meng yao #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #nieyao #my fic #my fics #good help

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five-rivers · 4 years ago

Text

Loved 8

Danny found himself without human senses or even a rough analogue of a human body. Even so, he still had an understanding of his surroundings, alien senses leaving impressions on his mind.

His body was soft, boneless, rounded, unformed. He was intimately connected to, part of, and entirely surrounded by an infinitely greater being, whom he was dependent on. He was known, all of him, by this being.

If he’d had eyes to cry with, he would have, knowing that he would never be able to know this being as he himself was known.

Amusement and affection – or, at least, things that were like them – pressed into him as the being contracted around him. An object was inserted into the single orifice he currently possessed.

Slowly, Danny became aware of an intense… discomfort in that area. He couldn’t call it pain. He currently had no sense of pain. But he could feel it and he didn’t like it and it was growing—

He woke up, tangled in blankets, skin slick with sweat, head and teeth aching.

Except, he didn’t. He was in the Dream. But if he were in the Dream, what had that been?

Already, many of the details were slipping through his fingers. He could no longer recapture what he had felt, although the general events were still somewhat clear.

He… had sleeping here somehow peeled back the layers of metaphor through which he experienced the Dream? Or had that just been a different metaphor, no truer than this one?

He sat up – or, rather, he tried to. An unexpected weight around neck stalled him. Overnight, the chain of Clockwork’s Love for him (and his Love for Clockwork in return) had more than doubled in size. It had also been reinforced by thick, colorful, silk ropes wound in and out of the links as well as other, smaller, chains.

There were also two of them, now, leading in opposite directions. As if Clockwork’s Love was simply too great to be confined to a single representation.

More carefully this time, Danny sat up. At least the collar, despite being far, far heavier, was no longer configured like a neck brace. Danny could turn his head to look at things.

The dog, evidently sensing an opportunity, deposited itself in Danny’s lap. Danny, not knowing what else to do, started petting it, running fingers through shadowy fur. He had always wanted a dog. Although, he didn’t remember telling Clockwork that…

“Maybe I should name you,” said Danny. He wasn’t sure how he felt about naming a personification of his hate, but he wasn’t sure if that’s what the dog was, or if the dog was just a container for his hate. It was confusing. “How about Cujo?”

The dog wagged its tail agreeably.

“Cujo it is, then.” He sighed and looked around the room. It didn’t have a door or any other visible opening. Honestly, in comparison to everything else he’d experienced in the Dream, that was pretty pedestrian. He supposed he’d just have to wait until Clockwork came back.

Maybe he could take a look at some of those interesting objects along the wall in the meantime? Something in his mind whispered that they were his and they were toys. They could take his mind off the pain building in his jaw and temples.

He stood up and walked almost all the way to the edge of the depression in the floor before being brought up short. He stumbled and sat down abruptly. What-?

The end of the chain was buried in the floor at the center of the depression.

Oh. Well. This whole room was part of Clockwork, too, so Danny really shouldn’t be surprised. It wasn’t like the chain hadn’t acted like a chain before.

Still.

Being forcibly trapped in, well, a crib was infantilizing. Not that everything else about all of this wasn’t. This just seemed like a step further.

The collar hummed lightly against Danny’s throat, eliciting a croon as he reflexively attempted to harmonize. The act settled him somewhat, and he gazed blankly at the runes surrounding the depression. The drop between the depression and the rest of the floor was too high for him to get over by himself anyway… no, that wasn’t right… couldn’t be… he couldn’t see the runes if that was the case, he’d be too short… but the lip there was definitely too tall, he knew it…

He tore his eyes away, squeezing them shut against his suddenly raging headache. The dog, Cujo, padded over to him and sniffed him gently. Danny whined, trying not to cry.

It looks like your horns might be growing in as well, said Clockwork’s avatar, running a hand through Danny’s hair. Poor baby. Teeth and horns all at once. That must hurt.

“Horns? Like Nocturne?”

Yes. They will help you navigate the other layers of the Dream once they are fully grown. With practice.

Danny let Clockwork’s avatar lift his head, resting his chin in its palm. “Layers of the Dream?”

You did not think the Dream was as simple in structure as that place you call reality, did you, little Love? This place you have become familiar with is only the closest layer to that place, no matter how deep you go.

“But—” said Danny, trying to work out how that could be. The answer slotted itself neatly into Danny’s mind. “It’s… like a tesseract?”

More than that, but essentially, yes. The avatar was gathering blankets around Danny again, swaddling him. Danny squeaked and tried to twist away, but the avatar easily anticipated him, and the fight quickly went out of him.

Danny was carried from the room and brought to a long table covered in bowls. The bowls contained pastel orbs of various sizes and colors. A single piece of furniture shaped like a basket woven of silver strips sat next to it. Clockwork’s avatar set him down gently on this piece of furniture and several of the strips peeled off to wrap securely around Danny.

Time for breakfast, said the avatar, happily.

Mentally and emotionally, it was easier to eat the orbs than the obviously alive things of his previous meal. Physically…

Danny asked why the orbs were so tough and difficult to chew. The avatar murmured something about practicing using his teeth. Danny wasn’t exactly in a position to refuse, so he was filled to satiation and beyond, until every piece of food on the table had been eaten.

By the time Clockwork’s avatar lifted him again, he felt exhausted and disgusting.

“Can I go home now?” he asked.

You are home.

“You know what I mean.”

It would be remiss of me to let you go when you are still in so much pain. Besides, sleep is necessary for children such as yourself to properly digest food.

“Don’t want to sleep,” said Danny, alarmed. He didn’t want to go back to the place he was before, where he could not see, hear, smell, taste, or touch.

That is not the only place you may go, said the avatar. In fact, it is rather unlikely for you to return there unless you do so on purpose. It touched the place where one of Danny’s horns would eventually bud. It was tender and Danny whined. Which is not something you can yet do. It paused. Perhaps I could guide you to a… cozy layer. One you might find educational. Would you like that?

“I wanna go home. I feel icky.”

I will set up a bath for you when you wake up.

Danny moaned and tried to tuck his face into the avatar’s shoulder. “Don’t want a bath.”

You do need one eventually.

“Don’t wanna.”

The avatar lowered Danny back into the nest of blankets.

Sleep well.

Danny woke up. This time in an actual crib. A mobile with star shapes hung overhead. He reached up with a chubby baby hand. A medical bracelet jingled around his wrist.

With some difficulty, his hands lacking dexterity, he turned the bracelet over. The writing there was incomprehensible and made him slightly dizzy. He huffed and rolled over before pushing himself up onto hands and knees.

The room he was in was dark, and far more defined than he was used to in the Dream. He could see picture frames on the walls and clocks. Every wall had at least one clock.

He grabbed the top of the crib railing and pulled himself up into a standing position. The rest of the room looked normal. Lived in.

The door opened, letting light in. A figure walked through the doorway and picked Danny up.

“You’re awake already! Ready for the day?”

“Clockwork?” squeaked Danny.

“Hmm, yes. But there’s something else you can call me here, hm?” The figure shifted, light falling on a feminine face and long hair.

“Mama?” tried Danny.

“There we go,” she said.

“Where are we?” asked Danny, lisping his words slightly. He wasn’t sure he had teeth right now. He put his hand in his mouth, feeling his gums. “’s different here.”

“Yes,” said Clockwork, walking out into a hallway. It was bright. There were clocks here, too, evenly spaced on the walls. Danny hid his face. “Oopsie daisy. Too bright, baby?”

“Mhm,” said Danny.

Clockwork balanced Danny on her hip and fiddled with a dimmer switch. The lights dimmed to a more comfortable level. “I’m sorry, baby. I keep forgetting about your eyes.”

“What about my eyes?”

“You’re photosensitive. That’s what the bracelet is for. You need low light.”

“Mama?”

“Hm?”

“What is this place?”

“Ah,” said Clockwork, putting him in a highchair. “A world within the Dream. Once,” she punctuated the word by clipping Danny into the seat, “it was much like the place you were first born. But we came to understand it completely and everything that thought or dreamed opened themselves to us. We engulfed it, brought it here. Now everyone is happy.”

Clockwork put a sippy cup on the little table on the highchair and then several pieces of cereal. Danny didn’t recognize the brand.

“Do I have to?”

“You need energy for today,” said Clockwork.

“But I just ate so much.”

“Not here. Come on, sweetheart. It’s just a little bit.” Clockwork sat down in one of the chairs at the dinning room table, brushing her hair over her shoulder. She smiled. “Isn’t this nice?”

Danny shrugged.

“I know you don’t care for the other part of the Dream, that you find it frightening, so… If you like this place, you can stay here. It’s just like the other place. The one you like. Would you like that?”

“My friends are there.”

“I can bring them here. It’ll be difficult, but very possible.”

Danny shook his head. Clockwork sighed.

“Well. Let’s just see how this day goes before you decide. Maybe you’ll like being here so much you’ll never want to leave at all. Give it a chance. Just for one day, okay?”

“Okay,” mumbled Danny.

“And that means eating your breakfast.” She ruffled Danny’s hair. “Okie-dokie?”

“’Kay.”

Clockwork smiled, eyes crinkling. “We’re going to have so much fun today, just see!”

#danny phantom #eldritch abomination au #loved #dannymay 2021 #dannymay 2021 day 23: cozy #dannymay

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guineapigsinwinter · 3 years ago

Text

Preparing.

Riz stared at his boxer clad reflection in the long floor to ceiling mirror that Theodore had brought into their dorm room. The token straight of the room was one usually most fussed over his appearance out of the four, but today was different.

Today Riz was meeting Gosha, Legoshi’s grandfather.

A Komodo dragon.

He didn’t care that his boyfriend was a hybrid. Hell he had suspected it along with most of the drama club due to his wolf’s beautiful eyes and sheer size. Tao had been surprisingly spot on with his bet, whilst Tem’s generic ‘some kind of lizard’ had been in the right area. Riz’s money had been on some kind of large equine based on just how hush hush Legoshi appeared to be trying to keep his hybrid nature a secret, herbivore- carnivore hybrids being the only type that was still really taboo.

But he was Legoshi’s only living relative. Was the one who had raised him by all accounts following his mother’s .. seclusion. Legoshi was sure he hated him despite Jack’s protests otherwise. Riz frankly trusted Jack’s opinion in the matter more. He loved Legoshi, but a suspicion that had been forming as he had gotten to know the wolf had been pretty much confirmed by the golden hound.

His wolf had depression. Riz would stand by him, help him however he could but in matters that included the wolf’s self image or idea of his value Riz honestly thought any of the 701 guys had a more accurate view of Legoshi then the wolf himself did. How he wish he could ease Legoshi’s self loathing and doubts. Help Legoshi see even a fraction of his true value, his beauty.

Regardless, Riz wanted to make a good impression so was doing everything to make sure his appearance was at it’s best.

“What’s wrong with Riz? You’ve been staring at yourself for ages and looking at your sides.” Nick said cheerfully from where he and Scout were sat on Riz’s bunk watching. Why oh why had he thought asking them for advice would be a good idea? That said they may be able to help.

“Have I put on weight? I know how defined I was wasn’t exactly normal for brown bears but I assumed it was due to the pills… but I’m still taking them.” Not that he was complaining, the amount of times he hated seeing his face in the mirror because he was sure it was too gaunt meant maybe some extra weight would not be bad. That and he had always been jealous of the brown bears in other countries who didn’t have to take those fucking pills, and most of them tended towards the larger side, especially in winter.

Scout grinned. “Well you have been eating more, not that I blame you with your cooking skills I swear you must have made a deal with the devil.” The black bear said cheerfully, swinging his legs into the air and against the underside of the bed.

“That’s to help Legoshi! It was the only way I could persuade him to actually not starve himself!” Riz snapped back, turning around to glare at the couple. It was true, he and Durham had both had a slight panic attack when they realised just how little Legoshi had been eating compared to what was normal for other large carnivores a week after the meteor festival. His boyfriend’s insistence that actually eating a healthy amount would terrify herbivores had Riz pulling his fur out. Thankfully making dinners, either to share here with his dormmates or the 701 guys resulted in Legoshi eating in amounts that were not near starvation levels. The fact Riz had been eating more as part of his attempts to encourage Legoshi’s own eating habits may have slipped his mind, eating together seemed to be most reliable way of getting Legoshi to eat an amount that actually met the nutritional requirements of a large carnivore.

Holding his hands up placatingly, Nick smiled and replied. “Hey calm down griz, it’s not a dig. Frankly I was always worried about you, I mean we are bears. We ain’t designed to have that little body fat. You look hell of a lot better now, less gaunt though I guess you did match Legoshi in that regards.Besides you’ve only been having the migraines once a week since you started eating more that has to be good right?”

That was actually true. In the two months since the meteor festival the frequency of the migraines had decreased. Maybe he should look into it. But on the other hand, what it Legoshi didn’t find him attractive if he put on weight?

“And before you think it I don’t think Legoshi will mind, the mutt’s such a cuddlebug with you it’s adorable.” Scout said cheerfully, causing Riz to blush.

Not that he would ever complain, he loved holding Legoshi or being in his arms. Something about it was just so calming, so peaceful that Riz would happily admit he was addicted to it. The fact they had been caught having fallen asleep cuddled together in either of their dorms had been embarrassing but bearable until someone, Riz suspected Voss, Miguno or Scout had taken a picture and leaked it to the drama club last week.

Tem had been insufferable ever since, his best friend having been gently teasing them both over it but also saying how proud he was of them for being so adorable. Least he wasn’t moping over the fact his confession to Els had resulted in her admission she was already seeing a leopard who was in the computer club. It had been less the rejection and more he hadn’t realised Els was already taken that had stung the alpaca, and Riz and Legoshi had been trying their best to cheer him up since.

“Yeah, in fact I bet he’d love it! I’ve seen the way he snuggles into you and his tail wags when he gets to be your little spoon.” Nick added before pulling his phone out.

Riz sighed, grabbing the black shirt he was going to wear along with the casual smart jeans. Should he wear a tie? Just what was the dress code for meeting your boyfriends family?

“Don’t worry Rizzy I have just the thing!” Scout shouted excitedly as he got up and opened the dorm wardrobe, rummaging through and muttering to himself. Nick just shrugged his shoulders and smiled in the slightly goofy way whenever the black bear did something like this.

“Scout I swear if you are going to try and get me to wear that speedo again you are getting nothing but burnt food for a month!” Riz said sternly, trying not to think of the swimwear his fellow ursine had suggested he wear for a date with Legoshi two weeks ago to Bstrike. He loved swimming as much any other bear, but the idea of wearing something so revealing in public was not his style.

“Yeesh don’t worry I already know how prudish you can be. All I did was suggest you give your wolf a little show, get something other then his tail wagging.” Scout replied with a slightly teasing chuckle as he continued to rummage.

“I still can’t believe you offered to share a speedo Scouty, we ain’t dogs!” Nick said before taking a sip of the bubble tea that he loved but all the other bears hated.

“Collot and Legoshi only accidentally share underwear, it’s only less personal garments they normally share!” Riz bit back before clasping his hands over his muzzle, he had not meant to say that.

Nick raised his eyebrows at Riz suggestivly. “Oh really? And just ho-“ The polar bears question was interrupted when Scout shouted triumphantly from the wardrobe, pulling out a waistcoat similar in style to their school ones but a bright red with plain metal buttons and handing it towards Riz.

Riz stared at it for a few seconds. He had to admit he hadn’t actually updated his clothing style since he was fourteen.

“Well don’t just stand there, put it on! I’ll help with the back.” Scout eagerly said, prompting Riz to do just that, the black bear standing behind him and adjusting the strap as Riz did the buttons. It hung a bit loose on Riz’s still lean frame, emphasising the earlier conversation on his relative thinness to other bears.

He had to admit, the contrast between the red of the waistcoat, black shirt and pill induced paleness of his fur worked. And now that he looked at it was his fur slightly darker, slightly more brown then before? Either way Riz felt more confident with his appearance then he had in years and hoped to Rex this was suitable.

“Daim Riz, shame you are with Legoshi as you are looking fine! The old guy will be jealous of Legoshi!” Scout proudly said, giving a cheesy thumbs up.

Turning, Riz raised an eyebrow at the black bear, Nick facepalming at his boyfriends remark next to him. “Scout, I want to make a good impression with Legoshi’s grandfather, not seduce him.” He said laconically, causing Scout to roll his eyes.

“You know what he meant Riz, now go and meet Gosha before he or Legoshi get cold feet, Jack’s just messaged us to tell you Legoshi has debated calling off three times already.” Nick said in exasperation and defence of his partner. ----- So I am finally starting the second part of the Riz section of ‘Never Really Thought About It’ after too long and so far got this scene. My main problem atm is I am planning a duel at a club halloween party between Tem and Louis after the deer insults the carnivores/queer couples in the club again and whilst I have Tem’s outfit sorted (Tem/Bill, Legoshi/Riz, Kibi/Tao and potentially Sheila/Peach are all in Glamrock 5NAF:Security Breach style at Tem, Kibi and peach’s idea/urging.) I have no idea for Louis beyond some kind of royalty that is just impractical enough to contribute to him loosing so any suggestions would be awesome and really helpful. As ever Riz’s roommates of Nick, Theo and Scout are @littlepuffy4ever’s.

#beastars au #beastars #beastars riz

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cafeinthemoon · 4 years ago

Text

Madara with s/o who’s secretly developing a new (and dangerous) jutsu 🔥

And finally we have the third Grandpa with is s/o doing dangerous things under his nose haha As I said before, each Founder’s part ended up too long so I divided the request in three and I hope the anon who requested it don’t get mad at me because of this XD Anyway, if you want to read what I wrote for Hashirama and Tobirama, you can click on their names 😉

Now let’s go to see Madara’s reaction!

Fandom: Naruto | Madara Uchiha

Symbols: 💗 | ◻ | ▶▶

As you can easily imagine, things are way different when it comes to Madara in such situation

Because unlike his partners who took some time to actually go after you and find out what you’ve been up to, he does it right at the first night

Okay, you use to went out every night for your personal training and that’s not strange at all, but that time he notices little differences in the process

An extra pack of ink tub and scrolls that you decide to put on your bag, a change of clothes (something you never carry with you in normal training sessions), extra medicine, these kind of things

Everything is pointing to two possibilities: whether you’re going to stay out for longer or you’re creating/perfecting a technique, and a complex one

Madara is not only an observant man: he’s curious, and unlike the Senjus the idea of invading your privacy is not enough to stop him from following you that night

It’s how he finds out you’ve been working to create a new jutsu

But you’ve created other jutsu before. Why would you have to hide the process of this one from him?

The only way to find out is to watch you perform it and understand of kind of jutsu you’re creating

At first, he’s content in doing it. He’s interested in your technique, as well as to see how far you can get with it

But at the end of the session, he notices you’re more tired than you usually get after training

The obvious explanation is in the jutsu: it is not finished yet, so the amount of chakra it demands is yet to be defined. But he’s confident that you’ll soon find a way to fix this

He’s careful enough to go back home before you so you don’t notice he was out

When you cross the door, he comes to help you since you’re exhausted. He does the basic stuff to take care of you: runs you a bath, washes your hair, change your clothes, bring you some food and take you to bed

He has done this before after you came back from difficult missions

He also avoids questioning you, so you never get suspicions

And things stay like this for the next days

However, Madara sees that your tiredness is increasing at each night, and contrary to what he thought, you don’t do anything to fix the problem of chakra control

Is it possible that you’re unaware of the problem? No, it can’t be. You’re smarter than this

And because he refuses to see that you are in fact unaware of it, he doesn’t interfere, and your bruises and waste of chakra get worse as time passes

(Still, the jutsu is progressing in its other aspects, so you’re hopeful about completing it in the next days)

One night, he finally acknowledges your failure and decided to intervene

And thank God he does that in time

Now the jutsu is almost complete, you are almost at the final stage of your work and making the final moves, but the possibility of this being your death is real and Madara can’t let this happen while he’s watching

When he leaves his spot and grabs you in his arms, stopping you from completing the hand seals, you are frightened

You weren’t expecting to have company, and once you look in his eyes you understand everything

He has been watching you all this time, and maybe in the previous nights, ready to take action in case things get out of control

But things are under control right now, so why did he do that?, you ask yourself right before passing out with exhaustion

When you wake up, you notice you are back in your room. Each part of your body hurts and the morning light enters through the window. You can’t even think clearly

Only then you realize that the amount of chakra consumed by your jutsu was something abnormal (and that you should have paid more attention to that)

After falling asleep and waking up again, you finally manage to remember what happened that night: you were about to do something really irresponsible, but lucky you, Madara was there and stopped you

You look around and spot him entering the door with some medicine

At the exact moment your looks meet, he leaves the medicine aside and approaches you

He sits by your side and puts his palm on your forehead

“Fortunately, y/n, the fever diminished during the night. It is probably the effect of the treatment I’ve been applying to your bruises”

You don’t reply. You just nod with the energy you got

“Some of them will heal soon. Others are more serious”

How serious?, you want to ask

“Serious enough to keep you on this bed for the next days and not even think of performing any jutsu during this period” he says as if he just read your thoughts

There are many things you want to say, you want to ask, but you sense this is not the time

You two just exchange a look that says everything: you will talk about what happened when you’re recovered

Madara is a practical and organized man when he needs to be

He chooses a good medical ninja to examine you as the first measure and makes sure their instructions are being followed

However he prefers to do everything by himself

Not that you find it bad, though: he knows you better than anyone, so he knows how to take care of you

If you need to leave the bed for a moment (because lying all the day can be tiring too), he takes you out of the room at the right time. If you just want to stay quiet and alone in bed, he leaves you there

He seems to sense any minor discomfort you have and act to diminish it: a massage to cease the tiredness in your muscles, a lotion to the bruises that are still burning, stuff like this

Finally you are fully capable of leaving the bed and the house without help

You’re not getting back to work yet, but now you’re able to have the conversation about the incident

You tell him everything from the start: how the idea of the jutsu came out, your reasons to take it ahead, your measures to protect yourself and why you didn’t give up despite the risk of the technique

You also explain that no, you never noticed the failure responsible for the unbalanced chakra consumption that almost killed you. You only noticed that when you were under the treatment, and were willing to tell this to him

Madara listens to you without interrupting. Indeed, he seems interested in everything you have to tell about this jutsu

At the end of your explanation, you understand why

He says he has been observing your progress with the jutsu since the first night, when he found out about your project, and that he quickly noticed the failure in it

However, he didn’t want to interfere and were hoping that you would fix the failure soon, which you didn’t. And that’s why he stopped you from finishing the technique

Here you see the difference etween being with Madara and being with anyone else: somehow you’re not surprised to know that you’ve been followed, nor angry that he waited to stop you in a crucial point. Instead, you’re willing to know what he has in mind. You never think of the present; it’s always about the future

“Y/n, at first I was just moved by curiosity about your secret project, but the more I learned from it, the more I wanted to know. Now that you revealed the ideology behind it, not only I find this jutsu of yours impressive, but I believe it would be a mistake not to finish it”

You hold your breath. But you almost died because of this jutsu ???

He smiles, guessing your thoughts

“I will help you to fix the failure. And then you will try the jutsu on me”

He states that though he can understand the theory behind the jutsu, there are some details he can only check if he experiences it on himself

You can’t help smiling

Yes, it’s a practical solution for a big problem, but it also points out Madara’s level of self confidence and enthusiasm. The proposal sounds like something only he would do, and this is so funny

Yet it’s your only chance to save your technique and make all your hard work pay off, so you accept it and immediately start to make plans

Of course it will take some days until you can go to the first session because you’re still weak

But once you get better, you will start to work

When the day finally comes, you are nervous, but determined

The first thing Madara asks you is to perform the technique and be prepared, because he will stop it at the moment when the failure shows

He wants to understand where exactly is the problem

You do this a few times until he finds it

You make a pause and he explains the situation. You say you noticed the nature of the failure too, but couldn’t find a counteraction for it

Well, Madara has an idea, and he tells it to you

It involves changing one or two hand seals and alter the way you manage your chakra at same moment

You try again following these instructions. It’s not that easy, but you do your best

And to your joy, it works

You try other times, and soon your body memorizes the procedure

You write down new notes on your scroll and revise them with Madara

At the end of the day, you are tired, but feeling rewarded. You also apologize for not asking for his help before, even though you already told him you wanted to prove your own value by doing everything by yourself

He says you don’t need to apologize now that the jutsu is finally completed, and makes you promise that you will always try your new techniques on him from now on

You laugh hard at this and do your promise

#naruto requests #naruto headcanons #madara #madara x reader #madara headcanons

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pretchatta · 3 years ago

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swoon june day 2: daydream

(I paused this to finish rebels appreciation week, but now that's done I'll be catching up on prompts!)

rating: general; kanan jarrus/hera syndulla; 1350 words

---

With the repairs to her secure comm completed and the Ghost not due out of hyperspace for another two hours, Hera decided it was time for another cup of caf. She hit the door control to her cabin and stepped through–

And found herself face-to-face with her newest crewmember.

She froze, and so did Kanan. One of his hands was raised in a fist, as though he’d been about to knock. For a moment neither of them moved. There was barely an inch between their noses, but she could see his eyebrows had climbed high into an expression of surprise.

“Uh…” he started, and she felt the puff of his breath over her lips.

He took a quick step back. “Sorry, I was just coming to ask if the crates in the cargo hold had anything fragile in them.”

His voice snapped her out of her shock.

“Yeah, no, uh, you’re good,” she replied. “They’re mostly compacted rations, some basic medical supplies, nothing breakable. Or volatile. Why do you ask?”

He shrugged. “Just wanted to do some training. You’re welcome to watch.”

She tried not to blush, and failed spectacularly. Did he know she sometimes liked to check the security cams when he was weightlifting in the hold?

“Oh, thanks. I’m actually about to make some caf, but maybe after.”

“There’s a fresh pot in the galley,” he offered, before walking casually away down the corridor.

Well, if he’s made her caf and is offering to let her be one of the few people in the galaxy to watch a Jedi’s training, who was she to turn him down?

She filled her favourite mug with the rich-smelling brew and made her way to the balcony overlooking the main cargo hold. She hadn’t been sure what she’d find there; Kanan tended to vary his routine from day to day, but she certainly hadn’t been expecting what she saw before her.

Despite asking about them, the few crates they currently had on board had been pushed back to the very edges of the space. In the center, cleared of any clutter, Kanan was kneeling on the bare durasteel deck. He had his eyes closed and his hands folded loosely in his lap. Hera settled herself against the railing, unsure of what exactly she was supposed to be watching.

After a few moments of Kanan breathing deeply through his nose, he began to move. It was a slow and deliberate motion that started with his hands. He placed them on the floor in front of him, shoulder’s width apart, and leaned forwards until his forehead joined them. His body continued the movement, rising up until only his toes were left on the ground. Then they too pushed off and into the air, and he was holding himself up in a headstand.

He straightened his legs so that his feet were over his head. As he stretched them up, his t-shirt untucked from his waistband and fell over his head. The puff of fabric told Hera he’d let out a sigh of frustration, but he made no move to stop or correct it. Her eyes travelled over the newly exposed skin of their own volition. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen his bare chest, but she couldn’t resist the opportunity to openly admire it up close.

Kanan’s body was a long, lean streak of sinew and muscle. The lines over his chest and abdomen were not particularly well-defined, but they were definitely there, barely concealed by the sparse covering of hair. His uniformly light brown skin was marred in several places by scars; mostly blaster bolts, but she could identify a few stab wounds in there too. In her opinion, they didn’t detract from the sight.

She shook her head as if it would clear her wayward thoughts. She didn’t have time to be attracted to her first and only crewmember. Her priority was fighting the Empire, and she couldn’t afford a distraction like Kanan Jarrus. He was only here to work for her.

Hera focused her attention back on what Kanan was doing. While she’d been off on her own train of thought, he’d pushed himself up into a handstand. She could see the muscles in his arms straining with the effort, but he was managing to hold himself eerily still. It took a few seconds for her to notice his feet weren’t the only things further off the ground.

All of the crates in the hold were hovering roughly a foot above the deck.

She didn’t dare to move in case she broke the spell. She held her breath, in awe at what he was doing, and then slowly let it out. It was far too easy to forget that when he wasn’t drinking or flirting or making terrible jokes, Kanan Jarrus was an extraordinary man.

That was partly why she struggled with those less-than-professional thoughts. It was often easy to forget that under the gunslinging drifter exterior he projected, Kanan was one of the most wanted beings in the galaxy. A Jedi, or at least someone with some knowledge of and training with the Force. And it wasn’t that being a Jedi made Kanan more attractive to her (although that did perhaps contribute), but it explained a lot about him.

She’d been able to tell when they were on Gorse together that there was more to him than met the eye; he did care about the suffering of others, and he did want to help, but he held back from doing so. Now she understood why. She had proof that despite what he wanted everyone to think, Kanan cared deeply, and he had the skills to do something about that.

That was what drew her to him. That, combined with his face, and the way he made her laugh, and his smile, and the caf he made her in the mornings, and the way he treated her ship, and the respect he always, always showed towards her. All of that came together and left her with one inexplicable fact.

She was falling for him.

She never allowed herself to imagine giving in to those feelings. She couldn’t, not with a rebellion to build. It was inappropriate to think about what it would be like to let him flirt, and to flirt back. To laugh openly at his ridiculous jokes and to lean her head fondly against his shoulder. To let him touch her with those large but gentle hands, to caress her face with the same softness she sometimes saw in his eyes when he looked at her.

To hold his hand, and not just when they were running from stormtroopers on distant planets, but to keep holding it afterwards as they strolled down unfamiliar streets, the two of them close and familiar and experiencing their new environment together.

To pull him close when they were safely back on the Ghost, to feel his arms encircling her waist and his chest pressing against hers. To feel the warm puff of his breath over her lips as their faces hover inches apart, like they had been earlier, but this time with intent, with purpose.

To lean into that gap and to kiss him–

There was a crash as all of the crates suddenly dropped back down to the deck, and Hera was shocked back into reality. Kanan had collapsed too, into a pile of long limbs with his shirt still over his head.

“Are you alright?” she called.

“Fine,” he grunted back, untangling himself and straightening. “Lost focus for a moment.”

“Is that what you’re training? Focus?”

“Yeah. Amongst other things.” He gingerly stretched his muscles. “Wanted to see how long I could hold it, but it seems I’ve gotten rusty.”

“It looked pretty impressive from where I’m standing,” she admitted.

“Yeah?” He looked up at her, giving her that grin that made her knees weak. She wanted to wipe that grin off his face with her–

Focus. He’s not the only one who needs practise.

“I’m going to check the navicomputer,” Hera said, straightening. “Try not to break anything, including yourself.”

She didn’t wait for him to respond before sweeping out of the hold.

Get it together, Syndulla, you can’t keep daydreaming about your recruits like this.

Maybe watching Jedi training was a bad idea.

#kanera #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #star wars rebels #swoonjune2021 #star wars: rebels #star wars #swfic #star wars fic #fic #pretchwritta #we are closer to 500 words. still not there... but closer.#swoon june

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thrillridesz · 4 years ago

Text

kissing booth ▫ jacob

➳ pairing: jacob x fem!reader ➳ genre: fluff ➳ word count: 1.5k ➳ requested?: yes

a/n: this is inspired by Netflix’s The Kissing Booth ^^ and I know it’s short, I’m sorry ><

“I can’t do this. Please, Chanhee? Don’t make me go, I promise I’ll do your homework for a month!”

Your whines fell on deaf ears as he slid the blindfold over your forehead. There was a pleading look on his face when he slapped his hands together in a praying gesture.

“C’mon y/n, do this for me?” He said, motioning to the growing line at the kissing booth. “I have no one to take the shift right now since Miyeon can’t be contacted.”

The two of you turned to look at the snaking queue and internally, you cringed as you watched a guy in line bite at his nails. Your fists were clenched at your sides and you bit out each word, “No. Way. Never in a million years. Not even if you go down on your knees and beg.”

“Why not?” He asked exasperatedly, throwing his hands in the air in frustration.

“Because firstly, it’s unhygienic. Secondly, it’s stupid. Thirdly, I have never kiss anyone in my life.” You held up three fingers and glared him down. “Three very valid and very reasonable reasons.”

“It’s for charity!”

“You couldn’t find a better way to do charity than a kissing booth?” You asked incredulously.

“Is there anyone running this booth or what?!” Someone in the crowd shouted and others began to murmur amongst themselves in agreement. Chanhee looked at you desperately and whispered, “I’m so sorry. You can murder me later if you want.”

Before you could even react, he slipped the blindfold over your eyes and shoved you out into the booth. With a yelp, you stumbled straight into a wooden counter and you mentally cursed at him. There’s no way he’s going to get away with whatever he just did. A murder is pretty much guaranteed at this point.

You could only mindlessly feel around your surroundings and you almost jumped back when you came into contact with someone’s face.

“Ah!”

“Hey, relax. Don’t freak out.” The voice was smooth and angelic, actually almost velvety like warm chocolate. You felt a shiver run down your spine but you quickly maintained a firm stance.

“Easy for you to say when you’re not the one kissing random strangers.” You retorted and there were several ‘oohs’ that followed. Is it just you or is it a lot quieter? The chatter of the crowd had died down significantly and your stomach rolled uneasily. You had a bad feeling about this.

“Just wait till I get my hands on Chanhee,” you thought angrily to yourself, already relishing the thought of closing your fingers around his neck.

The figure chuckled, his laugh soft yet resounding. Why did that laugh sound so familiar?

“Fair enough. I guess I understand that.”

You rolled your eyes which you weren’t sure why you did since whoever this guy was, he couldn’t see it and you replied, “So why are you even here at a kissing booth?”

There was a short pause as he replied, “Just because.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms.

“Just because? What kind of an answer is that?”

“An answer in response to your question, that’s what it is.” You could hear the smile in his voice and internally, you fumed. Whoever this is, he’s getting on your nerves.

“You’re just some sort of creep, I bet. Kissing random girls and taking advantage of them while they’re blindfolded.” You shot back venomously and there were several gasps from the crowd. You briefly heard someone whisper out loud, “Did she really just say that to...”

You couldn’t hear the last part no matter how hard you strained but you felt your heart sink as fear crept in. Who is this person in front of you right now and how does he have such an effect over everyone else? You gripped on tightly to the counter, your heart beginning to pound. What if this guy is some big, burly figure nobody wants to mess with? You probably just inadvertently signed your own death certificate.

You tried to keep your voice steady as you asked, “Who are you?”

“Does that matter? You have the blindfold on for a reason.” The reply annoyed you but at the same time, it scared you as well. Showing any signs of fear at this point would just work against your case.

“Woman up, y/n.” You thought.

“Ok, you know what? Quit wasting my time, I’m done. Chanhee!” Reaching up to take off your blindfold, you turned to leave but before you could even touch them, you felt a strong hand grip around your wrist and pull you forward. It was a split second before you felt soft lips against yours, kissing you ever so softly.

The kiss sent shivers through your body and you felt a slight tingle. Your heart soared as you subconsciously let yourself revel in the kiss. The mysterious figure’s lips moved expertly over yours and you couldn’t help but slip out a soft moan in response. The grip on your wrist tightened at that and his tongue slipped in as you moaned. To say the kiss was intense would be an understatement. It was mind blowing on a lot of different levels and if passion can be defined by something physical, this would be it. Instinctively, the hand around your wrist loosened and went up to cup your face. His hands were warm and you leaned into it despite yourself, hating the fact that you loved the way he held your face but unable to tear yourself away from the kiss.

Instinctively, your hands flew up and your fingers tangled themselves in his hair. You could smell his subtle cologne, a sharp minty scent that was both refreshing and soothing. There were whistles and hoots of encouragement from the crowd as the two of you remained locked in the kiss. It felt like ages before the two of you separated, gasping for air.

This wasn’t how you envisioned you would lose your first kiss but you would be a liar if you said this wasn’t good. In fact, it was excellent. You had grown up watching romantic movies and whenever the kiss scenes did come up, you always dismissed them as being fake or exaggerated but now you understood that they weren’t. A kiss could be just as passionate and just as intense as they portray in the movies. You made a mental note to rewatch all the movies you had stashed away.

As you tried to catch your breath, you felt a certain sort of disappointment in you and you stiffened. Oh, no. You felt yourself craving his lips again and even though you had no idea who this was, you found that you didn't care. You just wanted to kiss him again.

“That was... Something.” He whispered in a breathy voice that you would have normally found weird on other people but on him, it sounded sensual.

“Y-yeah, it w-was.” You stuttered, speechless and unsure of what to say. You have to know who this person is. Gingerly, you reached up to remove your blindfolds and this time, he didn't stop you.

It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the bright lights around you but when they did, you almost fell back in shock.

Standing right before you was Jacob Bae. Jacob. Fucking. Bae. Your crush.

So that was why people were whispering. You had just had your first kiss with the school’s most popular boy, the golden boy if you will. One of the most talented people, known widely for his angelic voice that you couldn’t believe you had not noticed. You had seen him around in school but never had the guts to approach him. He was practically unapproachable after all, not because of his personality but rather because there were so many people around him all the time. He knew a lot of people and therefore, he was never without friends. You on the other hand, had only your best friend Chanhee. You longed to be able to talk to Jacob and as you stood gaping in front of him, you felt your face heat up rapidly.

You just kissed your crush, Jacob.

Jacob stood awkwardly before you, scratching the back of his neck as he peered up shyly.

“I hope you like what you see?”

Is he for real?

“Wait, is this real?” You asked dazedly, still unable to believe what just happened.

He looked at you in confusion before replying hesitantly, “Yes?”

“Oh my god.” You covered your mouth shakily and you actually had to grip on to his arm to keep from collapsing. Great. Right after you kiss your crush, you’re now going to faint. What a lovely impression you will make.

“Hey, are you ok?” His expression was one of concern as he leaped over the counter easily. How did he do that so effortlessly?

“Yeah...Actually, no. I’m... I’m not fine. I just kissed Jacob Bae, the school’s golden boy. How can I be fine?” The words came out in a rush before you could think them through and you covered your mouth, embarrassment washing over you.

His eyes widened in surprise but then quickly softened as a bright smile tugged playfully on his lips.

“That should have been my line.” He said.

Turning to him in shock, you almost shrieked, “What?”

There was a pause before he replied bashfully, “I just kissed y/n. The girl I’ve had a crush on since forever ago and I have no idea how I’m still standing.”

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shihalyfie · 4 years ago

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Ichijouji Ken, his future, and Kizuna

Having talked about Kizuna’s extremely deep relationship to 02 as a series, it’s only natural that I should probably spend some extra focus on its main central character, Ichijouji Ken. It’s no secret that, although Daisuke was the protagonist of 02, Ken was the central figure to the series itself (after all, the series was founded on the concept of deconstructing the supposed “genius kid”), and so Kizuna having such a deep relationship with 02 means that it does, inevitably, have a deep relationship with Ken in particular.

The last twenty years have been full of a plethora of meta analysis on Ichijouji Ken as a character within 02 to the point I feel anything I could possibly come up with would probably be redundant, so today I’d like to place extra focus on his development after 02 (in terms of both canonical materials and general analysis), and how it leads up to his portrayal in the recently released Kizuna. (Naturally, spoilers for the movie will be below.)

We’ll start this analysis by looking at where Ken left off during the final episode of 02.

Thanks to his interactions with the rest of the 02 crew (especially Daisuke), Ken was slowly putting his life back together, but he still had a long way to go. As late as episode 49, we learned he still had suicidal ideation tendencies in regards to his deeds as the Kaiser, and although the rest of the team did get through to him in the end, it was clear that there was still a huge path ahead of him as far as coming to terms with himself and bonding with the rest of the team went. This was especially because he ended the series with the Dark Seed still in the back of his neck -- supernatural forces may have assisted his initial downfall, but it was going to be entirely on him to make sure that he never went back there again for the rest of his life.

One thing that’s really important to put in perspective is the actual chronology this ordeal took place in. Although the Kaiser saga spanned a little under half of the yearlong series that 02 was, Christmas skewed the schedule a little bit, so a good chunk of the second half of the series actually took place in much more condensed time than the first. Taking into account the official statement that everything before Christmas roughly aligns with the time of the year the relevant episode aired, and given the exact dates in December that we know episodes 38-50 take place in, within the course of 02, Ken’s reformation from being the Kaiser and bonding with the group spanned around only four months. That is not a lot of time, especially compared to the roughly two-year period Ken went through the trauma of his brother’s loss and his transformation into the Kaiser, so in actuality, Ken made a huge amount of progress considering how little time he had to do so.

Before we continue, I should make clear that I generally count pretty much everything in the Toei-esque fashion of “everything is canon, don’t think about contradictions too hard” (which is generally their modus operandi with pretty much any franchise), so pretty much everything here is fair game. That said, obviously, contradictions and other outliers do exist, so occasionally I am going to have to omit stuff that really, really doesn’t track...so for the sake of this analysis, I’m skipping Armor Evolution to the Unknown for two reasons: one, because it takes massive liberties with characterization for the sake of crack (it’s pretty hard to believe Ken would be this degree of flippant about the Kaiser persona in a more serious situation), and two, because it was written before 02 finished airing (it was released between episodes 43 and 44) and doesn’t reflect a lot of series and characterization development that happened later in the series. (Armor Evolution to the Unknown was released during a time period when the drama CDs were really, really big on the crack -- the three Adventure mini dramas are the same -- and it wasn’t until later that actual “serious” ones would start coming out.)

Given that, our next canonical point we can work with is Diablomon Strikes Back, which takes place in March 2003.

At this point Ken’s recovery is at a little around six months, and he’s making massive progress -- even if you’re not sure about counting the actual events of this movie as canon, it’s an excellent character study in terms of watching Ken’s emotional recovery at this point in time and his relationship with Daisuke, now that he’s not directly dealing with issues pertaining to his own past trauma.

It’s already a very different Ken from the one we’ve seen in the original series, where in episode 38 the idea of him laughing was such a huge shock, but here we already see a much wider emotional range from Ken -- light cheerfulness, playfulness, and at times even a bit of petulance. His actions and dialogue still have Ken’s trademark “softness” -- being kind and gentle has always been said to be his core inner trait, after all -- but, nevertheless, he’s a lot more willing to show “superficial” emotions, especially compared to how closed up, shy, and sometimes standoffish he would be within 02 proper.

Even Ken’s own body language indicates a lot -- he’s much more relaxed and natural. Observe how he slouches here.

In fact, if you listen to Park Romi’s delivery of his lines throughout this movie, she voices him with a significantly higher-pitched and “lighter”, soft tone through all of it, which really gives off the impression that he’s much less emotionally uptight.

We get a glimpse of Daisuke and Ken’s future dynamic and how they’ll continue to be such tight friends in the future -- Ken is someone who can keep the infamously chaotic Daisuke in check (especially since prior to Ken coming into his life, Daisuke’s closest friend was probably Miyako, and while the two certainly got along very well with each other, they had a tendency to enable each other’s chaos a bit too much at times).

But despite Ken obviously trying to be more sensible than Daisuke here, it still manifests as a much greater show of emotion than the kind you’d be used to within 02 proper. He’s much more assertive with putting his foot down in keeping Daisuke under control, which indicates not only a more comfortable relationship with Daisuke in particular, but also a general increase in his ability to be assertive.

In one of his most famous scenes in this movie, he actually outright taunts Daisuke in order to spur him on. He’s doing it totally affectionately (it’s specifically to give Daisuke more motivation to keep running), but nevertheless, he’s taunting Daisuke -- not really something you'd expect from Ken in 02 proper. The original line in Japanese even has him use the very super-casual and aggressive end particle ~ze.

He even snarks about Daisuke’s convenient bouts of luck in ways that aren’t exactly complimentary (the literal phrasing of this line has “baka mitai ni” in it, in this context "some kind of ridiculous incredible power”).

And, near the end of the movie, when he starts to lose hope, it only takes a single line from Daisuke to get himself back together -- this kind of thing would have probably taken a whole speech in 02, even from Daisuke himself, but by this point Ken’s got a much better emotional grasp on himself.

And in the end, the movie ends on both Daisuke and Ken laughing together -- very lightly.

It’s easy to pass off Ken’s characterization in DSB as an incidental thing simply because this is a “side story” movie from 02 -- especially since it was technically produced during 02′s airing -- but in fact, this portrayal is consistent with what Ken has to say about himself during his next known point in canon, Spring 2003.

Given that Takeru’s track is apparently set “three months” after Christmas, and Miyako’s track talks about having just entered middle school, I assume that this means Ken’s takes place in around late March or early April 2003 (almost exactly a year since 02′s start), but in actuality nothing really “happens” during Ken’s track. Nevertheless, it provides a lot of information on Ken’s state of mind during this time and his own self-reflection on his past...and defines in very clear words what it is that Ken needs to move away from.

You were always in a bad mood and you were cold to me, but now that I think about it, maybe you really wanted to be nicer to other people. I don’t know what happened to you that made you act like you did, but now, I finally feel like I understand a bit. You were demanded to grow up fast, weren’t you, Brother? Because we were always being evaluated and compared by someone, we didn’t get a chance to have more freedom. We didn’t have any chances to run down an alley because we felt like it, or pull up weeds, or tumble around… meaningless things, things that didn’t bring any value to us at all. Just like the cat napping on the roof… we weren’t able to fully enjoy any everlasting freedom.

02 -- especially its latter half -- dealt largely with the concept of parents imposing too many expectations on their children, acting “proud” of them but actually using them to inflate their own self-worth, and in the end effectively robbing their own children of their right to “be children”. While we don’t know a lot about Osamu based on limited information about him, Ken’s parents also lament that they might have robbed Osamu of the opportunity to be a “normal boy” in 02 episode 23.

Once Ken took the role of the “family genius” after Osamu’s death, Ken was thus likewise robbed of that “normal childhood” due to all of the expectations put on him -- and Ken’s words in his track imply that it extended to before Osamu’s death, because just because Osamu was the favored one at the time didn’t mean that Ken wasn’t subject to the same kind of expectations to at least some degree, even if not as much. (Note how he really didn’t seem to have any kind of friends at all prior to Daisuke and the others.)

Thus, Ken’s ideal trajectory is to become “a normal child” -- one not subject to expectations as a “well-behaved genius child”. That applies not only to things like his academic or sports performance, but also even his core manners -- being a “normal person” in this context meaning being allowed to show emotions, be petty, have emotional range that extends beyond just being deferential and polite, and generally do things because he enjoys them and not because others expect him to. This is consistent with his portrayal in DSB, as in said movie he really does come off as a “normal boy” -- a young child who, while certainly less chaotic than Daisuke, is still enjoying himself and interacting with the world in “his own” natural, relaxed way rather than holding himself to obligations.

Another interesting thing about DSB is that it has Ken refer to Daisuke by given name. This is particularly intriguing because up until the end of 02, Ken consistently referred to Daisuke as “Motomiya” (he did use given name in episode 39, but it wasn’t something he really followed up on). This despite the fact he went with given names (plus honorifics) for everyone else in the 02 team, but it seems like Ken was still trying to figure out his very complicated feelings about Daisuke as someone who was his Most Hated Person™ during his Kaiser days and yet is now trying to aggressively reach through his barriers that he’s constructed out of self-defense.

And yet, extremely notably, almost every single post-02 material is consistent about the idea that Ken switches to given name basis with Daisuke after 02. (The only exception is Armor Evolution to the Unknown, which, as stated before, was written and recorded during 02′s airing and not after; notably, Daisuke is also on surname basis with Ken during that drama CD, even though he permanently switches to given name basis after episode 39.) That includes “out-of-hard-canon” things like Xros Wars episode 78.

Yet they still couldn’t remember to put the highlight back in Ken’s eyes, among other things.

Honorific and surname-given name basis fluctuated quite a bit in both Adventure and 02 (especially whenever canon material changed hands between writers), but for all intents and purposes, there is no reason Daisuke and Ken should not be on mutual given name basis after 02. This is especially when you take into account the more naturalistic relationship they have as of DSB -- there’s no standoffishness at all between them anymore.

This ties very deeply into how 02 portrayed its characters. One thing I’ve very, very often pointed out was that it was always an explicit point of contrast between themselves and the original Adventure team was that the 02 kids were not only “friends” in terms of fighting together on Digimon cases, but “friends” in the sense of actual social-life friends who clicked well in personality and adored each other’s company. (Part of this was because of the core theme of the series; Jogress being such a huge motif, “understanding your friends” took precedence over Adventure’s “understanding yourself”.) These are the kids who hung out together in the totally-not-related-to-any-Digimon-incident (at least, not at first) picnic in episode 6 and Christmas party in episode 38, a stark comparison to the Adventure kids who infamously started drifting as early as Our War Game!.

(Note that this isn’t meant to diminish or drop shade on the Adventure kids’ bonds in any way -- I feel like their bond is more of one that’s a “transcendent” one that crosses space and links them through their shared experience, but, nevertheless, is simply not the same in nature as the “social life” bonds the 02 kids had where they were very casual and yet intimate with each other in almost all daily life respects.)

As a result, Daisuke and Ken’s relationship ended up very different from that of their predecessors Taichi and Yamato -- it’s actually hard to imagine them getting in all that many highly heated fights in the same way their seniors would be prone to, and they’d generally be on “mild banter” terms for most of it. In fact, they come off as pretty casual and in-sync with each other, and it’s to the point where it really does feel like -- especially by the point of DSB -- staying on “standoffish” surname basis really is unwarranted.

And while it’s tempting to limit Ken’s relationship to only Daisuke, this did involve the rest of the 02 group, after all -- we got significant episodes defining his relationship to the others (Miyako got a whole episode in 25, and 30′s entire events kicked off because of an attempt to get him to better socialize with Iori!), and the 02 kids as a cohesive “overall group” were integral in getting Ken to open up and show different sides of himself. Although his relationship to certain team members ended up closer than others (Daisuke and Miyako, the ones who tried most aggressively to reach out to him, ended up getting the most out of him), nevertheless, it was important that Ken ultimately cultivated a relationship with a group of friends, and not just one.

This, of course, brings us to Kizuna, which takes place in the summer of 2010. This is a massive leap of time we don’t know a lot about, and for all it’s worth, this means we have, compared to the approximately two years Ken spent suffering under the influence of the Dark Seed, a whole eight years dedicated to potential recovery. There’s a lot that could have happened during that time, and what happened in between, we can only really guess.

Well, for one, he cut his hair.

The reveal of Ken’s design for Kizuna was a huge shock for those watching, because, among all of the twelve main human characters in Kizuna, he probably has the biggest and most drastic design change -- especially because his long hair was so iconic that even the epilogue depicted him with it (and even longer, at that). Were it not for other important identifiers like Wormmon’s presence and the fact said hair is at least still indigo blue, you’d almost wonder if it’s the same character.

(I do have to at least give props to this Animedia poster, though -- that soft and concerned expression is textbook Ken-chan, so it absolutely nails the vibe that it’s the same character despite the massive design change, and it even has a small cute detail that, despite clearly trying to calm Yamato down in haste, he’s still tidy enough to lay his chopsticks neatly on the bowl. That Ken has a habit of doing this while eating hot ramen is a very specific minor blink-and-you’ll-miss-it detail in 02 episode 36, and while I’d normally pass this off as coincidence, Kizuna and its PR has had such ridiculous attention to detail that I’m not entirely willing to.)

Not only that, his actual outfit in the movie is rather unassuming -- it’s just a black shirt, pants, and a belt, compared to the more distinctive/fashionable or setting-immersive outfits everyone else has. I mean, it sure beats that godawful grey gakuran he was constantly wearing during 02, but there were certainly a lot of complaints about how...well, unassuming and plain he looks.

The thing is, though, this is very much in line with how Ken would most likely want to present himself. When you think about it, Ken himself would probably not really appreciate his fanbase status as the “sad pretty boy”; having been scrutinized, evaluated, and put on uncomfortable pedestals through all of his early life, “blending in” and coming off as an average, unassuming person would be right up his alley.

Anyway, before we get into Kizuna itself, we have the drama CD that came with its BD, Where Should We Go? While it was released after the movie, in chronological timeline, it serves as a slight prequel, and what we learn about Ken in it is certainly...interesting. Namely, that he’s apparently a hardcore fan of Japanese hot springs. And not just a hardcore fan of them, but also a complete nerd.

The hot springs *obviously* must have free-flowing water. If possible, I think I’d prefer a quiet, rural flowing hot spring that’s surrounded by a moss-covered garden. Then I want to stay the night at a historical inn that focuses more on tranquility and wabi-sabi rather than wildness or beauty. I’m not looking for a lot on the food options, but the portions should ideally be neither too large nor too small. If we’re just going to relax our bodies, then I’d like it if there was a variety of hot springs to choose from. The water quality that I recommend for the ladies would be the hydrogen carbonate spring or the alkaline simple hot spring (these are otherwise known as simple hot springs with a basic pH of 8.5 or above), but my personal favorite is the hot sulphur spring! Incidentally, the hot sulphur spring is said to treat arteriosclerosis and high blood pressure. If it were possible, I’d like to take my time there… At least stay for two nights! Ahh… Hot springs… Hehehe…

I cannot stress enough how much the audio delivery for this depicts him as being terrifyingly into it. It’s also...not exactly the most fashionable thing for a nineteen-year-old to be into (actually, it’s more of a stereotype old man thing, what with the fixation on traditional Japanese aesthetics and health nut aspects), but we have Ken being very shameless and assertive about his personal interests, even if they’re a bit unusual.

Funnily enough, this isn’t actually the first time he was demonstrated to be a huge infodumping nerd -- it’s just that the last instance was questionably canonical, but tracks extremely heavily with what was just demonstrated here. Namely, Daisuke and Ken’s Shopping Carol:

Listen, the thing about Christmas is that it's one of the most important days in the world... It was the day the Savior was born... So, you go to church and pray... Of course, you knew all of that right?

Or in other words, he interrupts Daisuke’s wistful thoughts with The Actual Nerd Facts, because he’s a nerd. He even has a bit of a smart-aleck atmosphere...and then he cheerfully and sassily dumps all of the work on Daisuke thereafter. While the canonicity for this song is hard to place since it was released during 02′s airing (and 02 itself depicted a very different Christmas), plus the ambiguity of character song canon in general, it’s interesting how Ken’s portrayal here is pretty surprisingly in line with what we’re learning about his future personality.

The rest of what we see of Ken in the drama CD is what we generally knew about him already -- he’s kind, he dotes on Wormmon (he even indulges Wormmon’s request to take him skiing!), and he still keeps up with being into intellectual studies, and even soccer (he’s described as actually keeping up with soccer to the extent he does training camp), because he was always interested in those kinds of things -- it’s just that now he can indulge in them in ways he personally likes instead of being held to other people’s standards.

But he’s also very emotional, passionate, and openly assertive -- something he could be in 02, but only when it was something he really, really cared about, because most of the time he was a little more on the shy side with others. Not anymore. And he’s happy to indulge in the chaotic trip planning and enable the others, and, at the end, gives some sentimental words to Daisuke, his best friend.

Anyway, onto the movie itself!

Notably, they do not mention Ken’s past trauma nor his deeds as the Kaiser throughout the entire movie.

That might surprise people, given that this was...well, central to the entire plot of 02, so it’s arguably a glaring omission that despite having the 02 cast here, it’s not even brought up once. The only real “reference” to it is this scene, where Ken happens to be the one who knows about Menoa’s background as a child prodigy -- and even then it’s uncertain whether this had anything to do with said traumatic events (Menoa was admitted to Liberica in 2002 itself) as much as it’s a meta nod to Ken having a suspiciously similar background and the fact he and Menoa were based on the same real-life story (the nine-year-old boy who skipped grades into Columbia University).

But, again, recall that Ken has had eight years to move on from the events of 02, more time than said events had actually spanned over. That doesn’t mean he’s easily going to forget that trauma, nor that said events don’t still have an impact on him, but rather that a true positive development for him should have him not having to consciously dwell on it if it’s not necessary, and that his friends of now eight years should probably not be still holding it over him at a time like this.

After all, 02 itself was dedicated to scolding this kind of behavior -- not being “stuck in the past” (which, well, also happens to be a very pertinent theme when it comes to Kizuna...) was basically the entire point of the latter half, and so it stands to reason that Ken, and by extension the rest of the 02 cast, would be more focused on what they’re doing now instead of what happened back then.

In the absence of any references to said past, Ken in the actual movie ends up coming off as a bit unremarkable and plain compared to the three friends who end up surrounding him, all of whom have much more extreme personalities (the chaotic and exuberant Daisuke and Miyako, and the comically poker-faced Iori). But you get the feeling that he’s perfectly fine being that way -- rather, he’s enjoying getting all of his fun from his exciting friends, without feeling a need to spice things up himself.

So when we finally do meet Ken for the first time in Kizuna, he’s cheerfully eating ramen with Daisuke and Iori in New York (which, for all it’s worth, is probably really questionably legal, considering that Adventure’s world of 2010 likely still hasn’t figured out how to deal with that whole thing with “immigration and customs” as it pertains to Digital Gates.) Emphasis on cheerfully. He’s as tidy as ever (note how he still properly keeps his chopsticks between his fingers and cleans up after himself, albeit not as well as Iori), and he’s obviously more straight-laced than Daisuke or Miyako, but he isn’t really hiding the fact he’s also totally enjoying this. He didn’t even know why they were there for ramen in New York in the first place, but he just rolled with wherever Daisuke took him.

Recall that, according to their official profiles, these three go to completely different schools now -- Iori’s in high school, Daisuke’s at vocational school getting a chef’s license, and Ken’s in university studying psychology. (Which, by the way, is not brought up at all throughout the movie nor the drama CD! It’s easy to glean how his past experiences might give him an interest in the topic, and it’ll certainly be a valuable background to have for his future known career in criminal investigation, but despite Ken previously having had a reputation for being studious, it’s not brought up at all -- almost as if hanging out with his friends and having fun with them is more important and pertinent.) The drama CD even points out that Ken would normally be busy with soccer training camp. Yet they’re hanging out. In New York. Eating ramen. So, Yamato, what were you saying about how “choosing your own path can sometimes mean being alienated from friends”? If anything, these friends seem to be going out of their way to make sure they’re staying tight.

And, as you’d expect, Ken refers to Daisuke by given name, following DSB’s precedent. Again, given the nature of their relationship right now, this should be expected. There’s other evidence that Kizuna does use DSB as reference in certain other respects as well (Takeru calls Yamato “niisan”, which had previously been exclusive to that movie), and it’s very possible that Ken as portrayed in that movie was used as reference for his potential trajectory here.

Note that he seems to be even more outwardly affectionate with Wormmon than before (which is, shockingly, apparently possible) -- he still feeds his partner before feeding himself (similar to what he did in 02 episode 37), but now he also shamelessly carries Wormmon on his head, which he never did in 02. Perhaps it’s because he’s tall enough to carry the weight, but unlike with Takeru and Patamon, Wormmon is big enough that the sight is honestly comical -- yet Ken couldn’t care less, and while we don’t see him in his own school, it’s a sharp contrast to how Taichi and Yamato scoffed at the idea of bringing their partners to school because they “have their own lives to live”.

(A nice touch is Ken carrying Minomon from his arm, which actually comes from a very obscure piece of 02 concept art -- you can find it in the Character Complete File or the Animation Chronicle -- but was never depicted in the series proper. The Kizuna design works in the April 2020 edition of Animedia actually recreated that piece of art with Ken in the exact same position, only as a nineteen-year-old this time, which was an incredibly welcome thing to see.)

He greets Miyako upfront when she arrives, which doesn’t look like much on its face, but recall that this probably wouldn’t have happened during 02 proper -- not even with Daisuke! -- and, at the very least, not with this very casual “hey!” tone. It means a lot in terms of how much more casual of a person he’s been able to become in the last eight years, and how much more casual he is with this group (well, at least with Miyako). Takeru also greets Wormmon in the drama CD, and Wormmon seems pretty unusually happy to see Hawkmon when they meet each other there, certainly implying a lot of interpersonal interaction since.

Miyako meets up with them (and, going back to how tight these kids are, Miyako would come in all the way from Spain to meet her friends even for the exact same job that she dumped on her seniors), and they end up infiltrating Menoa’s office. He gets in a line of snark, especially because the Shueisha Mirai novel indicates he’s deliberately “looking the other way” in regards to worrying about security -- looks like he’s developing some Lawful tendencies, but in the end, his friends and getting to the bottom of the real truth take priority.

And, also, it’s still pretty clear he’s totally taking the opportunity to enjoy this.

So what does this all mean, really? He’s taking a fairly passive attitude with his abundantly more chaotic friends, but he’s also not protesting, and he’s enjoying everything he can out of it. He’s a bit quieter than he was in DSB, but that could easily just be from being older and a bit more mature, and he hardly comes off as reserved, either (it helps that Daisuke doesn’t quite resort to any antics nearly as ridiculous as he did in DSB, so there’s no need to keep him in check -- yep, even Daisuke got a bit more mature himself). And he’s joining these kids in being possibly some of the most chaotic disaster adults (near-adults?) on this planet, in a sharp contrast to their seniors.

I mentioned earlier in my analysis of Kizuna’s relationship to 02 that Ken is actually a “hidden” foil to Kizuna’s main antagonist, Menoa -- they were both conceived from the same idea Producer Seki had regarding the real-life “genius boy” who ended up going to Columbia University at a young age and, in her opinion, was going to be robbed of a proper childhood experience. 02′s Dark Seed children arc was a major indictment against parents forcing this kind of pressure on children, not only in the sense of pushing them academically but also quashing out their more “childish” dreams for the sake of a more “dignified” outlook and future. Through the events of 02, Ken learned a very personal lesson on not losing his “true self” to the pressure of those expectations, and the meaning of valuing his family and friends instead.

Ken and Menoa, effectively, were originally on the same path, but thanks to the circumstances of 02, Ken managed to avert Menoa’s fate and ended up following his own way. Nevertheless, Ken was largely robbed of a normal kid’s childhood up until the age of eleven, and it stands to reason that, even at the age of nineteen, he might still be trying to make up for all of those fun experiences he never was able to have.

Funny thing about his haircut, too -- this isn’t the first time Ken’s had this haircut, actually. You know when was the last known time he did?

Hm. Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not.

But unlike Menoa, who decided that it would be better to trap herself in her own distorted view of what “childhood” is, or Oikawa, who ended up clinging dearly to the last reminder he had of what he’d lost from his childhood, Ken ends up dealing with it in a very forward-facing manner. In fact, he’d elucidated his feelings on the issue back in Spring 2003:

There are still a lot of times when I think about how I should have “done this back then.” But I discovered that there are many things I can do over afterwards. I’ll stop counting the things that I can’t do. Because I’m sure there are many things that I can do.

Instead of living in regrets about the past, Ken simply chooses to move forward by making new fun experiences and memories with his friends, befitting those he couldn’t have when he was a kid, and perhaps even enhanced by his newfound freedom as a nineteen-year-old.

During the final battle, we get a few more emotional and assertive shows from Ken -- his concern about Miyako is pretty frantic-sounding, and the fact he steps in so quickly and frantically to help her out by his own will is pretty impressive. And then he definitively declares that they can’t afford to give up -- which is certainly in line with the nobility he had even during 02, but remember when, even in DSB, Daisuke had to be the one to remind him of this? Now he’s the one reassuring his teammates about this, all on his own. When it all comes down to it, his sense of awareness of what he wants and what he wants to do is stronger than ever.

I mentioned in my analysis of Kizuna in relation to 02 that the 02 kids are in a fairly unique position in the movie, thanks to having already practically gone through a lot of the lessons in both 02 and Kizuna, thus leading them to become very lacking in susceptibility to potentially losing their partners anytime soon (and in fact are deliberately portrayed as such). I would say of all of them, Ken is the most representative of this -- being such a direct foil to the movie’s main antagonist, one who actually came dangerously close to making some of the exact same mistakes she did and emerged with his own trauma as a result, the lessons and warnings imparted by the movie are already deeply embedded in his being.

He’s one of the most openly affectionate and intimate with his partner, having already learned the very, very hard way of what happens when you don’t treasure your partner properly. (He’s taking Wormmon jogging with him, which has got to be an awfully uncomfortable setup, but, goddammit, he’s gonna make it work. And if ~With~ is to be believed, he’s been doing this for years now.) He’s still got a Dark Seed in the back of his neck as an eternal reminder to remember who he is, and to acknowledge the love from his family and friends around him instead of succumbing to arbitrary societal expectations. Remember what I said in my earlier analysis about the true reason for partnerships dissolving, and how deeply it was tied to throwing yourself away for the sake of arbitrary standards of adulthood? Ken’s experiences and extremely painful trauma are like a giant do not do this stamp on his face, and although everyone in this cast is naturally human and may have ups and downs or relapses, Ken is possibly one of the last characters one could imagine succumbing to that kind of mistake again.

So we make it to the epilogue, and although Ken’s technical job title as given in the epilogue is literally “police officer” (keisatsukan), his form of dress (plainclothes, not uniform) and his the Character Complete File indicate he’s from the Digimon Special Investigations Unit (tokusoubu), or, in other words, he’s actually a public-servant detective. (So no, the various dubs also going with “detective” are thus not “changes” in this respect.) In short, he investigates scenes of crimes after they happen, and the Character Complete File provides an example in the form of him investigating a dead body found at the river.

This is probably why Kizuna has him major in psychology, because forensic psychology would be a pretty useful skillset for this kind of job, and a university education in general would most certainly be helpful. (The job requirements as per the Japanese system also require a very high level of athleticism and aptitude.) On the other hand, considering what we know about Ken up to Kizuna, there aren’t any indications that he treated this like any kind of major aspiration, and the psychology major makes you think he might have just fallen into this career by a series of accidents -- he took an interest in psychology (and mental health) due to his own experiences, and then decided that “discovering the truth behind things” was up his alley (much like Iori). Even more notably, his position isn’t really described in any history-making terms, not even ones like being “the first” of anything (like Jou), and it feels like he’s doing this to contribute to society in a way he prefers more than he’s trying to accomplish anything world-shattering.

But on the flip side, it’s probably no coincidence that the 02 epilogue portrays him with such a big family. Of course, it also fits with his and Miyako’s family backgrounds (they’d probably want their kids to have siblings, given their own experiences), but since the Dark Seed was described as having its effects countered by acknowledging how much you’re loved, Ken is clearly surrounded by love -- his wife is one of the most openly affectionate people out there, and his kids (or at least his middle child) use the same “Mama” kind of affectionate language Ken shared with his own parents. Once the events of 02 came to a close at the end of 2002, Ken went on a journey of discovering his own self-assertion, personal desires, and fun -- shedding the expectations and societal standards others had of him, and learning to enjoy life in ways he personally enjoys, for his own sake.

#digimon #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #ken ichijouji #ichijouji ken #shihameta #kizuna spoilers

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mst3kproject · 4 years ago

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The Phantom from 10 000 Leagues

I found this movie online while looking for From Hell It Came (which I haven’t yet found – someday I will and then you’ll all be sorry) and it looked bad, so I checked out the details. Turns out it stars Kent Taylor from The Crawling Hand, Cathy Downs from The Amazing Colossal Man, and was written by Lou Rusoff, who was behind It Conquered the World, The She-Creature, and… oh god, he also wrote Ghost of Dragstrip Hollow. This is gonna suck goat nads. I must watch it right away.

You shouldn’t picture me groaning when I write stuff like that, by the way. You should picture me giggling like a maniac and rubbing my hands together with glee.

A monster is killing people at sea near an incredibly bleak and depressing California college town, and the bodies and wrecked boats it leaves in its wake are scorched by radioactivity! Washington sends Agent Grant to find out what’s going on, and he soon discovers that the Pacific College of Oceanography is positively overflowing with suspicious characters. There’s the reclusive and paranoid Professor King, who is working on weird experiments in his locked laboratory. There’s King’s assistant George, who follows him around and hides in the bushes to watch what he’s doing. King’s secretary Ethel blames the professor for the death of her son and wants revenge, and George’s girlfriend Wanda is a foreign agent. Not to mention the visiting Dr. Stevens, a radiation expert with an unsettling habit of turning up just in time to discover the bodies. Someone among this motley crew has created a sea monster… and someone else is planning to sell it to the highest bidder!

You know how some movies save their monsters until the last minute, in order to build suspense? Or because what we imagine is always scarier than what we actually see? Or because the monster sucks and they’re ashamed of it? Or some combination of the above?

Phantom from 10 000 Leagues is not one of those movies. Before we’re even a full minute into it, the monster has appeared on screen in all its ridiculous glory. Stevens calls it a hideous beast that defies description but I think I can make an attempt. It looks sort of like the lovechild of a saber-toothed tiger and the Horror of Party Beach. There’s a ridge down its head and back like an iguana and a poorly-camouflaged window in its neck so the dude inside can see what he’s doing. The whole costume is also rather buoyant, and the actor is having to work hard to stay underwater. Sadly, this beast remains lurking in the depths and never shambles out onto the beach to menace sunbathers, which is the only thing it would have needed to make it a perfect bad movie monster.

The creature is not the only nuclear threat in this movie… or even the silliest one! During an investigatory dive, Stevens discovers a glowing patch on the seafloor which he says represents an ‘activated’ uranium deposit with the potential to form a naturally-occurring death ray! We finally get to see this in action when stock footage of a ship passes over it – and turns into a different ship that immediately blows up! I’m just sad this only happens once. The glowing stone itself is represented by a mirror with a light shining on it in underwater shots, and by the reflection of the sun when seen from the surface.

So the effects are not special and make an already silly threat even more hilarious. What about the story? Like all cheap monster movies, the focus of The Phantom from 10 000 Leagues is not the creature killing people but the investigation into it. There’s a large number of potential monster-makers here, which could have made the movie a bit messy – but by the time the words The End appear, we know who all these people are, how they’re involved, and what they hope to accomplish. Even the women are given distinct motivations and personalities, although those fall neatly into the ‘maiden, mother and whore’ tropes I’ve discussed in the past. The dialogue is not exactly subtle, but it seems like I can’t wholly blame Lou Rousoff for Ghost of Dragstrip Hollow.

It’s also nice that, despite the preponderance of White Men In Suits (Stevens and Grant both walk along the beach in suits and ties at all hours of the day and night), the characters all look different enough that I can tell them apart! None of the cast are great actors, with a lot of stilted or awkward line deliveries, but then, a lot of the things they’re saying are completely ridiculous, so I probably can’t lay that entirely at their feet.

Unfortunately, the plot of Phantom From 10 000 Leagues is rather unfocused, and like so many of these films it’s not sure who its main character is. It seems like either Agent Grant or Dr. Stevens, who are each conducting some kind of investigation into the goings-on, ought to be the protagonist… but both are introduced in contexts that make them seem potentially suspicious. Dr. Stevens is actually significantly more suspicious than Grant, because when he first turns up he gives a fake name, and later proves to have actually performed experiments with mutating sea life in the past. Yet for much of the movie, it’s Stevens we’re watching, as he cozies up to Professor King and flirts with King’s daughter Lois. He actually gets far more screen time than Grant, with the latter sometimes being out of the movie for long enough that the audience kind of forgets he’s there.

Stevens and Lois’ love story is, as is probably inevitable for a movie of this kind, completely bland. Kent Taylor and Cathy Downs have no appreciable spark between them, and one gets the uncomfortable impression that he’s about twice her age. The movie never offers even an approximate age for either character, but Lois is still unmarried and living with her father, which in the 1950s suggests she’s in her early twenties. King describes Stevens as a ‘young man’ but between his appearance and his impressive academic credentials he’s obviously not, and when I looked up the actors I learned that Taylor was forty-eight when The Phantom from 10 000 Leagues was made, while Downs was twenty-nine. That’s… well, they’re both adults, but he’s still old enough to be her father, and the younger we assume they both are, the worse the two decade gap gets.

Once we actually get to know the characters, the solution to the mysteries is fairly obvious, but this lets us spend some actual time with these men and find out what they think about the situation. Stevens, who’s been down this road before, wants these terrible experiments to stop before any more people get hurt. King, hearing about it for the first time, is more excited about what he might be able to learn by building on Stevens’ work. This represents an interesting inversion because if you’ll recall, King is supposed to be significantly older than Stevens (though actor Michael Whelan was actually born only five years before Taylor).

Usually knowledge and wisdom are both associated with age. This is a very old trope and has some fairly sound logic behind it: the elderly have had longer to learn and to experience. In Phantom from 10 000 Leagues, however, we have the older Professor King excited by the ground-breaking discoveries made by a younger scientist and wanting to learn more about them, even when the (supposedly) younger Stevens warns him about Tampering in God’s Domain. Each assumes the role their ages might make us expect of the other.

This is reflected in their respective fields: depending on how you define it, oceanography is as old as mankind. Humanity has been mapping the seas for as long as we’ve known how to sail across them, and marveling at the monsters we pull from its depths for as long as we’ve been catching fish. That is the Professor King’s domain. Stevens, on the other hand, is a specifically nuclear scientist. Nuclear physics technically begins with the discovery of radioactivity in the 1890’s, but it seemed like a new and scary field in the 1950s, as the development of atomic weapons forced scientists to take a closer look at the phenomenon’s effect on living tissues. To King, who is an expert in another field, the possibilities of this relatively new work outweigh the potential consequences.

As sloppy and poorly-made as Phantom from 10 000 Leagues can be, this contrast between Stevens and King does make it a movie with something to say. It of course has the standard moral for a fifties atomic monster piece, about paths science is not meant to tread, but it also wants us to think about that connection between age and wisdom. On the one hand, King’s interest in Stevens’ work tells us that you’re never too old to learn something new. On the other, just because somebody is young doesn’t mean they have nothing to teach. If King had taken in Stevens’ wisdom along with his knowledge, a lot of suffering need not have happened.

Even if you’re not into that, the crappy monster, the bad acting, the ridiculous science, and all the sneaking around and backstabbing that goes on makes Phantom from 10 000 Leagues plenty of fun watch. It’s much like Beginning of the End in that it ticks all the MST3K boxes, while remaining coherent enough that you can enjoy the actual story along with the badness.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #phantom from 10000 leagues #it's beginning to look a lot like fishmen #50s

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princess-of-the-worlds · 4 years ago

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Torchwood and the (Mis)treatment of its Characters of Color

Let’s be honest; despite its decent track record with queer characters, Torchwood has a problem with how it treats its characters of colors, and I say this as a South Asian, bisexual fan of the show.

For the purposes of this post, I will only be looking at the Torchwood television series (so spoilers for Seasons 1 and 2, Children of Earth, and Miracle Day), and not as Big Finish Torchwood releases since I do not believe myself to be well-versed enough in them to be able to make an accurate post. And also, as much as I love Big Finish for eveything they’re doing, on-screen POC representation is very different from audio POC representation. (And for the purposes of this post, I will not be addressing the mistreatment of Martha Jones, which really, if you think about it, stems from Doctor Who and not Torchwood.)

TLDR; Torchwood has neglected or mistreated its characters of color, given them little or no background, and brutally killed them off, often for shock value.

Let’s start with Suzie Costello.

Suzie Costello, played by Indira Varma who is a British actress of Indian descent, was promoted alongside the regular cast members in publicity material before “Everything Changes” aired, giving the impression that she would be sticking around for a while or would be a main character. Instead, she was unceremoniously killed off at the end of the first episode and only pops up once more in “They Keep Killing Suzie.” At no point was Suzie acknowledged as a woman of color or given much more background beyond her tumultuous, most likely abusive, relationship with her father.

Next, we get to Toshiko Sato, left as the only person of color on the team after Suzie’s death.

Wonderful, gorgeous, caring Tosh who, for all intents and purposes, is essentially a walking stereotype. She’s an Asian (Japanese specifically) technology genius who is unlucky at love. Need I say more? (Check out this Teen Vogue article if you’re wondering why that’s a bad thing, or, honestly, just quickly search Google.) And all three of the Tosh-heavy episodes (”Greeks Bearing Gifts,” “To the Last Man,” and “Adam”) feature her being unlucky in love (Mary betraying her, Tommy dying, and Adam manipulating her). Plus, there’s everything with Owen where she pines after him for years only for him to finally recognize that before he dies, and then he, well, dies; that plot arc only ends in death and sadness.

Additionally, we only have limited background for Tosh in comparison to Jack and Gwen (who I guess you could kind of say are the main characters) but even in comparison to Ianto (for whom more background was revealed only because he became a more prominent character in COE.) We know she was born in London, moved to Japan as a child, and at some point moved back before growing up in the United Kingdom. She had a younger brother (mentioned in a deleted scene in “Captain Jack Harkness”) and a grandfather who worked at Bletchley Park (mentioned in “Greeks Bearing Gifts” and “Captain Jack Harkness.”) She also very much loved her family, or at least her mother, enough to commit treason for her, despite her mother only being seen in “End of Days” and “Fragments.” But that’s about it.

There was so much more Torchwood could have done with Tosh. We could have seen more about her family or her education. We certainly could have seen more about her bisexuality; everything that happened with Mary was not a satisfying resolution. Instead, she was killed off alongside Owen in “Exit Wounds.” Torchwood used the death of a woman of color for shock value, and no matter how effective or emotional that was, it was not excusable. There was so much story left to be told with Toshiko Sato.

Tosh’s death brought the racial diversity in Torchwood down to zilch.

Next, we have Lisa Hallett.

Now, Lisa Hallett...what do we actually know about her? She worked at Torchwood One, dated Ianto Jones, and loved him enough to maybe fight cyberprogramming for him - this part might be subjective to your own interpretation of “Cyberwoman.” We don’t know anything about her, really, apart from how she is defined and described for a white male main character, which...is problematic enough. I mean, would it have been too much to ask the writers for maybe some further description? I mean, I don’t know. Maybe where exactly she worked in Torchwood London? How she joined? How she met Ianto? If she had any family, any other friends? Why she loved Torchwood and worked there? Heck, a flashback scene featuring a non-cyberized Lisa and Ianto would have been brilliant. Is that too much to have asked of the Torchwood writers? I don’t know.

Then there’s the entire fact that Lisa was turned into a Cyberwoman. Now, I have many problems with how Doctor Who and Torchwood uses its Cybermen, especially regarding its continuous brutalization of black and brown bodies for emotional and shock value (Lisa, Danny Pink, and Bill Potts are only some examples.) It sends a very, very nasty message to these shows’ viewers of color, especially if they’re younger and more impressionable. Plus, the depiction of Lisa in “Cyberwoman” was uncomfortable and unnecessarily sexualized, but this is a whole different essay. But in the end, Lisa Hallett was pumped with bullets many, many times, and her death only added to the emotional pain of a white man.

Now, we come to more minor characters.

Beth Halloran was a human who did not know her true identity as an alien sleeper agent. She had a very interesting and action-packed story arc in “Sleeper” before ending up dead at the hands of Torchwood. She had an emotional struggle between her human identity and her truth as an alien sleeper and chose to help save the world, intentionally ending up dead at the hands of Torchwood. That being said, she was still another character of color who Torchwood had bothered fleshing out who ended up dead.

Next, there’s Dr. Rupesh Patanjali.

Introduced in COE, he’s a medical doctor who catches Jack and Ianto working on a case and ends up piquing their interest after he makes some shit up. Spoiler alert: he’s an MI-5 plant. We see Gwen attempt to conduct orientation and recruitment with him. He has a fun setup to be a potential new Torchwood member and inside spy, but instead, he lures Jack to the hospital where Jack’s implanted with a bomb. And despite doing his job as requested and doing it rather well, Rupesh Patanjali is shot dead by Agent Johnson that very episode, just like Beth.

Then we have Lois Habiba, arguably the most interesting and fun character introduced in COE.

She’s a naive newcomer, almost like Gwen, but during her first week working in the Home Office, she finds herself committing treason, conspiring against her boss Frobisher, and helping save the world from an alien invasion. She’s smart, resourceful, and principled, very much like Ianto. Like with a lot of the characters on this list, we know next-to-nothing about her background, which is odd considering her rather major role in COE. And despite being seemingly set up to become a member of Torchwood, we never see her again.

Finally, we come to Miracle Day and its two new characters of color, Rex Matheson and Dr. Vera Juarez. I won’t be getting into too much detail here, especially since MD has its own problems.

Ah, Rex.

Torchwood finally has a man of color for a main character who seems like he could be an interesting foil to Jack (a high-ranking CIA agent with a high bullshit meter), and what do they do...they kill him in his first scene. Oh, and they make him “lightly” homophobic, because that’s always fun. And then he ends up immortal in some kind of bullshit plot hole...I have enough to say there.

Vera, however, was quite interesting. Again, little to no background besides the basic (from San Antonio, had an ex-husband, is a surgeon), but she was still a Latina medical doctor. She had morals and was very stubborn and determined to save people, which is why she insisted into helping Torchwood sneak into the overflow camp. And what did she get for that? She ended up brutually shot in front of her lover Rex, which traumatized them both, and then literally burnt alive. Thrown on top of that? In a quite meta move really, the death of another woman of color was used to incite outrage around the country, and the world, and expose the wrongdoings of the United States government regarding the Miracle. Good stuff? Either way, it came at the cost of the death of one strong woman of color and the further trauma of another man of color.

Plus, there’s everything about how unnecessarily violent and graphic some of the deaths of these characters of color. To put it into perspective, think about how Owen or Ianto or Esther died. (I’m not trying to reduce the values of their deaths; I’m just trying to get you to think about it.)

So yeah, that’s all I have to say about that. Torchwood, you could have done better with your characters of color. (And thank you if you stuck all this way with me.)

TLDR; Torchwood has neglected or mistreated its characters of color, given them little or no background, and brutally killed them off, often for shock value.

#torchwood #characters of color #torchwood meta #suzie costello #toshiko sato #lisa hallett #beth halloran #rupesh patanjali #rex matheson #vera juarez #children of earth #miracle day #nik wrote a literal essay

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modecaisnow · 4 years ago

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Fitness Roommates

**This story contains topics suitable for 18 YEARS OR OLDER! Read at your own digression. This story contains themes of realistic(ish) weight gain (ie. 150 pounds – 800), mentions of challenges being overweight. This story is 3360 words, and 6 pages long, was gonna be part 1+2. This was a story I had saved for a bit. ENJOY!**

[This story follows Tyler and Zach, a dynamic duo of health and fitness. Zach, a bodybuilder with all the know how of exercise, and Tyler, a healthy and fit nutritionist, have teamed up and opened a business together. However, their business has gotten slow and not as many people are getting memberships anymore. As a marketing experiment, Tyler agrees to pack on some weight with the ultimate plan to lose it all following their dieting and exercise plan. But, it turns out gaining weight is a little more enjoyable than Tyler expected.]

Zach and Tyler have been friends for years. They first met in their freshman year of college, and Zach and Tyler were both fitness buffs. Their bodies were toned with dense muscles, but Zach was much larger. Zachary studied Athletic Training and Tyler studied Nutrition over the years. After 4 years of college, they decided to open a gym together and become business partners. Zach would help train people and show them how to exercise, and Tyler would teach them about nutrition. However, a couple of years later things have changed. Zach walked into the living room of their apartment. His face was akin to a greek god – high cheekbones, square jawline, and a strong nose. He was a tall, tan-skinned, with a body covered in rippling muscles. From his thick neck and massive traps to his softball-sized calves, which everyone used to tease him and call them ‘steers’, Zach was the personified ideal of fitness. His broad shoulders and flared out lats created the classic ‘V’ shape all bodybuilders aspired to get. His arms were absolutely massive, with cannonball-sized biceps, horseshoe triceps, and forearms that were as large as a normal man’s biceps. Zach’s torso and legs were just as impressive. His barrel chest must’ve been 60 inches and was covered in brown hairs. Beneath his meaty pillows that were his pecs was a wall of abs that looked like bricks. A dark trail of hairs led down his carved abs and into his boxers, which were being stretched from both ends. Zach was blessed with large junk in the front and a lot of junk in the trunk. His bubble butt was made of pure steel and bounced along everywhere he walked. Further down were two thick quads with equally powerful hamstrings. Bellow the knees were the most well defined and muscular looking calves anyone has ever seen. Tyler, on the other hand, was not nearly as much of a ‘greek god’ as Zach. He was very toned, but also on the skinny side. His face was square with a pointed chin and a sloped nose. His hair was cut short, and he didn’t have much facial hair. Being a nutritionist, he knew all the ins and outs of healthy eating and dieting. He was part of the reason why Zach looks the way he looks. He kept Zach on his meal plan. Tyler has helped countless gym-goers reach their goals faster and easier with the help of his dieting plans. Tyler looked up at Zach. He stood in his boxers in front of the TV, blocking his view of it. Zach crossed his arms, causing his large slabs of chest meat to squeeze together. Tyler grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. “Is everything okay, man?” Tyler asked. “We have to talk about business.” “What’s up?” “It’s been slow recently-“ “-Yeah-“ “-and I have an idea,” Zach sat down on the brown, cloth couch next to Tyler. Zach widened his eyes and tried to look innocent. “Well, …what’s the idea?” “Well, bro, what if we have an experiment where one of us puts on some weight, and then we both work together to try and get that person back to a healthy weight?” “That might be good, but it might take too long. We need people to join now, not after months of gaining and months of losing weight.” “Well, with our expertise, we’ll be able to lose the weight pretty quickly,” Zach snickered. “Also, I’m sure you know of some quick weight gain techniques.” “I mean…I guess,” We both sat there quietly for a moment. Zach continued to stare deeply into Tyler's eyes. “So…do you want me to put on the weight?” Tyler hesitantly ask. “…Do you mind?” “I mean…I guess…” Zach jumped up. His face brightened up and he fist pumped into the air. The two immediately started to plan out how this would work, and Tyler got to work researching foods and gaining techniques. He started planning out a grocery list filled with unhealthy fats, carbs, protein, sugars, as well as a plan for minimal movement for himself. Zach started to create exercise plans so when Tyler finishes putting on the weight they’ll be all set to take off the pounds. Before starting it all, Tyler stepped up on the scale to take the initial weight. He was 154 pounds. At first, gaining was an awkward feeling. Tyler’s flat abs slowly started to look more and more like a gut. He was continuously shoveling food into his mouth, even while at work. It made it difficult to work with new patients, given that their nutritionist was eating junk food, and had a little bit of a belly while trying to give tips on staying healthy. After explaining the experiment to every single patient, they all seemed to understand. After the first week of constant binging, eating even while Tyler was stuffed in order to expand his tank of a gut, he had managed to pack on 15 pounds. His flat wall of abs had officially become a rounded, flabby belly. When he sat down, it would flop over the waistband of his pants. Tyler’s hips were stretching his pants to their max. The waistband would dig into his hips, and his thighs actually ripped the seams of one of his favorite pair of pants. And still, Tyler continued to gain weight. He added more meals into his daily diet and doubled the serving sizes. Tyler added two snacks between meals, as well as a “weight gain” shake between snacking. All this food, along with his restricted movement, helped him gain weight exponentially. Tyler’s face was looking rounder and fuller. His arms were softer and would stretch the sleeves of his tightening shirts. The once toned chest started to sag down over his belly, which was spilling down lower and lower towards his crotch. Even his pubic area was softer – a layer of fat was forming and starting to creep towards his junk. Everything about Tyler was getting flabbier. This continued for weeks. Tyler had to expand his entire wardrobe. One day, when he went to sit down, his shorts gave in and ripped all the way down his ass cheeks. From that day on, Tyler only wore stretchy pants – no more khakis, or dress pants, just the stretchy kind. His shirts also went from XL to XXL, and then just as quickly to XXXL. Tyler was officially 330 pounds. His chest continued to sag lower and lower as his belly continued to get larger and larger. Tyler had patients who were as large and some who were much, much larger, and they used to tell him what it was like to be big. However, now he lived it. The sagging breasts slid and rolled over his belly, which seemed to weigh him down. As Tyler walked, he needed to lean back a little bit so his substantial belly wouldn’t pull him down to the ground. Even sitting in chairs, which now had to not have armrests so his hips could fit, he needed to slouch and lean back so his belly could spill over his lap. It was quite the feeling. After a while, Tyler started to like it. It felt nice to be big, but he didn’t feel big enough yet. Zach asked him if he was ready to start their little experiment. Tyler told him that he wasn’t ready, and Tyler asked for a couple more weeks – business picked up anyway since it was about a month away from New Years. Tyler continued shoveling fattening treats into his mouth. Serving sizes became even larger, he went from 6 meals a day to 9, and he started doubling the size of the gainer shakes. This was to help break out of his weight plateau. His arms started to feel even heavier, and Tyler’s thighs always brushed against each other. His feet also started to get fatter, to the point where he needed to purchase ‘wide-fit’ shoes. At night, he would slouch on the sofa, which started to feel slightly smaller, and he would balance a 60ounce cup of soda on the crest of his soft belly, and slurp it down. All while lazily watching whatever was on TV. After chugging the entire soda, Tyler would rub his belly to help with all the bubbles. His blubber was warm and malleable. He could no longer see his belly button, or feet as a matter of fact, but Tyler could still poke a finger in the deepening cave that was his belly button. When he waddled onto the scale, it showed he was about 423 pounds. Eating only got easier and easier as the holidays came. Zach and Tyler usually went their separate ways to see their respective families, since Zach’s are out west, and Tyler’s are up north, but this season they had decided to just relax and focus on the experiment. Tyler continued to bloat up and shovel food into his face, and now that holiday cookies were out and on sale, he made it his goal to eat at least 3 boxes of cookies a day. Zach would tease him and say that Tyler surpassed ‘Santa-size,’ and Tyler laughed along with him. Deep down, he was excited to see how far he could push this. Tyler’s neck had officially disappeared into the fat on his shoulders and chins after a couple days of gorging. Actually, his chins were now flopping onto the crest of his flabby chest. Tyler’s moobs hung down, almost as far down as his elbows – not quite, but close. His fat arms started to feel very heavy. Despite always being hungry, after hours of grabbing for food, it started to feel like an arm workout. When sitting down, he would have to spread his legs far apart to give his substantial belly room to flop down. On the topic of his belly, a fold had started to form above his belly button, creating the double-belly look. Tyler’s belly was getting hard to contain in shirts, so instead, he started to get even larger pants to pull the waistband over it. Speaking of, Tyler’s pant sizes went up a lot faster than his shirt sizes did. He needed extra stretchy, 6XL pants in order to try to contain his growing belly. The fat over his junk also grew, making it hard to reach down there, as well as use the bathroom. However, he figured out how to manage in both areas. Tyler started to just sit on the toilet when he needed to pee, and just reach around and push his fat pad down towards the toilet bowl. Tyler also started to sleep on his side at night, it was much more comfortable, and whenever he’d need to shift his belly, Tyler could just dig a finger in his belly button like a hook, and shift it manually. After the holidays went, Tyler stepped on the scale for the first time in a few weeks. He was officially 546 pounds. Zach was proud and impressed. He asked Tyler when he would want to start buying healthy foods and start training. Tyler told him to instead buy a larger scale. Zach looked a little concerned at first, but Tyler explained that in order for them to make a bigger impact, they would need a bigger test subject. Zach eventually agreed and continued to go along with everything. He even did buy a larger scale, one that went up to 850 pounds. At this point, food became really expensive for them to afford on their own. In order to eat a meal every hour, on the hour, the two needed to dip into their company’s profit. It would be fine since it would all work out in the end. Thanks to their excellent accounting skills, Tyler was able to eat as much as he wanted, when he wanted. Tyler truly blew up in size after this. Walking became really difficult…well, if you can call it walking. It was more like a waddle. Tyler mostly spent time sitting on the couch, eating, watching TV, with the occasional trip to the fridge, or to the front door to great the delivery boy. After a while, Zach mentioned it would be best that he didn’t walk too far, so he moved the fridge into the living room, and anything else that was needed, he would get for Tyler. Tyler rarely went to the gym anymore to meet patients in person. Instead, Zach set up an online messaging system for him to reach out to their “premium” customers. That way they wouldn’t be able to be turned off by what a huge blob of lard Tyler was becoming. His ass cheeks started to take up a considerable amount of space not only on the poor little couch but in his bed as well. Tyler was just about as wide as his full-sized mattress, so Zach thought it was best to buy him a larger one. Zach was about to buy a larger sofa too but figured that he didn’t need to since he never really sat on it. Zach was rarely in the living room anyway, unless it was to drop off Tyler’s next heap of food. He was always working or working out. Shirts and pants both struggled to contain all of Tyler. Folds and rolls of flab started to ripple and slide over one another as he walked, hiccupped, or burped. His breasts had become so large that a pillow of flab had connected his moobs to the wings of back flab. This gave Tyler’s arms more support, which made it less work to shovel food into his fattening face since all he needed to do was just bend his elbow. Tyler’s cheeks were very fat and flopped down his face and onto his shoulder flab. Sweat almost constantly dripped down from his brow, and he was almost always out of breath. When Tyler finally stepped on the scale, he was up to 623 pounds. He still shoved on…well, he still shoveled more food in. At this rate, he was just eating one large, nonstop buffet of food a day. Tyler was always ordering pizzas, Chinese takeout, donuts, and delivery from every fast food joint in a 10-mile radius using those new food delivery apps on his phone. Tyler continued to gorge, slurp, and chomp down food for a few more weeks. As it got closer to the end of January, he had officially changed his wardrobe to 12XL shirts, and God only knows how many X’s for his XL sweat pant shorts. It was interesting to wear them because, with each day he grew fatter and fatter, one could see the ends of the drawstrings slowly disappear, as they were pulled deeper into the expanding stretchy waistband. As Tyler’s stomach grew so did his fupa. It became impossible for him to reach even close to his fat pad anymore. Whenever Tyler used the bathroom, it came to the point where he would have to just sit and pray that it went in. His old technique of digging into that deep belly button to shift his mound of a gut had officially been rendered impossible. Tyler couldn’t reach down that far anymore. Tyler sat on the ever-shrinking couch, with his ass cheeks spilling outward on both sides and behind him by a foot, and shoved more food into his deep mouth. His moobs had officially started to hang lower than his elbows, which were now a series of folds of flab. Tyler’s arms were incredibly flabby and even when he raised them over his head, some of the fat would still be weighing down against his torso. That massive belly of his hung down, past his knees as he leaned back. Tyler’s fat feet didn’t fit in normal shoes anymore, and Zach had to measure them to get custom made ones. Tyler was a mound of flab, and he loved every soft, wobbly inch of it. When Zach finally brought the large scale into the living room, Tyler placed his feet down and rose up off the couch. He was officially 710 pounds, and he was not quite done yet though. Tyler had one more goal he wanted to reach– to officially take up all the space on the couch. Zach, after trying to convince him that enough was enough, finally caved in and agreed to help Tyler gain even more weight. To do so, Zach raised the price of their gym membership. He told people it was for “marketing purposes,” and most people thought it was a good idea. Little did they know, it was to stuff Tyler’s fat face with food. It only took a couple weeks before he met that goal. It was hard to increase the frequency of Tyler’s feedings, so instead, he increased the amount he stuffed in at one time. Since his cheeks had bloated up, Tyler found there was more room in his mouth to hold food. As a result, he ate multiple pizza slices at once, instead of one at a time. He also would dump food in by the containers. This included containers of french fries, chicken nuggets, candy, Twinkies, devil dogs, breadsticks, bowls of pasta, you name it – Tyler just dumped it in. It must’ve been the sight to see. His downstairs neighbors hated it though. They had started to leave complaints about an “elephant” walking around, making their ceiling rattle. Tyler used that as more fuel to his fire. He continued to stomp around his apartment like the whale of a man he was, in order to get to his next source of food. The ground would groan and the couch would creak with every little shift of motion. Tyler’s folds and rolls of flab rippled and jiggled as he chewed, burped, hiccupped, scratched, pretty much any type of movement caused him to undulate like a waterbed. Tyler’s arms were extremely heavy and tremendously difficult to move. However, his insatiable desire to eat and feast gave him all the strength Tyler needed. As his hips started to finally touch the armrests of the couch, he called out for Zach. Zach was thrilled. Not only for Tyler, but also for the publicity this would get the two of them and their business. Tyler couldn’t help but smile and think about how much larger he could get. To celebrate, Zach went all out and hired caterers for the evening. That night, Tyler went all in on the food. The caterers pulled in carts, and tables of food, and set them up all around Tyler. They all circled around him, and he would eat from whichever one was in front of his fat mountain range of a body. As Tyler finished off one table, they wheeled the emptied table away, and immediately wheeled in the next one. He just ate and ate and ate all evening, until there was absolutely nothing left. Tyler probably could’ve eaten a little bit more, but his arms were incredibly tired. As the caterers all funneled out of their place, Tyler’s stomach gurgled and growled for more. He rubbed and pat his fat sides with his hands sending tiny ripples reverberating through his gelatinous form. Tyler leaned forward and moaned as he felt his heavy love handles slide against the armrests of the couch. His folds all glided against each other, and the two massive ass cheeks seemed to rise up out of the deep crater they formed in the cushions. He was massive. Zach quickly grabbed the massive scale and placed it right under Tyler’s fat feet. His massive thighs made it hard to keep his feet close enough to stand on the scale. Zach grabbed Tyler’s fat fingers and pulled him up onto his feet. Tyler’s bulky flab slid off of the couch and flopped downward. As he stood up, the scale buzzed. “What…does it…say?” Tyler huffed, out of breath from standing. “It says ‘Error.’ Damn…” Zach muttered and smiled. “What’s the…weight limit?” He wiped the sweat from his brow. “850 Pounds.” Tyler was massive…and he loved it… -THE END-

#maleweightgain #weightgain #muscleguy #SSBHM

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angelharness · 4 years ago

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Seen a plethora of kink lists for killers but have yet to come across any for the survivors, so!

WARNINGS: n/sfw or at least heavily suggestive

DWIGHT FAIRFIELD

Exhibitionism, Humiliation (Receiving)

His taste is very much surprising. Regardless of his peculiar preferences, he tends to require plenty of encouragement and a heaping of reassurance along the way that he's doing alright. It's something he fiercely represses and never really indicates immediately, but he's incredibly into humiliation. He'd never admit it directly, though drops a number of fairly unsubtle hints. Never expect him to take on a dominant role; it already takes a lot for him to feel entirely comfortable.

MEG THOMAS

Overstimulation (Giving), Light Choking (Giving)

Prefers to exert control. While not listed here, she's pretty into humiliation, something she doesn't express at first. Equipped with an impressive degree of stamina, which she makes sure to exercise during the fact. Might tease your lack of durability, though it's peppered with giggling kisses. Definitely into some slight choking, though is adamant you establish a safe signal. She can get intense but prioritizes safety.

CLAUDETTE MOREL

Praise (Giving, Receiving), Aftercare (Giving, Receiving), a touch of masochism

Unsurprisingly tame. Prefers the experience to be mellow and intimate, and is the type to regularly check in. Horrible at dirty talk anyway, she is more so fond of praise, whether giving or receiving. On the other hand, does have a thing for some light masochism. Nothing intense at all, but there are certainly undertones. It's up to you to catch those indications.

JAKE PARK

Outdoor Sex, Edging (Giving, Receiving)

The former is probably expected. I say outdoor in place of public as he views sex as an inherently very private act, and isn't particularly fond of the introduction of risk. If you can find a confidential spot nestled somewhere in the woods, he's all for it. Doesn't especially mind getting dirty and appreciates a shared shower afterward. Prefers enacting the edging, but isn't against enduring it himself.

NEA KARLSSON

Risky Places, Marking (Giving)

Risky places are a given. This doesn't necessarily mean populated areas, in fact she prefers that hint of privacy, but abandoned lots and structures are a personal favorite of hers. Not partial to receiving bite marks, though may suck it up if you're real enthusiastic about the idea. Likes seeing her work but also finds fun in you scrambling to cover it up in preparation of an upcoming trial.

ACE VISCONTI

Dirty Talk, Light Bondage (Giving, Receiving)

His taste for risk translates heavily into his preferences, but he could tone it down if it's not your style. Always loves dirty talk, whether before the fact or during (and doesn't at all mind some thrown his way, either). Up for campy, outlandish roleplays, especially if it incorporates tacky costumes. Either way, he's going to be grinning stupidly the whole while through. No pain directed his way can seem to rid him of that awful smile. There's no punishment you can conjure up that he won't somehow enjoy.

FENG MIN

Light Humiliation (Giving, Receiving), Denial (Giving)

All about challenge. While naturally gearing towards a dominant role, doesn't like someone who falls instantly into submission, and will quickly get bored if that's the case. Appreciates a little fight, as long as it's all well-natured and reasonable. She's a bit of an experimentalist on the side, is pretty much always open to switching things up, even if it's entirely new territory to her. May be up for some public dallying, too; the risk adds flavor.

DAVID KING

Breath Play (Giving), Aftercare

His tastes are extreme but his implementation is usually fairly easygoing. He needs some time to wind down, always being so wound up; this is a good chance to get him to mellow out. He can go for a good couple of rounds but afterward is out cold. For a long while too. While he prefers control, you might be able to persuade him to take on a more laid-back, passive role, which he surprisingly comes to enjoy. He won't initiate the arrangement, uncharacteristically embarrassed, but gives plenty of cues.

KATE DENSON

Praise (Giving), Body Worship (Giving, Receiving)

Has a rather vanilla palette. Strongly against humiliation and degradation of any kind, though supposes she could try if so desired. She is always incredibly affectionate and makes sure to check in with you routinely. Sex for her is commonly to de-stress, though that doesn't mean it isn't incredibly sentimental to her. Considers the occasion to be very personal and vulnerable, and appreciates that you're willing to expose yourself so.

ADAM FRANCIS

Sensation Play, Aftercare

Like Kate, sees this as a reasonable outlet to cool off and generally unwind. Still, though, it's a very meaningful and sincere act to him. You can probably get him to loosen up and maybe laugh a bit as you maneuver new territory. He's often serious and is silently thankful for the chance to decompress. Your pleasure is often his foremost desire, but always appreciates being taken care of some, too.

JEFF JOHANSEN

Blindfolding (Giving), Biting (Giving, Receiving)

He's a little surprising, though you do suppose it's always the quiet ones. Fits into either role quite easily and is very open to new experiences. If he's choosing, though, the two listed are always safe bets for him. It's rarer for the act to take place in the first place, but when it does it's oddly cathartic for him. In a way, it's a canvas for expression. He makes sure to reinforce how important you are and how much he appreciates you. Very casual about the ordeal; talented in helping to ease your anxieties.

JANE ROMERO

Filming, Biting (Receiving)

Specific to filming, rather than public acts. She likes a little risk, so long as it's in a controlled environment. Adores receiving marks, which she'll sport with visible pride around you. Otherwise, though, she'll bashfully cover it up with heavy makeup. Typically takes on a comfortably submissive position, but is sure to voice her preferences and desires. Always listens to yours, as well, and anything reasonable and safe is pretty much fair game.

YUI KIMURA

Hair Pulling (Giving), Collaring (Giving)

More comfortable expressing control. Somewhere in the future she might be open to a little role reversal, but for the time being she's more inclined to a position of dominance. Despite all this, is very open to receiving minor marking, specifically scratching and biting. She'll wear it proudly (secretly). Very fond of hair pulling. Might tug yours in the midst of a trial just to get a reaction, but is sure to follow up on the teasing afterward.

ZARINA KASSIR

Filming, Risky Places

Much like Jane, she likes filming, though very much prefers the intended audience to remain you two. She keeps the tape as a fun little memento, but is sure to keep it secret. It's great (non-serious) blackmail material, and she makes sure to tease you about it regularly. Also a bit into risky places, but to a much lesser degree. She likes the possibility of someone stumbling across the scene, but isn't so sure of it in actuality.

FELIX RICHTER

Denial (Giving), Aftercare

A fairly mellow guy. It takes a bit for him to loosen up and express his desires, a lot of which he's not sure of himself. Some experimenting has to take place, but once he defines his tastes he's pretty strict to keeping to them. Finds himself enjoying the build up and aftercare more than the act itself (though it goes without saying he appreciates it too); more likely to find pleasure in the experience if he's sure you are first and foremost.

#ns/f/w tag is junkbox #junkbox #dbd x reader #survivors x reader #horror x reader #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #dbd imagine #horror imagine #x reader #reader insert #💾:harpy writez

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enjennie · 4 years ago

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Chapter 2 - Coffee Boy and a Chess Tournament

Chapter 1

Chapter 3 - Here

Word count: 2.5k

The girls were in a frenzy when they got to know about Yuri’s mystery coffee man. The girls in question would be Seoyun, Hyebin and Cho with the exception of Minjae, who had some student council business and ran off before they could have lunch together.

“Oh my, who could this be? Describe him to me once more,” Cho had her arm looped through Yuri’s as they walked out of the dining hall after having their lunch. Seoyun and Hyebin walked a few steps in front of them. Yuri couldn’t help but giggle, a week hasn’t gone by yet but a boy had already managed to catch her eye. She thought about his face for a moment, and started describing it to Cho. “Well, he had kind of a messy hair look. Had a varsity jacket on and wore all black underneath. Really bright eyes and oh don’t even get me started about his smile,” Yuri almost swooned.

Cho repeatedly starts hitting Yuri’s arm, uncontrollably giggling and shaking her by the shoulders. “He was wearing a varsity jacket? So he must be on the team!”

“Probably? I’m not sure which sport, though,” Yuri tells Cho, but Cho only shook her off. “There’s only one varsity team, silly. The Neos,” Cho explained, making big motions with her hands, but Yuri was no longer focusing on what she was saying when the mystery man himself had come striding in front of them.

Yuri hurriedly gets Cho’s attention by tapping on her arm and whispering, “That’s him! Over there,” Cho follows Yuri’s eyes and the two look onto the field that stretched acres. “No way,” Cho’s eyes widened, pulling her sunglasses down to make sure she was seeing correctly. “Na Jaemin?” the girl exclaimed.

“Are you sure it’s him?”

Seoyun, Cho, Yuri and Hyebin were now sat on a picnic bench in the quad, huddled together and discussing the situation at hand. “It all makes sense, of course it’s him! I should’ve known when Yuri said coffee!” Cho facepalmed at her own ignorance.

Cho is the elite’s main source of information. She knows what’s the latest news about anyone within the campus. Knows where to get the best drugs, who’s throwing the parties, and where. She’ll get to know anything, all with one swipe on her phone. Which is why she felt foolish for not thinking about Na Jaemin, Oakwood’s heartthrob and one of their elite members. The boy who can send any girl to their feet with one look. “I just didn’t expect it… I don’t know why after Yeeun I didn’t think Jaemin had it in him to date,”

Yuri’s head turn in light of the information. “Yeeun, my roommate?”

Seoyun nodded, “The two dated for the first two semesters of freshmen year, then broke off when Yeeun and Jeno got caught hooking up at a party,” she explained to the dumbfounded girl. Yuri frowned, “Was that why-“

“That’s why I told you not to meddle with Jeno,”

“Did Yeeun and Jeno date then?”

“Yes, for a while. Like, two weeks a while. We’ve never seen Jaemin and Jeno be apart for so long we thought it was over for good, but I guess they worked it out in the summer since they’re pals again,”

Yuri’s head was spinning at this point. She hadn’t even met Yeeun yet, so she tried not to get her perception of her roommate get affected by the things she’s hearing about her.

After a while, the group of girls pack it up and start heading back to the dorms when Cho receives a text regarding a party. “Of course, it’s one of Jeno’s parties. So he can fish out the girls he wants to play with for the year,” Minjae, who’d joined them a few minutes before, rolled her eyes. Cho and Hyebin on the other hand didn’t share her distaste for the male. “You can’t deny, Jeno throws the best parties,”

She couldn’t. It was true. But she was uninterested.

“11pm chess tournament, first 5th at the Lee Estate,”

Yuri blinked, registering the unfamiliar terms. “First fifth?”

Minjae put her arm around the girl as she elucidated to the somehow always clueless Yuri. “The first fifth would mean this Friday. We use codes like chess tournament or board games to talk about upcoming parties. We change it up every now and then, though. To prevent weasels,”

Yuri understood right away, but didn’t think there would be a need for these types of stuff.

“Isn’t college all about parties?” Yuri asked, matter of factly, humouring Minjae and Seoyun. “Then you came to the wrong school. Oakwood doesn’t allow parties, this is where rich families send their troubled children they don’t have time for. Discipline here is no joke,”

Yuri wondered how she never knew this about the school she’d done extensive research about before applying to.

The week flew by quickly, and soon enough Yuri found herself on the fifth of the week. She managed to survive all her classes and was pretty satisfied with how well she’s coping up. Despite being new to her surroundings, she’s only gotten lost in the campus twice. Which is a record, for newbies apparently. Hyebin told Yuri about her first time getting lost at Oakwood and she ended up at the teacher’s locker rooms. She recalled having to squat under a desk for hours, praying to god no one would use the desk she was under. Both girls had a laugh about it.

Today would be the party, but before that, they had to join orgs and clubs. Minjae, as student body secretary, already has the council as her club. Seoyun on the other hand, signed up for theater along with Renjun. Cho and Hyebin, were nowhere in sight which forced Yuri to go about club hunting on her own.

She’d thought about it for the whole week, however she wasn’t entirely sure yet. Originally, she would just join any orgs her friends were in but she can’t run for student body, and neither can she act so that was out of the question.

Yuri looked around her, flocks of people gathered in small and big groups, already looking like they were all familiar with each other. She dug her hands deep in her pockets and sighed before catching sight of somewhere that actually interested her.

Student Publication club, their banner was straight to the point and plain. A boy in a similar looking varsity as Yuri had seen Jaemin and Jeno wearing sat in front of the desk, beside him was Cho, who Yuri was glad to see. She walked towards them and waved when Cho’s eyes met hers.

“Yuri! Did you join a club yet?” Cho enthused. Yuri shook her head, and the boy beside Cho lifts his eyes from the paper he was reading.

“Depends, are you guys still hiring?” Yuri inspected the sign up sheet displayed on their table, which had a good amount of names scribbled on it already. Cho hands her a pen, “You’re so in. This is Mark, pub president,”

“I’d appreciate if you stopped calling our club a pub,” the said Mark scolds. “Nice to meet you I’m Mark Lee,” he stretched his hand forward and Yuri shook it. “Pleased to meet you, Mark,”

Mark has dark hair that fell over his forehead and round eyes that pierced through Yuri’s. He has high cheekbones and a nicely defined jawline. Mark flashes Yuri a smile and she’s stunned by it.

When will I stop getting surprised by all the hot boys that roam this school?

“Hi, losers. How’s it going?” a boy with hair that resembled a lion’s mane had walked up to the table. He had full lips and cute cheeks.

“Speak for yourself, Donghyuck,” Cho retorts at the boy.

The boy faces Yuri, giving her a curt smile. “Oh, are you signing up? I got a tip for you… run now,” he says, before receiving a firm backhand smack from Mark who’d leaned over the table. Yuri laughed, watching the two boys wrestle. “It’s almost time. I reckon no one else wants to sign up, so what do you say we wrap up?” Cho nudges Mark and he agrees. “Yuri? Want to go together?”

“Sure,”

“Oh you’re the Yuri I’ve been hearing about. Hi, I’m Donghyuck, you can call me Hyuck for short,” the boy had gotten himself out of Mark’s headlock and fixed himself up. “The Yuri you’ve been hearing about?” Yuri asked.

Hyuck nods, “Renjun hit you with the soccer ball, right?” he chuckled and Yuri wanted to curl up into a ball right then and there. “Is that what I’m known for now?” Yuri scrunched her nose, cringing. Hyuck laughed, his eyes glimmered and he pats her shoulder as a form of consoling. “That’s fine, I was known as the bread boy last year… I shoved a whole roll into my mouth and the photos weren’t pretty,” he looked scornfully as he remembered his past.

Yuri’s lips curled into a smile and she laughed at Hyuck’s little story.

“Yuri, c’mon,” Cho pulls on Yuri’s arm and the two mutter a quick goodbye to each other before Yuri’s swept away.

“So you’ve met her,”

The boys were gathered in the field, by the bleachers. The soccer team was already their club, so they didn’t have to go club searching and signing up. Donghyuck and Mark had caught up to Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun who were sat, sharing a blunt.

“Yeah. You guys didn’t tell me she was that much of a stunner, I could’ve prepared for a better first impression,” muttered Hyuck, who had his hair in a mess and a lazy outfit to match.

Renjun scoffed, “Please, I hit her with a soccer ball. How’s that for a first impression?”

The boys shared laughs and Jeno looks over at Jaemin, who was looking through his camera checking the shots he was able to take from the event.

“Someone’s quiet,” Jeno comments.

Jaemin’s head shot up, already knowing it was him. “What?”

“I heard from Seoyun that you left quite an impression on Yuri,” Jeno sported a sly grin on his face. Jaemin rolls his eyes, looking back down at his camera.

“I just gave her coffee because she looked like she was gonna die without it,”

“Right,” Renjun murmured.

“Shut up, Renjun,” the boy hissed.

Yuri was confused. Not only did Minjae just push a Versace dress to her chest, complete with Louboutins to match, she also told her to ‘keep it’.

“Wait, but why?” uttered Yuri, examining the dress and shoes that probably cost more than all her life spending totaled. Minjae didn’t bat an eye as she pulled out another dress from her wardrobe in a stone blue shade, putting it against her body to check if it was what she was going for. “I don’t think red suits me, but I reckon it’d look good on you though, so keep it,” she mutters.

“I can’t take this, Minjae. But thank you,” Yuri mused as she put down the dress and shoes on the bed. Minjae turned around and crossed her arms. “Then what will you wear to the party?”

“I think I have a Zara dress somewhere,” Yuri shrugged.

“You can’t be caught dead in a Zara dress. We’re not in our 30s yet! Put this on. It’s an order,” Minjae took the dress and pushes it into Yuri’s hands once more. The girl could only abide.

Once dressed, the girls go about their plan to meet up at Hyebin’s dorm. Sneaking past the RA and professors going on rounds, they arrived without getting caught. By 10:30, they were removing their heels to get ready to make their escape through Hyebin’s terrace.

“You want me to jump?” Yuri gasped, looking down at the height in which they had to come down from.

The rest of the girls had already made their way down, strategically climbing down using the rope they’d tied to the railing of the terrace. They were now waiting for Yuri, who looked like a cat scared for its life.

“You’ve got… three girls to catch you, don’t worry!” called Seoyun in a hushed voice.

“We have 2 minutes until the guard comes back around,” Minjae looked down at her phone.

“Granted, it’s our fault for not telling her beforehand that she’d be coming down at least 3 meters high off a balcony,” Hyebin looked up at Yuri in pity. “Come on, girl! You got this,” encouraged Seoyun at her poor friend.

Yuri’s heart raced and with sweaty hands, she threw her legs over the railing and grabbed onto the rope, hugging it for dear life. She probably flashed the three girls but her only agenda was to really get to the ground safe, and so she did.

“Great! Nice one, Yuri. Come on,” Seoyun had her heels in hand and she grabs Yuri’s with the other, pulling her to the direction of the trees for their getaway. Seoyun, Hyebin, Yuri and Minjae ran altogether until they reach a secluded area, unfamiliar to Yuri.

“Now,” Seoyun puts her heels back on. “The fun starts,” she continued, before running towards to a hooded figure in the distance and being engulfed in a hug. She pulls the person into the light, revealing Renjun.

“You girls ready to party?” yelled an ecstatic Jeno, who’d appeared from a convertible car parked behind Renjun.

I’ve gone down a 3 meter high balcony in the tiniest dress ever, Yuri thought. This better be one hell of a party.

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