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carewyncromwell · 4 days

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Even though I don't see Careywn or Orion to be the jealous types, I think the most likely prompt I'd like to see is #18. And for Jacob and Duncan, #20 please.

Carion: "No, I can't be polite to them if they're treating you like you were just there to please them."

The British and Irish Quidditch League had their fair share of players that had become celebrities. Gregory Cotton of the Appleby Arrows was often featured in the Daily Prophet for antagonizing fellow players; Gwenog Jones was legendary as captain of the all-female team the Holyhead Harpies; hell, the entire Parkin family and their role in the Wigtown Wanderers made them something of Quidditch royalty. And then of course there was the League's unofficial representative to the Ministry of Magic immediately post-War and Star Captain of the Montrose Magpies, Orion Amari.

Orion was -- quite frankly -- almost destined to have a fanclub. He was definitely eccentric and far more interested in playing Quidditch than in schmoozing or socializing, but that didn't change the fact that he was handsome, level-headed, witty, clever, and prodigy-level talented at Quidditch. He was also the father of a young daughter, Eos: a trait that more than a few female fans just made Orion all the more endearing.

Because of all this, though, it was not surprising that more than once, Orion had had his fair share of love-bombing from fans after his Quidditch matches. After one particularly difficult match against the Tutshill Tornados, he ended up surrounded by a screaming crowd as soon as he'd landed, largely made up of crazed fans desperate to touch their favorite Quidditch star.

"Peace, friends -- " Orion tried to soothe them as best as he was able, even as he tried not to flinch at the sheer amount of noise. "Ah...yes, this -- was a victory for us and for all -- thank you -- "

"Marry me, Orion!" screamed one girl.

Many other fans echoed this or otherwise squealed excitedly. Orion was pushed this way and that, but he kept his composure as best as he was able, keeping his best calm smile on even as dozens of hands patted and grabbed at his hair, clothes, and arms.

"I and my teammates appreciate your support -- " he tried to soothe them again as he weaved through.

The Captain's expression flickered noticeably when he felt a hand grab at his arse -- by the time he'd turned around, though, whatever fan had done it had disappeared into the giggling gaggle behind him.

"CLEAR OUT AND LET HIM THROUGH!" a voice burst out seemingly out of nowhere.

The crowd let out startled and offended outbursts as someone shoved their way through to Orion, their wand aloft and their short ginger hair flapping in the wind.

"Brainless things -- " Carewyn Cromwell muttered sourly before saying much more loudly, "I said clear out! For goodness's sake, he's a person, not a cardboard cut-out you can drool over! Find some dignity!"

She threw out a hand and seized Orion's arm, escorting him out even while keeping her wand pointed threateningly at the devolving crowd of mumbling, miffed fans.

Orion cocked his eyebrows at his other half.

"Be gentle with them, my dear," he said soothingly. "They are young and excitable...I'm certain no harm was meant."

"I don't care if it was or not, they were out of line," Carewyn said, visibly steaming. "They were completely violating your boundaries and disrespecting you as a player, as a subject of their admiration -- even just as a person. I know I'm not the sort to get titillated like that in general, but that doesn't give them the right to just -- grab at you like you're some Christmas meal they're determined to devour -- "

"Yes, little Firecrab," Orion said soothingly, "but my fans are not worth your fire. Quidditch matches are prone to overdramatic emotions...it's par the course that we players have chosen to fly, when we go professional. They would have broken apart on their own soon enough."

Carewyn glanced at Orion over her shoulder. Then, with a heavy sigh, she adjusted her grip on his arm so that she was holding his forearm in both of her hands.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "I don't dislike your fans...but I can't be polite to them if they're treating you like you're just there to please them."

"I understand," said Orion gently. "And I thank you for your valiant rescue."

He leaned in to place a light kiss to her forehead. Carewyn smiled slightly despite herself as she placed her cheek beside Orion's shoulder.

"You did wonderfully," she murmured as they walked across the pitch together. "That goal you scored with your head was absolutely brilliant."

Orion beamed. "I credit Maddock for our lively conversation last month about Muggle football."

x~x~x~x

Jacashe: "For the last time, I'm not jealous! But I want to be the only one who looks into your eyes and holds your hand and hears your laugh. Is that too much to ask for?"

(set in the Haunted Mansion AU)

Paranormal investigating wasn't always glamorous. There was certainly a mystique to it for some people, and Duncan was more than used to strangers perking up a bit upon learning his name just because it was well-known enough, but that didn't mean that it was easy. Nor had it ever made it easy for him to score a date -- if nothing else, on those few occasions he even considered going out with a guy for a drink back in the day, Duncan often found himself distracted by a wayward ghost or two along the way, since so much of his travels brought him into haunted areas.

The dating sphere became even stranger for Duncan, though, after he met the likes of Jacob Cromwell. Because truthfully, Duncan was very fond of Jacob -- fonder than he knew he really should be, considering Jacob had been dead for nearly two hundred years. But that didn't mean that Duncan didn't still have physical urges -- and quite frankly the paranormal investigator didn't know how to address such things tactfully with his ghostly partner. After all, one could presume that Jacob couldn't feel anything sexually for Duncan without a body. Even if he could, Jacob could only partially materialize thanks to Madame Olivia's constant chanting, and mainly at night, so any physical contact between them would always be muted. However much Jacob had made his intentions to court Duncan clear and however much Duncan himself was deeply attracted to Jacob, Duncan knew there were real obstacles to the two of them being anything serious.

Jacob, however, was stubborn. However many issues Duncan saw in the way of them being a couple, Jacob had latched onto Duncan and he was determined to do everything he could to be anything and everything Duncan needed. And so when Jacob learned that Duncan had agreed to go out for drinks with another guy in downtown Atlanta one September night, the ghost was not happy.

"I'll be back in the morning, Jacob," Duncan said irritably, "there's no need to be jealous."

"I'm not jealous!" said Jacob, bewildered and upset. "It just doesn't make any sense is all! Why bother going with him, I mean, we can more than go out for drinks! We go out for drinks plenty! Sure, I don't drink anything, but that's fine! Cheaper all the way around, I'd say -- reckon we'd have better conversation too, unless he's recently gotten around to studying vaccines of the 20th century -- "

"It's not -- just about conversation, Jacob," Duncan said stiffly.

"Aye, sure, but I reckon I've still got to be better company -- I know you a hell of a lot better than he does!"

Duncan's stomach squirmed uncomfortably. "You said you intended to court me, Jacob -- that doesn't mean we're exclusive -- "

"I know that!" said Jacob hotly. "I'm just trying to figure out what in the nine circles of Hell that perfect stranger has that I can't give you!"

"A warm body, perhaps?!" Duncan shot back harshly.

Jacob faltered. His ghostly form flickered like a candle.

Duncan regretted the outburst at once -- he immediately went quiet, all of the color leaving his face.

"...I...Jacob, I'm sorry -- I'm..."

Jacob didn't look at him. His head was bowed and he stared down at his quasi-corporeal, gray-tinted hands.

"It's...okay, Ashe," he said after a moment, in a voice so quiet it was akin to the wind. "I just...lost sight, is all. I am prone to do that, I've heard -- old Blaise used to always say so. See things as I want them to be -- not as they really are..."

His ghostly form was slowly fading away. This sight made Duncan's heart leap up into his throat.

"Jacob -- !"

Before he could stop himself, he tried to grab Jacob's hand, only for his hand to pass right through him.

"Jacob, please, no -- please don't disappear, please stay -- I didn't -- I mean..."

Duncan swallowed, trying desperately to force down the lump that had cropped up in his throat.

"Jacob, I want you here," Duncan said in a very strained voice. "I want...you...more than I've ever wanted anyone. I want you in ways I can't have you."

Jacob looked up. His face was nearly all faded away, but his surprise was clear.

"I just..." Duncan flushed in both embarrassment and shame, "...don't know how to handle the wanting, on my own. And I didn't know how to talk to you about it when...well, you're dead." His eyes darkened. "...I'm sorry, Jacob -- I wasn't trying to make you jealous, I only..."

"For the last time, I'm not jealous," Jacob said, and although his defensiveness was audible, he sounded more irritable than hostile. "It's just..."

Duncan exhaled in relief seeing Jacob slowly re-materializing again. After a moment, Jacob looked up into Duncan's eyes, his own blazing with ethereal light blue.

"...I want...to be the only one," he murmured. "The one who looks into your eyes and holds your hand and hears your laugh. ...The one who makes you happy."

Jacob reached out to take Duncan's hand. It was so cold and lacking of a pulse, and there was this vague barrier there, as if Duncan was feeling a plastic doll's hand through Saran wrap, but the gesture still made Duncan's heart skip a beat.

"...Is that too much to ask for?" Jacob asked weakly at last.

Duncan looked at Jacob for a very long moment. Then, very tentatively, he reached out a hand and found Jacob's face. Silently relieved when he successfully made contact with Jacob's cold, translucent cheek, the paranormal investigator then hesitantly leaned in to place a kiss to the ghost's lips. The kiss was freezing and numbing and left Duncan lightheaded, but when Jacob passionately kissed him back, none of that mattered. It felt wonderful and liberating and happy.

When Duncan finally had to break off and catch his breath, he was smiling fully.

"No, it's not," he murmured beside Jacob's lips.

Jacob looked happier than a kid at Christmas. He sighed, resting his translucent head on Duncan's shoulder -- the contact made Duncan flinch the way he would in response to a cold winter wind, but he also found his smile becoming more of a smirk as he watched his ghostly lover relax.

"You realize that if we're going to be exclusive, though, my standards are going to be even higher," Duncan said coolly.

Jacob grinned so brightly that his eyes gleamed like surreal light blue traffic lights. "I'll work hard to meet them! Maybe when we get back to the Manor, I can hunt down Mum's old ring for you..."

Duncan was so startled that his face flushed. "Ring?"

Jacob suddenly looked sheepish. "Aye, well, as much as marriage is kind of off the table for us, if we're to be exclusive, I'd like to make that clear! I want everyone to know!" He offered a more cheerful smile. "Mum's ring is gold, so it won't tarnish, and even if it's small, I could get it resized to fit you. And it's got pink topaz in-laid into the rim! That'd be your gemstone, wouldn't it?"

"Oh, uh...yeah, I...guess it would..."

Duncan felt his blush darkening to a tomato-like scarlet, even as his smirk spread like a satisfied Cheshire Cat's.

His and Jacob's relationship was odd and had its fair share of difficulties -- but it was remarkable how that idiot could make him feel like he was on cloud nine, with seemingly so little effort.

Jealousy Prompts!

#hphm #my writing #carewyn cromwell #orion amari #jacob cromwell #duncan ashe #haunted mansion #jealousy prompts

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elkkiel · 2 months

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You are welcome for the discussion <3 im just always glad to see st fans who are mature about sexual topics, and sometimes ill see stuff that makes me feel unwelcome as someone who reallyyy loves the sex appeal in the band/their music and it being a big factor of my appreciation of them. Im not actually offended at all by the term baby making metal and i get surprised by the vitriol people have towards the term. Art can be sexual but also be meaningful in manyyy different ways, i can appreciate the many layers of the music and ves's emotional vulberability in his art while also not acting like hes an infant who accidentally put sensuality in his music yknow (emphasis on SOME of the music, no im not saying atlantic or blood sport is sexy because just no)? I just feel like with how much personal attachment people have to the band (because yeah the music is SAD and ves has obviously been through awful things so i get being protective or being legit triggered by peoples hornier interpretations) things can get out of hand quickly in spaces ive observed in the fandom. Though perhaps ive just observed particularly bad places in the fandom in all fairness, im pretty new here and all having been listening to them for 2-3 months now. Tumblr doesnt seem too bad but ive seen stuff on twit that really angered me with the insults being thrown around and stuff that honestly seems infantilizing to ves (no, dont sexually harass him. Ive seen vids where people screamed "daddy" at him and.. ew. But like, i doubt hes offended by people having hornier interpretations on various songs as long as you dont get downright absurd and weird about whatever hes been through irl). Im rambling but i have Many Thoughts, genuinely didnt mean to have a long discussion but oops it happened. Thank you for discussing with me, kissing you on the mouth too (if youre cool with it of course lol)

If we're all in horny jail, Vess is the warden lol. Like he's the king of sexy fanservice and we're all just here soaking it in (darling? I think we've saturated 😳). To clarify my earlier answer, I loooooove me the sex appeal side of the music. It's just not why I'm a fan, if that makes sense. I'd be no more or less into them if Vess was fully clothed and decided to wear underwear for once (but I'm definitely not complaining about his current... attire loooool. don't search anything related to II on my blog it's embarrassing and I would be a total hypocrite to say that all sexualization is wrong.) It's totally normal to associate the music with sexuality considering, ya know, like a good chunk of his discography is sensual in some way. Bro literally wrote a song about vore as a romantic metaphor. If anything, it's a little unusual to insist that the music isn't sexual.

I'm not annoyed by any of the thirsting on a general level, just when that's people's only takeaway from the music (again, I would be incredibly hypocritical to take a hard oppositional stance lmao). But, that's also my personal opinion and not an objective judgement. I can't expect everyone that heard the summoning on tiktok to deep dive into the lore and discography, so baby making metal is just the only impression some people have lol. And that is okay no matter how I personally feel about it.

It's one thing to be a little miffed about booktok claiming Vess as their sex icon (referring to the reasons in the last ask), it's another thing to get huffy on his behalf about things that YOU'RE uncomfortable with. It's something that twitter fandoms overall seem to really struggle with. They're adults; if they were uncomfortable with contextually-appropriate thirsting, they can assert that boundary themselves. Again, I was in the dream smp fandom on twitter since 2020—the aggression with enforcing boundaries on the person they're a fan of is super unnecessary and, if anything, totally disrespectful as well.

In my experience, the Tumblr community tends to be a little older on average, so the discussion here is generally more mature and level-headed. Obviously you'll get a few dickheads in the bunch, but everyone here is pretty chill even if they disagree. The ability to articulate your thoughts in long-form text posts makes for a more rational medium for discussion imo. Honestly, twitter is a bit of a waste of time if you're looking for a positive, proper fandom experience. It's a platform optimized for rage engagement and echo chamber discussion, neither of which make for positive community building.

I'm starting to ramble and lose the plot a bit too lol. Also I am down to make out anytime anywhere. I'll bring the water bottles if you bring the toothpaste (nothing more intimate than scrub-a-dub-dubbing the chompers pre-smooch sesh 😘🩷)

#im gently caressing the folds of your wrinkly ass brain and placing the softest lil kiss on your brain stem #the neurodivergent urge to overexplain every single idea you want to share lol #elkkie is an opinionated little shit #<- new tag lets goooo #askkiel #anon.ask

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witchofspades · 2 years

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Chinese Mythology: Say it with me, "Huli" Everyone: Huli Chinese Mythology: "Jing" Everyone: Jing Chinese Mythology: "Huli Jing" Everyone: KITSUNE Chinese Mythology: nO!

#I am #a smidge salty #The comic repeats it constantly #like legit its on so many pages #why is this so impossible to remember #Im #h #also the like #refusal to remember Wan Ji's chinese name even though its used almost all the time #but remembering Saria even tho its been used like...3 times?#like ya'll ain't even tryna hide it #lord #vent #sry #again im just #miffed at the level of disrespect #the name thing i can almost forgive cause it IS one of her legitamate names but good lord #its sus af

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smerzbeliever · 2 years

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Okay lets get into this guys. Bc im struggling in a relationship. We both do love each other but have some major differences. At what point is it not acceptable anymore to be with the other person? Also what do yall mean when u say u cant chose who you love

ok if i'm being fully honest that other anon was a little bit on one and i didn't fully grasp what was going on but i liked the vibe. and idk ive only ever been in one relationship and am still in it 6 years later so i don't think i'm in a position to like make blanket statements abt relationships in general but first i think differences are good because variety is the spice of life. and i think it's normal to like. get mad and sometimes feel general resentment towards your partner because that's inevitable in any long term human relationship romantic or not like with parents friends whatever sometimes you feel hatred because emotions are unpredictable and not always logical.. but i would venture that one big difference is frequency of actual fighting and like how much it has an emotional toll on you. like my bf and i rarely if ever get into Fight Mode like we have tiffs and then resolve them or move on from them after we cool down and like neither of us are ever blatantly disrespectful of the other, whatever the argument is about it stays about that and doesn't broaden at least not out loud. like the other day without asking i opened a bottle of wine that he found at work and brought home bc to me it's just another bottle of wine and he doesn't even really like wine but he got miffed because the seal on that specific bottle felt special to him and he wanted to open it and in that moment in my head i was like omg what a baby but then i just stopped caring the next day because ultimately it's minor and ppl have a right to be different and assign value to different things. i think if overall the relationship has a net positive on your quality of life and the health of your soul then by all means stay in it because relationships are gonna be hard. but im curious what the "differences" are that you're describing. bc like in my case i respect and admire my bf on a foundational level like his values and his outlook etc and i don't think i would still be with him if there were huge ideological differences like if he were a libertarian or something or if he were a combative aggressive type we never would have even dated. our differences tend to be like, he's more of a homebody, he's more risk averse while im more sensation seeking, he doesn't like to have the ac on and i do, i'm more messy and he's more tidy, little things that ultimately don't cause huge clashes but sometimes can be frustrating and kind of inflate themselves in the moment to the point where i'm like omg i wanna smash you with hammers but then it passes. but we both value harmony and kindness and like don't go out of our way to pick fights and that restraint has done a lot for us i think. so i would say as an uneducated nobody that the point of no return is when you lose the fundamental mutual respect and admiration or find that your values or lifestyles have irreconcilable differences that cause you actual misery. like if you're getting into fights where actual mean personal attacks are getting thrown around i don't think that's acceptable anymore because if you truly respect someone and don't want to cause them harm you bite your tongue. i'm also not trying to brag about my relationship i hope that's not how this comes off i'm just speaking from the only experience i have lol. anyway i know that was kind of all over the place idk if it was helpful at all but whatever happens i hope things improve ❤️

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cinna-wanroll · 4 years

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Obi-Wan & Mace Headcanons

1. Yoda absolutely used to babysit Obi-Wan all the time and no one can tell me any different. And since Mace is 18 years older than Obi-Wan, I think that sometimes if Yoda had to go do something but Obi-Wan wanted to practice something, Mace and Obi would train together.

When Obi-Wan is about ten, Yoda introduces them and then rushes off to do some important business, giving Mace some odd look he can’t quite decipher.

Even though Mace doesn’t really like kids, he knows this is somehow a test so he shuts up and hangs out with this kid that Yoda has taken an interest in for Force only knows why.

Mace is a little bewildered by this odd little padawan who’s always curious and constantly getting himself into trouble, but he sticks around just to insure Obi-Wan’s antics don’t get too extreme.

And eventually, the two bond a little and learn to have a mutual respect for one another.

When Obi-Wan becomes apprentice to Qui-Gon Mace feels a bit more prepared and a bit more open to taking on a padawan of his own, thus taking on Bultar Swan not long after.

2. Obi-Wan ad Mace’s views don’t often align, but when they do the council knows it must be right.

Where Obi-Wan is undoubtedly one of the most compassionate and level-headed masters in the order, he is hesitant to take aggressive moves where Mace won’t hesitate to strike swiftly and at the head of the problem.

Because of this, the two often debate in the council chambers, with Mace growing a little miffed at Obi-Wan’s hesitant nature.

But on occasions where both Obi-Wan and Mace can agree on the best steps to take, it’s rare for anyone to object the course of action.

This is also why Obi-Wan makes such a surprised face when Mace gives the droids a second chance on Anaxes: it’s definitely not in Mace’s nature. And while it is a bit of a tease to Obi-Wan, it’s also Mace showing his admiration for him.

3. Mace was one of the people who fought to get Obi-Wan on the council. While some of the other masters were hesitant to put a master who seemed to always be surrounded by chaos and disaster, Mace was a supporter through and through, pointing out that Obi works hard and seems to be surrounded by negative events because he gets to the bottom of the most important issues.

When the council decides to give the okay, Mace and Yoda go to deliver the invitation personally.

4. Mace has a serious fine arts obsession, so sometimes he and Obi-Wan will send one another pieces of cultural works from wherever they’re at. If Obi-Wan sees a classic play, he’ll take a quick holo and send it, or if Mace sees a new modern tapestry he’ll do the same. It’s a great way to communicate the positives of their situation, or to at least make the best of it, and also a great way for the two of them to spark conversations when they’re bored waiting for reinforcements to arrive.

5. Mace is a great inspiration to Obi-Wan in many ways, but also in the language department. Mace is a master linguist due to preforming in many foreign theaters and musicals as a younger Jedi, and gives Obi-Wan tips on learning new ones.

6. Mace will absolutely judge you if you talk bad about Obi-Wan. He has a massive respect for him and will view you as disrespectful and ungrateful if you dis him. Disagreeing with him is one thing, and it’s something Mace does himself, but insulting him or his lineage is something that really annoys Mace. Especially since Mace has always been so close to Yoda, anyone who talks ill about Yoda’s lineage being tainted by Dooku and Xanatos will get glares x100 by Mace.

#mace windu #obi wan kenobi #wacky headcanons #star wars #tcw #yoda #jedi order

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otnesse · 3 years

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Rewriting breakout villains, a comparison between Maleficent and Broly.

As you can see with the title and above meme, the subject will be about the rewriting of breakout, runaway-popularity characters, in this case, villains, and a comparison between two in particular. Maleficent, the main villain of Disney's Sleeping Beauty, and in particular her depiction in the 2014 film "Maleficent", and Broly, the main antagonist of the Broly Saga of Dragon Ball Z movies (Dragon Ball Z: Broly - The Legendary Super Saiyan; Dragon Ball Z: Broly - Second Coming, and technically Dragon Ball Z: Bio-Broly), and his depiction in Dragon Ball Super: Broly, which formally introduced him into canon. As you can see with the meme, I had no problems with Broly's rewriting, and viewed it as a rewrite that was done right, while with Maleficent, it was a terrible job that if anything ruined the character. I'll elaborate on how exactly they were almost polar opposites in terms of quality.

For starters, we get into what the characters were like. For Maleficent, her original depiction was essentially meant to be pure evil incarnate. She ended up cursing an infant with a death curse (or at least, she fully intended for it to be a death curse, and only got toned down to merely land said infant into a magically-induced coma by one of the three good fairies after Maleficent had already fled the area), at best due to being miffed at her being rejected from the coronation ceremony for Aurora, at worst simply for a sheer laugh that she would have accomplished even if she HAD been invited based on what she said to Queen Leah just prior to cursing Aurora. One scene even implied she planned to have Aurora prick her finger well before the sunset on her sixteenth birthday. She had no redeemable traits at all, nor did she have any sympathetic qualities by any means (not even Diablo, especially when it looked more like she just discarded him when he was no longer of use when he got petrified rather than actually being horrified by his petrification), nor even a sympathetic backstory either. Making her an up and out good guy really doesn't work by any stretch. Even Angelina Jolie, the woman who not only played the character for that movie, but also the producer for said movie, agreed that making Maleficent into a hero was not a good idea and made attempts to prevent Linda Woolverton from making her nice (she failed, obviously, but at least she made an effort to stop it). Heck, she didn't even retain her most famous, or rather, infamous ability to transform into a Dragon. To sum it up, Maleficent was made into a "hero" in a manner that was completely disrespectful to her debut film, and even to her roots at that.

Broly by contrast, while he was depicted as a really villainous character in the original movie as well as its sequels, taking the Saiyan bloodlust to more extreme levels, he at least had an actual excuse for his behavior that makes him surprisingly tragic ultimately: In particular, he had been stabbed on King Vegeta's orders when he was barely a day old simply because the king, a'la King Herod, was paranoid that Broly's power level of 10,000 would have had him try to overthrow the royal family if left unchecked. Then he had to get a first hand glimpse of Frieza's genocide of the Saiyan race when he blew up the planet, of which his innate powers were the only reason Broly and his father Paragus (who had been sentenced to be executed simply for disagreeing with King Vegeta's execution order, and in fact, King Vegeta personally carried out the sentence himself) survived. Largely thanks to that, as well as him not really learning how to control his innate power, he was ultimately driven insane as he grew up, becoming more reckless and destructive, entering manic frenzies (with one flashback even implying he suffered from a split personality disorder), which ultimately forced Paragus to put Broly under mind control, which ultimately resulted in Paragus himself becoming drunk with Broly's power and deciding to lure Vegeta into a trap by using Broly to blow up the south galaxy, with Broly after breaking out of his control and really giving the Z-Fighters the fight of their lives to stop him ultimately ended up committing patricide when his father opted to ditch him to Comet Camori, that and possibly revenge for being put under mind control. Oh, and he ended up having a Jungian archetype in his head from the worst birth day anyone could possibly have had, Kakarot, aka Goku, since he was crying around the same time Broly was nearly killed, meaning that, thanks partly to what was likely PTSD on his part, he ended up blaming Goku for his nearly being killed and had an intense hatred for him. And thanks to suffering his first defeat at Goku's hands, his already-weak grasp on reality was broken even further, leaving him incapable of differentiating Goku from his various sons. One side story, included in Supersonic Warriors 2, involved Broly getting amnesia from the aforementioned defeat, literally only knowing his name was Broly, and ended up becoming fast friends with Hercule. He eventually regains his memories when encountering Goku, and nearly relapses, although Mr. Satan managed to talk him out of it, causing him to become good. That whole thing hinted that even Broly probably would have turned out good had he not suffered from those turmulous events of his birth. His rewrite in Dragon Ball Super: Broly if anything was very similar to his role in that sidequest. I'll also note that Broly in that film avoided having the circumstances that occurred in his debut film (namely, he was merely exiled to a death planet named Vampa at King Vegeta's order, and thus was not only NOT executed for his power level, but he was never even on Planet Vegeta when it exploded, so he did have a chance at retaining his sanity ultimately). Oh yeah, and they still had him retain his famous Legendary Super Saiyan state. Long story short, he was rewritten to be a good guy while at the same time they STILL respected his roots and his debut film, and a side story as well.

Then we get into how they treated characters other than the title characters themselves in comparison to the title protagonist. With Maleficent, in order to make her the firm good guy, all the good characters from the original film barring Aurora herself were up and out demonized (namely, King Stefan was depicted as being the reason Maleficent became a villain in a rather tasteless allegory to date rape as well as a psychopath, the three good fairies were made into annoying twits and arguable Quislings, and Phillip ends up not having ANY love for Aurora at all).

Broly by contrast, didn't have the other characters being demonized just to make Broly look good. Even with King Vegeta and Paragus, their actions were if anything toned down from the original film (the former, as aforementioned, merely exiled Broly to Vampa rather than ordering for his execution, and it's also implied he was more doing it out of concern for his son Vegeta's well-being in that case, while Movie 8 gave the impression it was mostly to remain secure in his being able to rule over the Saiyans. Heck, he merely let Paragus go after Broly's spaceship instead of executing him on the spot unlike in Movie 8. As far as Paragus, while he DID implement a shock collar on Broly to make him behave and was a tad bit more ruthless towards him, he at least let him retain his free will compared to in the movie, not to mention did not use Broly to commit mass destruction on an entire galaxy. And in complete contrast to Movie 8 where he, albeit reluctantly, attempted to leave Broly to die after he lost control, Paragus in the Super Broly movie began to regret his treatment of Broly during a similar situation and even went as far as to beg Frieza to save his son. Oh, and Paragus ended up killed... not by Broly (who if anything retained his love for his father unlike his original self), but by Frieza all to bait Broly into becoming Super Saiyan.). Not to mention Goku and Vegeta weren't demonized either. They were merely trying to stop Frieza from gaining the Dragon Balls, and Broly and Paragus happened to be in the way. Heck, in Goku's case, he even attempted to quell Broly from fighting them, and was nearly successful until he made the mistake of calling his father a bad guy in front of him (not to mention Broly having an uncontrollable surge in power around the same time). Even when they DID try to kill Broly later on, it was only because it seemed to be the only way to stop him due to his growing too insane from grief over his father's untimely demise to have any self-restraint and his actions nearly destroying Earth otherwise. The only character who was actually demonized was Frieza, who was directly responsible for Broly's rampage for most of the film, which is practically par the course for Dragon Ball anyways since he IS one of the series' most infamous villains, and even he was slightly toned down compared to usual.

When I first heard Toriyama not only was going to make another Broly film (a rewrite in this case), but give a different side to him, I did get concerned initially largely because I feared that he would have done something similar to what that hack Linda Woolverton did when she rewrote Maleficent. Since it came out, however, I can safely say my concerns were ultimately unwarranted.

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britishchick09 · 3 years

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i read the google books preview of ‘phantom of manhattan’ last night and was left utterly confused and very angy... not angry, but nearly so! miffed to the core, i should say. to restore clear skies in my mind...

LET’S TALK ABOUT IT

first off... the preface

OH BOY THE PREFACE

i hated how fredrick forsyth completely disrespected gaston leroux and said he was wrong ABOUT HIS OWN STORY/CHARACTERS. leroux knew his characters best, not you fred! i think of my poto rewrite as canon in my own story universe, but i know that leroux’s version is the absolute canon and respect his version of the story way more than fred and alw!

and totally hated on the persian! but he praised his buddy alw’s version of the story and said it was the correct one (even though frederick claimed 1893 was the correct date and his buddy’s version is in ‘81 which he said was wrong)! not cool frederick forbish! >:(

but then i got to the actual story and this is where the confusing part comes in! there’s a super long string of dialogue in chapter one and even though it’s easy to see who’s speaking (madame giry and the father guy), it would’ve been nice to have a little ‘madame giry sighed painfully before continuing’ or a ‘the father asked’ here and there

once all the exposition is done, we cut to erik’s perspective, which you’d think would be cool! :D

...but it’s not :/

first of all erik’s last name is MURLHEIM? it’s german and i think it’s meant to resemble ‘manhattan’ in a way? but erik murlheim sounds more like an old guy with a fluffy beard instead of the phantom! :o

anyways erik... murlhiem starts every morning by looking out of the window of his penthouse (which he probably bought from asoue’s jerome and esme lol) and thinking, ‘i hate the human race’ which is a total grinch move. next thing you know’ he’s gonna steal all the prizes at coney island! ;)

after his voyage to new york, he doesn’t wear his mask and keeps it in his clothes? he’d probably be a bit warmer with it on and people might scream when they see him! but he says that no one took notice of him so does that mean new yorkers look worse?

a group of immigrants call him ‘frenchie’ (the only good part of the story so far) and then erik dons a clown mask and- OH SNAP HE’S GONNA TURN INTO A KILLER CLOWN :o

the preview ended there and i’m glad it did because that was the cringiest poto story i’ve read! i thought susan kay’s ‘phantom’ was creepy with all it’s wtf moments, but this is a level of cringe that adds total disrespect to gaston leroux! i thought ‘love never dies’ was ok, but it looks amazing compared to the source material!

oh why can’t there be a good poto sequel? :(

#this book sure is... something!#a very angy something >:(#and i won't be reading more of it anytime soon #i'd rather watch raoul and meg in lnd than do that! (and i didn't like them at all!) :o #also rhett and link in the gif tho... ;)

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hiddenleafstoryteller · 5 years

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Which characters in Naruto are the most jealous in a relationship? I would like to hear your thoughts 😊

Ahh yes some analysis 😎 My obsession with astrology and basic profiling shall shine through😅

Thanks for the request anon🥰 I spent hours on this and hope y’all enjoy!!

Most Jelaous

Kiba

Kiba is territorial and when anyone so happens as to get to close to what he views as his, jealously is bound to flow. He’s a Cancer, emotions are something he has a lot of and he sometimes doesn’t know how to process them in a healthy way, therefore come the jealous outbursts. He once tried to fight Naruto because Naruto complimented your haircut.

Kiba is the poster boy for, “I trust you, but it’s them I don’t trust.” & if you’re out in public he will always be touching you, holding hands, an arm around your shoulders or waist. He’s proud of you and wants everyone to see how amazing you are, but hands off

Neji

Neji is interesting to think about in terms of jealously. Some of you may read this and go, “Neji?? Number 2 on the jealously list? You’ve lost your damn mind Storyteller!” And while you are correct, let me explain.

Homeboy is a C A N C E R, you can’t tell me that Edgy Neji™️ doesn’t FEEL. Neji l encounters jealousy, however, is skilled at hiding it. He gets jealous so easily but he doesn’t regularly tell others when he’s starting to get jealous, but if he does happen to open up to you about it, you’re in for a show.

He would be the type of boyfriend that would only say something if he thought you were uncomfortable or if the person was being to aggressive in their flirting.

Sasuke

Sasuke is a fickle lil’ Leo who is also good at hiding his jealously BUT something that turns his jealousy switch is the point at which their s/o focuses on someone or something different more than them. Sasuke’s Jealousy is usually based in feeling inferior to someone (you’ve heard of daddy issues? He’s got big bro issues), and if he feels that his S/O regards someone on a higher level than they do with him? Oof it pushes his buttons!

Naruto

Our favorite Libra (besides myself, of course) is honestly so used to things leaving (ugh sad reacts only) that the idea of someone trying to steal his S/O makes him rage!

The good news is that he will always trust his S/O wholeheartedly, he gives them space but he is not afraid to insert him into a conversation between them and whoever is trying to get to them!

He’d be type to kiss you in front of everyone just to get his competition riled up, and sometimes can get TMI with his talks about you just to provoke a reaction from whoever was trying to flirt with you.

Lee

At first, I didn’t think Lee would rank this high but upon further inspection I think spot number 5 is a good spot for bushy brows himself. Lee is very familiar with the feeling of jealousy & envy, they are two of his main motivations in his becoming of the best shinobi he can be.

If he feels that his relationship is being threatened by an outside party, he’ll use it as motivation to work harder in the relationship. The outside party is now his rival and he wants to come out on top.

Sakura

We all know Sakura can be pretty easy to become jealous. If she felt that her S/O was being pursued by someone else she would be more than a little miffed. She’s an Aries, she would honestly attempt to destroy anyone who tried to disturb her relationship.

Sakura will not sit there when feeling threatened, she will have a discussion with the person she’s jealous of, informing them their partner is taken. With the S/O, she will argue and say everything that bothers her.

Choji

Choji is the true neutral of this list, he experiences jealously but he also knows how to handle it in a mature way.

He doesn’t feel threatened by someone flirting with his S/O until the person goes over the line or he thinks his S/O might be enjoying it.

As an Taurus, I feel that Choji is incredibly level headed, he wouldn’t jump to conclusions but would form opinions based on evidence.

Ino

Ino is a BAMF and knows it. She practically floats above everything, she has the upmost confidence in her S/O and their relationship.

But

If the jealously switch is flipped, it is FLIPPED. She is a Libra after all, if the scales aren’t balanced she isn’t feeling it. Having someone consistently flirting with her S/O would really start to get to her

Hinata

This pure lil’ cinnamon roll tries her best to not become jealous, but sometimes something gets right under her skin.

She trusts her partner 110%, and would never accuse them of being disloyal.

She would, however, fully kick another persons ass who tried to overly pursue her S/O.

She is a Capricorn who get jealous when their S/O disrespects the sanctity of their partnership, even slightly. Her S/O flirting with someone would throw over the edge incredibly quickly.

Shikamaru

I don’t think Shikamaru really has the time or energy to develop a serious case of jealousy.

The thing with Shika is that he is incredibly doubtful. He questions everyone’s intentions, including his own. It doesn’t matter how positive and sure things are in the relationship, Shikamaru will panic when they will start to overthink.

Shino

Literally doesn’t have a jealous bone (bug?) in his body, and is often unbothered by other people’s advances towards you. He knows that you love him and he loves you, and that is enough for him.

However, if he does start to feel that someone is pushing their boundaries he would be straight up with you and not beat around the bush.

Tenten

My baby Tenten is the least bothered and it takes a hell of a lot to get her bothered

If she does end up noticing somthing she doesn’t like, she’ll mull it over until she’s alone with her S/O and give them an earful

Least Jealous

#naruto headcannons #shikamaru #ino #choji #kiba #hinata #naruto #sasuke #shino #neji #lee #tenten #sakura #konoha 12

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anthropologicalhands · 4 years

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fic: (un)acceptable losses ii

title: (un)acceptable losses characters: Hiei/Kurama summary: What’s an acceptable loss? Hiei and Kurama have different definitions, even if they can’t quite pin them down. chapters: 2/2 Ao3 Link

Sometimes, the best strategy really was to just think less.

Not that it helped that much, as Kurama still got thoroughly thrashed--though thankfully, no gut wounds that Hiei could harass him about. Mukuro didn’t know the meaning of holding back. And she liked Kurama. Then again, no one in their right mind could argue that she didn’t care for Hiei, and look what she’d done to him in the first Makai Tournament.

Speaking of Hiei…

Kurama had woken up to the sight of Hiei perched on a stool by his bed, looking like a rather large, miffed owl, apparently annoyed at Kurama for having the audacity to be hospitalized. Not that he said it in so many words. But even after Kurama’s injuries are deemed noncritical, Hiei doesn’t vanish, instead holding bandages and updating Kurama on the status of the other fighters.

From Hiei’s brief, colorful summations, Kurama learns that Kuwabara is in the middle of slugging it out with Jin and, though the odds are against him, continues to hold his own with great style. Meanwhile, Yusuke is still tearing through his opponents, though current bets put him on track to go against Enki, and it’s an open question of who would win that fight.

“That’s good to hear,” says Kurama. He’s still disappointed that he passed out after his fight with Mukuro--unconscious, he couldn’t persuade anyone that he was, in fact, fine and please bring him to the observation deck. “Thank you for checking up on me. You don’t have to stay if you want to return to watch the fights.”

“Like I have anywhere else to be,” Hiei balances on the soles of his feet on the stool’s improbable seat, arms crossed, staying upright against physics. He adds, “We can go watch the screens once you can actually move around. And you’re much better company than anyone in the stands.”

Hiei, unfortunately, had gotten knocked out in the first elimination block, after having the misfortune of drawing the same lot as Yomi and another one of Raizen’s old cohort. Not that Hiei didn’t put up a good fight; his dragon inflicted enough damage on Yomi to make him lose in his next round.

Kurama probably finds that whole situation much funnier than it should be. He might need to avoid Yomi for a little while, if he wants to keep a straight face during their next conversation. He’s sympathetic to Hiei’s annoyance at being finished so early in the tournament, but can’t say he regrets it.

“As you like.” Kurama is hardly going to complain about getting Hiei’s undivided attention to himself for a little longer, even if just looking at how he’s sitting on that stool makes Kurama’s back twinge in sympathy.

Besides, now that his head isn’t throbbing, Kurama has a couple of questions.

“Mukuro said something interesting to me at the end of our match,” he begins, casually, as if Mukuro had simply commented on the weather. Hiei’s head swivels to fix his eyes on Kurama, which really does no favors with the whole owl comparison, and Kurama has to bite his lip to avoid laughing too hard and potentially pulling his stitches.

“That better not be an euphemism,” drawls Hiei, his eyes narrowing. “What did you discuss?”

“I wouldn’t say we ‘discussed’ anything,” says Kurama, gingerly turning onto his less injured side to better face Hiei. “I was hardly coherent enough for that. It’s a pity, really--I would’ve thought my stamina was better than that.”

Hiei snorts. “Don’t write yourself off so quickly. You fought well--you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

High praise, coming from Hiei. Kurama can’t help smiling a little, charmed.

“I know, I meant it more as a statement of just what a remarkable opponent Mukuro is. I believe I told her so. I don’t remember my exact words--something along the lines that fighting her was an honor. She agreed, as I expected.”

She’d laughed at him, actually, not that Kurama particularly minded, as unconsciousness started to claim him. He had a vague sense that she moved forward, then, to catch him and sling his arm over her shoulder, keeping him upright until the medical team reached them.

“She would’ve liked that,” agrees Hiei.

“She also said that after fighting me, she was even more interested in witnessing a fight between the two of us. But then she said something odd.”

Hiei goes very still for a moment, and then immediately scoffs and looks away, which means he doesn’t want Kurama to comment on his stillness. So instead, Kurama waits patiently.

“And what was that?” Hiei asks, addressing the foot of the bed rather than Kurama himself.

“She seemed to indicate that you did not feel as positively about the prospect.”

“Mukuro said that?” Pure disbelief colors Hiei’s voice.

“Not exactly, but I was losing consciousness at that point, so I can’t recall the precise phrasing she used." It was probably much ruder. "Which is why I’m asking you now.”

“Asking what?”

So Hiei was going to be stubborn about this. Very well.

Kurama sighs. “Mukuro made it sound like you didn’t want to fight me. Is that true?”

“What does it matter?”

“It’s not. What I’m asking is if you’re interested in a fight with me, the way you are with Mukuro, or Yusuke. I’m certainly not as strong as either of them, but I’m sure I could give a good showing.”

“I’m not--” Hiei rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, Kurama. I know just how powerful you are.”

“That soothes my pride, at least. But you still don’t want to fight me?”

Hiei remains silent, which is an answer in and of itself. Ah, well. Kurama is not entirely surprised.

“...I don’t think a real fight is possible between us.”

The words sound like they are being dragged out of Hiei, and he shuffles on his stool, looking caught, like when Kurama or Yusuke tease him over Yukina. Except Kurama didn’t mean to set any traps.

“What do you mean?” he asks, sitting up more fully, wincing at how the fingers of bruising across his ribs abruptly grip tight, stealing his breath. Hiei is standing next to him, hands reach out and take his shoulders to help him lower back into the bed. He allows Hiei to do so, watching the other demon and how he avoids Kurama’s gaze as he returns to his stool.

“I know your strategies. You know mine.” Hiei tugs hard at his scarf, loosening it where it winds snugly around his neck. A nervous gesture, of sorts.

“Indeed.”

“Against a true opponent, I fight to my full strength.” He holds up his bandaged arm, and Kurama can feel the dragon pulse beneath the wards. Idly, he wonders how it would feel, to face the full force of its power; a beautiful and terrifying thing to witness as a spectator, how much more would it be, to face down the dragon as it descended upon him?

“Of course; I expect nothing less.” Kurama thinks he sees where this train of thought is going. He raises his eyebrows at Hiei in question, not that Hiei is looking at him to appreciate it. “You think I wouldn’t take you seriously as an opponent, Hiei? I wouldn’t disrespect your abilities like that.”

“Not that ,” says Hiei, irritated. “You take all of your fights seriously. You, in fact, have a very bad habit of taking most opponents too seriously, when one strike would be enough to finish them.”

“I don’t understand.”

Hiei looks like he would like to melt through the floor or self-combust rather than keep elaborating on this point. Kurama idly considers reminding Hiei that between the two of them, he’s the actual telepath, but doesn’t. Hiei is at least trying to put words to his feelings, and Kurama is interested to see where he goes.

“I don’t like to see you lose when you shouldn’t,” says Hiei, as if that explains everything. He’s blinking, eyes a little too bright.

“I know better than to fake anything with you,” says Kurama, a little sly, looking to break the mood. Predictably, Hiei goes bright pink.

“Now you are being ridiculous,” he snarls, and he really looks like an angry owl now, and Kurama cannot point out the resemblance or there’s a very probable chance that he will be dumped unceremoniously out of the bed. Instead, Kurama chews his tongue and waits until Hiei collects himself enough to continue.

“When you fight seriously, I don’t know what you’ll do yourself to win. You could finish the fight before it begins, if you were inclined to it.”

Kurama meets Hiei’s gaze evenly, and nods slowly, to show his attention. “And you think I would do that to you.”

Hiei shakes his head quickly. “No. I know you would meet me in the arena. But if you knew I wouldn’t hold back, I don’t know what you would do.” Frustration seeps through. “I never know what you’re willing to do to yourself to win.”

Kurama doesn’t offer an immediate response. Hiei’s demonstrations of affection are not and will never be calibrated at human levels. Kurama knows that because Hiei generally demonstrates something close to affection toward him. And, by Hiei levels, this is a lot.

And now, even though Hiei is putting on a show of very determinedly glaring at the foot of Kurama’s bed as though it offends him, he’s already stolen a few glances toward Kurama, trying to gauge his response. It’s almost painfully endearing.

“I think I understand,” continues Kurama thoughtfully. “You don’t think we can truly fight all out without one of us actually dying.”

Hiei just hunches in on himself, now resembling a vulture more than an owl, and crosses his arms tightly over his chest. Kurama doesn’t expect any more--considering how repressed Hiei usually is, he’s made himself clear.

What he hasn’t said, but Kurama very much suspects, is that Hiei isn’t sure of his own reaction to such a fight, how, if he saw Kurama on the verge of death, but still preparing for a final push, that he might not pull back. For Hiei, who lives to test his limits, pushing himself beyond the limits of the possible, the idea of holding back against a worthy opponent is anathema.

“Then, if I don’t want to win, you might reconsider?”

Hiei, again predictably, flares up. “If you even think of implying--”

“All I am implying,” Kurama raises his voice slightly, flattening Hiei’s protests to a mutter, “is that I could find a very clever way to lose to you and keep at least half of my blood in my body. I think those could be acceptable terms, don’t you?”

Hiei’s glare communicates, very efficiently, that I know you’re fucking with me right now, and I don’t appreciate it.

“That is not how a fighter should think,” grumbles Hiei.

“Perhaps not.” For all his teasing, Kurama does see Hiei’s point. A proper fight should be a zero-sum game: one victor, one defeated. “But partners do. They set rules, a few boundaries...I think we could find a way.”

“It would be an interesting training exercise, fox, but it’s not a true fight.”

“It’s not,” admits Kurama. “In that case, I’d have to say that I wouldn’t want to fight you, either. Thank you for helping me understand.”The surge of affection he feels for Hiei, in fact, is enough to make him reach over, and hook his fingers into Hiei’s cloak, and start pulling.

“Kurama!” Hiei flails, trying not to lose his balance. “What are you doing --”

“You’re making my back hurt, the way you’ve been sitting there. No one else is in the room--just sit on the bed.” He grasps Hiei’s shoulder with his other hand, seeking a better leverage.

“Kurama, this is not dignified--”

“Hiei, stop clawing at me, or you’ll reopen my wounds.”

It’s a low blow, but it works.

Hiei, cheeks still burning, allows himself to be maneuvered onto the bed. Kurama wasn’t kidding that he mostly wanted Hiei to stop looking so uncomfortable, but when he starts to shift away, Hiei throws out his opposite arm and lets it drape around Kurama, effectively trapping him where he is. Blinking, Kurama looks down at Hiei, whose face is still a brilliant pink.

“You win this time,” Hiei mutters, settling back against the pillows grudgingly, but lacking the tension that had been so prominent before.

Kurama laughs, and accepts his victory.

#yyh #yu yu hakusho #ellie writes fic #me trying to write through the idea that hiei wouldn't like to fight kurama #i might have dropkicked this out the door #bc the words were starting to spiral

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annoyinglyjovialbird · 4 years

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Voltron: Next Generation

Charging Ahead: II

Word Count: 2828

Cross-legged on the floor, Kova was fiddling with the hard drive of Allura knows what.

Cake and Allie were practicing with their Lions, asking for permission to leave the Coeus. They had been floating through space for days, while Kenny tried to shorten the journey to the Karthulian Star System. Of course, that was proving more difficult than it should have been. Griffin agreed to help, and it's been a few hours since anything had been heard from either of them. Caleb would've gone down to check, but he chose Cake and Allie preparing to leave as a priority.

The hard drive in Kova's hand was about as big as her hand, and a final puzzle piece. The hard drive was being harvested and installed into the screen on Kova's arm piece. Or rather, Griffin's arm piece, since the Green Lion was supposedly the most technologically advanced.

As the seconds ticked by, the signal bars on Kova's screen became stronger.

Back at the Garrison, it had been days since anyone had heard of the teams and Shiro. Commander Holt was frantic, raving about a grandson who was missing. Of course, no one knew what the old man was talking about until Matt stepped in. There was no way to confirm Kenneth's location unless someone on board the ship could make contact.

As I said, it had been days.

Curtis was in the conference room adjourned to the Colonel's office, sipping on a cup of peppermint tea.

Kova was counting on this. This was a ritual for the Shirogane couple before they started their day, whether the other was there or not.

Curtis was sipping his tea, with eyes closed as the projector came to life.

The project Kova had been working on was a small drone, reconfigured, and found in one of the trash bins in the engine room. There were so many of these.

"Hey, Pops." Kova only spared a glance at the terrified man's direction. To even say Curtis was terrified was an understatement. The hot tea in his mouth was spit out of his mouth in such a violent manner, he was bent over coughing up what remained onto the carpet. If he looked up and there was nothing there, he could chalk it up to hallucinations.

Of course, nothing is that simple.

Kova kept glancing at the man as he stared at her in disbelief.

"Kova?" Curtis whispered. "Is that you?"

"Last I checked." Kova's crass reply confirmed it. This was happening.

"How?" Curtis stared at the teen, who was fiddling with a hard drive in her hand. "Did you make a universal remote?"

"Sort of, yeah."

"How did you get the projector to work? It's a secure system."

"I hacked it, like, two years ago." This was his daughter.

"How are you?" Curtis's questions began. "Where are you? Do you need a rescue?" Kova looked up, cocking her head at the screen. She held up one finger, putting her handiwork in her lap.

"I'm fine," She held up a second finger. "We're in space." A third finger was raised. "No."

"You're going somewhere." Curtis finally saw what Kova was wearing. She would never wear that unless she was aware of a long journey.

A cobalt blue dress paired with black leggings, black combat boots, and a black sleeveless vest she had stolen from Shiro's closet. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face in a high ponytail, little wispies breaking free.

"Where are you going? I can send help."

"Pops." Curtis met Kova's eyes as best he could. "We don't need help. This is something we have to do." Curtis sighed. He leaned on the chair at the furthest end of the conference table.

"Okay, then." Curtis thought back to the panic the Holt family was in earlier that week. It was worth a shot. "Who's onboard?"

"My team, two-thirds of Caleb's team, Dad, and Kenny," Kova said the last name with such disdain, it was almost laughable.

"Kenny makes him sound Cyrus's age."

"He acted like it, so he gets to be called it." Kova had picked up her work and started it again in the middle of her sentence.

"Commander Holt was so worried about him."

"Oh, I'm sure."

"Please don't disrespect the Holts right now."

"They disrespected me first." Kova looked up. The flying Lions had caught her eye, but the MFE had her full attention. Where was Griffin again?

"Dad!" Caleb was yelling down the hallway. Curtis saw him walk into the doorway earlier and waved. His voice had Kova standing up.

"Pops, I gotta go."

"What's going on?"

"I have to go!" Standing too fast, Kova began muttering to herself, limping towards the doorway. Her foot had fallen asleep. With a vague wave, Kova was gone. A minute had passed when another figure appeared in the doorway.

With mid-parted white hair and a scar across the bridge of his nose, Curtis thought his husband was just as handsome as the day they met.

"Takashi."

"Curtis." Both men had lovesick smiles on their faces, staring at their partner with arrows piercing their hearts for the sudden separation.

"What's going on out there?"

"The Fire is back, stronger than ever." Shiro watched Curtis's blue eyes fill with shock, then dread at the information.

"I'm assuming Kova and Caleb know and haven't said a word."

"You assume correctly." Shiro sighed. He could see out the window at the teens.

"There is going to be a point where Kova has to face this head-on." Curtis watched his husband's face fall at his words. "We knew this was coming and she's prepared to fight. There's nothing else we can do."

Light years away, Shiro nodded. Kova and Caleb's bickering voices became louder the closer they came to the bridge, while Liz and Cake were trying to defuse the argument. Allie watched on in curiosity. Kenny, blocked by the bickering duo, tried retreating to the engine room. He was dragged to the bridge instead.

"Jet packs with green flames would be so cool!"

"And dangerous to our health!" Curtis watched the teens come in, rolling his eyes. He noticed the teens were wearing old paladin armor, thinking it strange since there were only five. Allie and Cake had bayards in their gloved hands, waiting for the bickering leaders to stop.

"Voltron?" Curtis's shocked voice had everyone's attention. Allie's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates while Cake held his bayard out. The bayard morphed into an energy cannon, which Cake seemed to just brush off as normal. His pupils narrowed into tiny dark slits against his yellow sclera. Curtis was worried that Cake might shoot until Kova barked something he couldn't understand.

"You could've told him." He heard Kova mutter to Shiro. Cake relaxed his grip on the bayard but didn't let go. Shiro was standing at the base of a platform. Kova was above him, leaning on a railing. Caleb was standing on a half-level below Kova, Liz was to Kova's left on the same level, and Cake and Allie were on the floor with Shiro. Kenny, try as he might, was trying to stand behind Kova at all times.

"We're looking for the other Voltron lions," Caleb said. Curtis stared at the screen. Kova was bracing herself for the scolding.

Hours later, they were close enough to the Karthulian Star System to leave the ship. Kova was clenching and relaxing her jaw while she fiddled with the earpieces in her hand. Hopefully, the connection to the satellite wouldn't make the sound so patchy, but only the next few hours would tell. All of the teens were suited up and ready to go, but they had a last-minute briefing before they went ahead with it. Allie was confused but Cake did his best to comfort her.

Kova handed an earpiece to each of the teens as they came in. Shiro was on the floor, staring at maps of the three planets the other lions may reside in. He turned as the five teens began to sit themselves down. Caleb and Kova had matching poker faces, Liz had her eyebrows furrowed, Cake was studying the maps, and Allie was stiff in her seat.

"The Coeus will not be able to assist you as you journey to these planets." Shiro began his inspiring speech. "Only your partners will be able to assist you in any way, shape, or form." Kova and Caleb eyed each other, before returning to meet Shiro's eyes. "Kova, you will stay here. I need you navigating and directing the others." She nodded, miffed since she wasn't going out. "Cake, I want you traveling with Liz to Griezian Sur. The Muldoks will easily outnumber you if you aren't careful." Cake and Liz nodded as Shiro turned his head to Caleb and Allie. "Allie, you will be assisting Caleb. The suit will protect you from Yendailian's temperatures for a short time, but you will eventually overheat." Turning to the whole group, Shiro met every pair of eyes. "Be careful, and when you return, you'll be able to form Voltron." Kova took a deep breath, staying still as the other four left the bridge.

She watched from her place as the Yellow and Blue Lions left the bay and floated in front of the windows.

"Call in. Shirogane."

"Here."

"Smythe."

"Here."

"Griffin."

"Here."

"Garrett."

"Here."

"Roll out, team. You have your coordinates." With that, the pairs left the Coeus behind, until they were no longer visible with the naked eye. Kova watched as the blue dot on the map for Yendailian got closer to the planet's surface and began to move around erratically.

"Blue, what's going on?" Kova began typing something into her screen until camera footage appeared on the screen. It wasn't nearly as terrifying as it looked.

Blue was positioned on a gray stone ridge overlooking a lake of molten rock, with sporadic geysers of simmering air erupted from somewhere below the lake's surface. That wasn't the terrifying bit. The Red Lion was on a shorter pillar of stone in the middle of the lake. Allie had tried going over the vents of air to drop Caleb above the Lion, but a ring of geysers surrounded the pillar. The Blue Lion wasn't built for the high temperatures.

On the opposite side, Cake and Liz had arrived at Griezian Sur. They, too, were also perched on a high ledge. Liz was on the edge of it, looking over the condensed canopy of the planet's forests. If the species here were as tall as they were rumored to be, then Liz would have an easier time finding the Lion on her own than in the Yellow Lion. Cake seemed to agree, grabbing his bayard and joining Liz on the ledge.

"We're gonna venture on our own without Yellow." The pair started looking around for a path down the mountain.

"Don't."

"Cap, if we don't, we're gonna walk into a fight."

"Don't do it."

"Cap!"

"Sorry, Cake. Caleb's trying to kill himself." Staring at two screens was challenging enough. Talking to multiple people, however, made it harder than it should've been. "You're clear to continue. Use that river to your right, it should lead you towards Green's location. Caleb, don't you dare!" With that, Liz and Cake made their way down the mountain.

Caleb had also exited the Lion, much to Allie's protests. It's not as if she tried very hard to stop him, though. Caleb had found a thin bridge connecting the low pillar and the edge of the lake. Kova almost immediately yelled in his ear. Onboard the Coeus, Kova was doing everything but slamming her head on the railing.

"Let me cross the bridge or I mute you." Caleb's voice came over, just as annoyed as Kova. Growling, Kova knew she had a choice to make.

"Fine!" Kova didn't meet Shiro's eyes. Not yet, anyway. "But don't try being cool! Get on all fours and crawl!" Doing exactly what he was told to do, even with all the grumbling, Caleb began his journey across the bridge.

Back on Griezian Sur, Liz and Cake were walking along the banks of the river hoping to find something they could use to make their trip faster. Tremors shook the earth under their feet, leaving the two scrambling for some sort of shelter. This happened to be an oddly shaped cavern near the water's edge, but it was something. Even without knowing what a muldok looked like, they knew this wasn't it.

A robot the size of Yellow stomped up to the water's edge. With a step, it blocked the water flow of the river. The cold water was only a few inches deep around the edges, and with the new blockage, the water began rising. Slowly, but surely, the water began to reach their ankles. It was halfway up their calves when they decided to contact the Coeus.

"Cap?" Kova's eyes were fixated on the screen with Caleb's camera feed. Reluctantly, she turned to Cake's and backed up a step. "We have a problem."

"The giant foot is hard to miss."

"What is it?" Kova noticed Cake's voice was low, almost a whisper.

"Find symbols on its armor," Cake looked up, searching the light gray plates. On a pointed shoulder, a violet symbol was barely visible. It was rough, but Kova could make out its familiarity. She had seen it too many times in reports. Now it has its first update in a long time.

"It looks like a 'Y'," Cake said. "Maybe a 'V' with a tail on the bottom."

"Who cares?" Liz hissed. "How are we getting around it?"

"Maybe we can steal it."

"No." Kova was firm. "Do not engage. Go around it, but stay in its blind spots. If there is one, there will be more."

"I think it's only one," Allie said, jumping into the conversation. Switching camera feeds, Kova saw what Allie did. Another mecha, similar to the first on Griezian Sur, was being dropped on the surface of the planet and moving towards Blue.

"Change of plans," Kova began running through scenarios through her head. "Allie, Cake, I need you to engage and distract." Cake wanted to complain, but he was quickly silenced by Allie's scream. "Allie, get it away from Caleb!"

With creaks, the mecha in front of Cake and Liz turned towards the Yellow Lion on its ridge. The water level was up to their knees.

"I'm gonna hitch a ride," Cake said quickly. "Get to Green." With a nod, Liz watched Cake hop onto the foot of the mecha as its mechanical knees started bending. Liz watched it disappear, sure that its back was turned before running down the river.

Kova watched on as four camera feeds showed four different perspectives. Allie was firing blasts at the mecha, effectively distracting it. Caleb was scooting his butt across the lava lake, maybe thirty feet from the Lion. Cake's feed was bouncing up and down with the movements of the mecha. Liz was running towards the location of the Green Lion.

"Are you sure they're the correct pilots?" Shiro asked Kova, who was biting her thumb, a habit he and Curtis couldn't quite curb.

"Caleb has been relying on instinct since day one. You know that."

"And Liz with Green?"

"She's always been ready to learn, no matter the challenges. If she's not the pilot, I don't know who else could take it up."

"Uh, me." Kenny was pointing at himself, leaning back in Caleb's chair with an ankle on his knee.

"Like I was saying, it's Liz or no one." Kova turned back to the screens, ignoring Kenny's expression.

Caleb was ten feet away from the Lion.

Liz had been running for a solid few minutes, using the sudden flow of the river to take her towards the Green Lion's location.

Cake's bouncing hadn't stopped, but he was near the base of the ridge where Yellow was standing. A yellow forcefield appeared around the Lion as a jerky arm reached out.

Allie was firing, but the mecha was starting to ignore her.

With some last few scoots, Caleb was on the pillar with the Lion. The heat was starting to get to him, thick beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. He was starting to pant for air, but he managed to enter the Lion. Sitting at the controls, Caleb's eyesight became fuzzy. He was too close to passing out from the heat.

"Caleb!" Kova shouted, but the poor boy couldn't hear beyond a few words. "Caleb, just put your hands on the controls!"

Even in his dazed state, Caleb reached out. He couldn't quite reach it.

Allie's scream came over the comms again. Blue had been smacked away from the lava lakes towards one of the erupting volcanoes that surrounded the planet.

Kova and Shiro could only watch Allie's screen in horror as the mecha eerily marched towards Caleb and the Red Lion.

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classlesstulip · 6 years

Link

Just realized that I never posted a link here (either that, or it got ate by the Great Tumblr Tiddy Ban of 2018.) I’m not only including a link to the posting on my AO3 account but also posting it here below the cut. Enjoy!

Time Out

Lucio was not having a good day.

He had slept in to his usual noon. He would have slept in longer, if Mercedes and Melchior hadn’t decided that the best way to wake up their Daddy was to jump onto a very sensitive body part.

(It’s not their fault, they just wanted their morning cuddles.)

Then, he took his morning (afternoon) bath, just to learn one of the bath attendants had dropped his usual oil mix. After bathing in his second-favorite mixture, he found out that his sweet little pups had chewed through eight (EIGHT!) pairs of his boots.

(No, he cannot just get replacements. Ever since Drakar and Iriq got into that trade tiff, the pigment used by the designer to paint the bottoms of his boots is wrong. Candy Apple Red is not a good match for his Scarlet wardrobe!)

Next, after changing his outfit four times, was his breakfast. The Winegirl was sick, and her replacement was not nearly as fetching. Then, Noddy’s owl Chicken (or Chakra, or Chipotle or whatever the damned thing is called) decided that his hair would make for a wonderful nest.

After that shitshow, he went to pay his lovely Valerius a visit. Just to have the door slammed in his face. After getting a full glass of wine dashed in it. And yelled at. For no reason.

So here he is, having changed for a fifth time, and stomping his way down the hall.

(He Did Not like this coat. The color clashed horribly with his prosthetic. Either the coat goes, or he does!)

In the back of his mind, he vaguely recalled Noddy telling him that a representative from the Citadel was going to be in. Something about setting up a Vesuvian Chapter?

His trademark smirk appeared. Members of such a prestigious guild are well-known for their combat prowess in a number of disciplines. He’ll need to see about getting a duel. That will certainly put him in a better mood.

***

One quick stop to the Armory later, and Lucio was strutting his way to the Court Wing. If he remembers correctly, Noddy usually hosts merchant meetings on the Western Porch, overlooking the Hedge Maze.

Midway down the hallway running the length of the Wing, two white blurs dashed passed. The sound of excited yipping clued him in that the perps were his pups, but they bypassed him completely.

(He was quite miffed: anytime they see him, they are overcome with the Wiggles and are not satisfied until pet. He’s NEVER been bypassed!)

Walking thru the open door they dashed into, Lucio could see why they were so excited. His beautiful Noddy was sat, radiant as always. Across the tea table from her was a massive gentleman. Sitting, Lucio thinks he would be as tall (if not taller!) than the Scourge. He was relatively broad, but was built more for speed than strength. He was clad in the leather armor of a Journeyman Citadel member, the supple material clinging lovingly to a sculpted figure.

He gave the stranger a long once-over as he approached them, noting the blades and accoutrements. As he got closer, he could see just how well fitted the leather was.

(If he wins the duel, he will take great glee in peeling that thick material off a struggling, muscular body. He may be able to get Noddy to join!)

Once a few feet away, both turned to look as him. Briefly meeting his wife’s eyes and throwing a saucy smirk her way, he turned fully to their guest.

“So, you are the representative from the Citadel? I am Count Lucio.” He held out his hand to shake, pointedly ignoring the sigh and eye roll he got from Noddy.

Their guest spent a few moments evaluating him, a blank look on his face. The moments stretched into a full minute. Lucio kept his hand out, seeing the gesture (or lack thereof) for what it is: a power play. One that he intended to win. Noddy and Valerius say he has no patience, but this is untrue. He has plenty of it, he just doesn’t waste it on unnecessary things.

(He will allow that what he thinks should require patience and what those two think are different. Not his fault that he has his priorities in order and they don’t.)

His eyebrow flicked when his generous gesture was met with a sniff. His eye twitched when he was turned away from. His jaw clenched when their guest dismissed him utterly.

“As we were discussing, m’lady, the Citadel is looking to have a fully operational Hall in approximately five years. However, we ack-”

“How DARE you dismiss me in such a manner! Did you not hear me introduce myself? I am the Count Lucio of Vesuvia! Who do you think you are, to act in such an uncouth manner!”

Lucio was furious. One does not treat a man of his station in such a way. Even the ill-mannered peasants had more respect for him, and most couldn’t tell the difference between a dinner and a salad fork!

(Well, neither could he. But it’s the principle of the matter!)

He made to step further into their space. He could hear the dainty *clink* of Noddy setting down her teacup. Before he could complete his step, the guest abruptly stood up.

Lucio’s earlier estimate of the man was correct. Only a few inches shorter than the Scourge, and not nearly as broad. His build would be described as being ‘athletic’ over bulky, but he still had quite a bit of power to his frame. He was stunningly attractive. High cheekbones, a long sculpted nose, and large hooded eyes. Lucio’s eyes traveled his face, also taking note of the wide, generous mouth and the strong chin. He looked young, at most 25. A thick thatch of obsidian curls was pulled away from his face in a long braid. Lucio would be lying to himself if he said that he didn’t want to pin this guy. However, he makes it a point to only lay with brats, NOT disrespectful degenerates.

The tension was broken by the sound of scrabbling claws and happy yips. Trotting up the porch steps with a big stick held in between their jaws was a set of large dogs. Hanging from the stick in the center were his sighthounds, their smaller, juvenile frames wriggling in glee. Their hind legs were scrambling, entire backsides a blur from how fast their tails were going. Lucio could hear their happy yips, even as muffled by the stick as they were.

“Hey Mazel, Tov! You girls having fun?” The representative bent over, a large smile on his face as he vigorously rubbed the larger dogs heads. He devolved into ‘doggie talk’ as he rubbed, voice pitched high.

Looking closer, Lucio realized that this was a set of Principia Standing Hounds. Originally a wolf hybrid, these dogs were later crossbred with the Ovcharka Bear Dogs. Now, a fully grown specimen weighed more than most adult men, and stood taller on hind legs than an average adult woman. Thanks to their heritage, their coat wasn’t as long as a Bear Dog, and their legs were quite long.

Most had a mottled coloring, but the ones used by their war-bands had a very distinct pattern. The back was a black or deep brown, with their bellies, inner legs, and faces being a pale cream or white. They are called ‘Standing Hounds’ for the sole fact that they have a propensity for standing on their hind legs. Get a group of them standing, and any Principia can blend in with them.

(Ever since he was a child, he wanted one. Alas, Mama could never get her hands on one, as no self-respecting Principia would dare give one up.)

Both of these dogs had that coveted coloring. This man went from being a nuisance to a Big Deal. If he plays his cards right, he may be able to get a pup.

He stepped back, opening his mouth to start schmoozing.

“As I was saying, Countess, the Hall will be fully operational in about five years. The only issue is that some things that we’ll need are currently illegal in Vesuvia. As you can see, this presents a problem to what services we would be able to offer.” With one last rub to shaggy ears, the rep sat down. He lent over to give some belly rubs to Lucio’s own puppers before picking up his cup.

“Then we will give a special dispensation to allow the Citadel to buy and import the necessary items. After all, it wouldn’t do for you to function on a sub-par level.”

Both Noddy and the rep turned to face him. Noddy was giving him That Look, and the rep had raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

(He has no idea why Noddy is looking at him like that: he knows she also wants a piece of that. The rep on the other hand doesn’t know what he’s missing, but will soon be educated.)

Lucio pasted on his most handsome and charming grin. He shifted his stance a bit, putting most of his weight on his right foot, popping out his hip a bit. A minute twitch of his shoulders resettled his cloak. For the final touch, he flexed his chest and cocked his head, arms crossed.

“We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot.” He pointedly ignored the very unlady-like snort that emerged from Noddy. “Let’s start over: Welcome to Vesuvia! I am Count Lucio.” After this proclamation, he tossed his hair a bit, knowing that his spun locks were very eye-catching. “After you finish up with my Lady Wife, why not join me in further discussion in my quarters?”

He felt rightfully smug when the stranger raised both of his sharp brows at the offer. Even more so when he rested a chin upon a coiled fist, giving Lucio a slow once-over.

Looks like they’ll be doing more than discussing in his quarters tonight. Check and mate Noddy!

***

He sat pouting on his armchair, a snifter of brandy loosely clutched in his hand. His pups had curled at his feet, snuggled together after a long day of play with the two new dogs.

Nadia sat across from him, a smirk of glee on her lips. She didn’t even have the decency to hid it behind her wine glass.

“…I don’t like you right now,” he grumbled. Her smirk only got larger. He sat for a few moments more, glaring at the unlit fireplace. His brows furrowed more the longer he looked.

“At the rate you’re going, one would think that you were trying to light a flame from will alone.”

“Hmph.”

Nadia rolled her eyes. “Please, you cannot still be put off from the fact that your blatant invitation for sex was shrugged off.”

“Yes. Yes I am. I’m gorgeous. I’m charming. I have great battle prowess. AND! I’m quite humble.”

He most certainly did not appreciate the uncultured noise that emerged from his captive audience. He can be humble, dammit!

Noddy put down her wine glass, picking up the bottle on the side table to refill it. For a few moments, the only sounds to be heard were the gentle *glugs* of the wine and the soft breathing of the dogs.

“So,” she continued. “Did you ever think that he might not like dick?”

“Noddy! Such language!”

“Pfftt! As though you haven’t said worse as I worked your bratty ass over.”

“Be that as it may! Have you seen his hair? No heterosexual man can be bothered to keep such long hair looking so nice.”

“Oh, please. If you hadn’t gone off to pout after he rebuffed your advances, you would have learned that he’s a warlord. An undefeated one, going from the length of his curls and young appearance.”

Lucio would normally concede the point at this time. Noddy had a much firmer grasp of the other nations and their customs. He just refuses to believe that a fine specimen such as their guest doesn’t like a bit of man meat.

Absolutely! Refuses!

***

He should be crowing in victory. He was looking at undeniable proof that Mr. Citadel craved man-flesh! Lucio is just pissed that he doesn’t want his man-flesh.

(Preferably down his throat or in his backside.)

Leaning on the wall further down the hall, was Mr. Citadel. He was resting on his right shoulder, legs crossed at the ankles. He was facing away from Lucio, and had his hair free. The red ensemble he was wearing looked to be made from Drakarian silk, and was loose. It looked very similar to an Atreian toga, but not as thick or bulky. Nice and slinky, with slits going high up the hips.

(Drakarian silk was renowned for its lightness and drape. Lucio’s mouth started watering, seeing how the sheer fabric overlay strong muscles. It was so light, he bets you could get a nice shot of dick shadow/print thru the materials.)

He was talking to another person, one only a few inches shorter. Judging from the voice, another male. The uniform they were wearing was one that the Palace doctors and researchers wore.

He clenched his jaw as he saw their guest lift a hand, gently running the backs of long fingers over pale cheeks. He may have chipped a tooth when those same fingers buried themselves in thick auburn hair. He wanted to punch something when the shorter male gave a light laugh.

Before he could get closer, they disengaged. The doctor walked passed the other, a rosy blush on his cheeks and small smile on his lips.

One that disappeared quickly at the glare Lucio gave him. Picking up speed, the doctor turned the corner, leaving Lucio’s sight.

(Normally Lucio would be all over that. That uniform can’t hide those long legs completely. However, he had a more important piece of ass to nail.)

“You there.” He brandished a finger. “Your name. I want it.” So he knows what to growl as he cum’s later.

Mr. Citadel turned, proving Lucio’s theory about the fabric right. After appreciating the view, he met dark eyes squarely. “Unfortunately, I never received it yesterday.”

“The name’s Tiberius Principia.”

Well, there goes his hopes of getting a pup.

Lucio came to a stop next to the newly named Tiberius. Even with his heels, he still had to crane his neck.

“I must say, you and that other fellow seemed awfully familiar for this being your first visit to Vesuvia.” He got a feral grin for his question. One that made a delightful tingle run down his spine, and a fire light in his groin.

“Why my dear Count. Is that… jealousy I hear?” Tiberius snorted. “We met briefly a few years ago, during the Battle of Thunder Gorge. He was the medic that sewed my leg back together. Just wanted him to know that his fine stitch-work let me heal without a scar.”

That was the same battle that lost Lucio his arm. If he had had that medic…

“I must say, just where was this injury?”

He got a lusty baring of teeth, and a devious grin. Before Lucio could press on, Tiberius moved to the side the front split of the toga, high up and just under his groin. His hand ended up resting just over where his cock would rest, and turned his leg out.

Lucio wouldn’t complain about have such a nice view. Alas, he had no idea where the scar would be. He lifted a brow, a smirk caressing his lips.

“Ah, while I do not deny your claims, I cannot fathom just where such a dastardly scar would reside! Could you, perchance, point it out for me?”

(Oh yeah, Lucio. Get that ass, boy! He won’t be sleeping alone tonight!)

Thoughts of muscular legs thrown wide dancing about his head, Lucio was shocked back to reality when the hand holding the material aside started running up and down a smooth and toned inner thigh.

Once Tiberius knew he had Lucio’s attention, he pulled back his hand, letting the fabric fall. He didn’t miss seeing the pout he got for it. “I’ve promised the good doctor an…opportunity to get an up close look of the sight. If he wants to replicate the results, multiple examinations may be required.”

And with that remark and a jaunty wink, Tiberius turned and strode away, sandaled feet making nary a sound. This left Lucio alone to stir in his lusty thoughts, now more determined than ever to get that man into his bed.

(The view he was blessed with as Tiberius walked away made him feel marginally better.)

***

For the next week, Lucio did his best to make good to his word. He had a simple goal. And one would think that a simple goal needed only simple steps, completed in a simple manner.

That would be a fucking lie. It was anything but simple.

Tiberius was in constant meetings with his Noddy. Normally he had no compunction about interrupting them, but lately she started getting That Look every time he did. And, when he did catch Tiberius, he was on his way for another meeting with some official or other.

Normally he wouldn’t care so much. However, Valerius was still in a huff, and he didn’t want to get laughed out of Noddy’s quarters again.

He really needed to get laid. It’s been a week. His molars are floating!

(He is pointedly ignoring the fact that he was being obnoxious in his constant presence in regards to Tiberius.)

Lucio’s nasty attitude was not only obvious, but had set the entire Palace on edge. More so than usual when he is in one of his moods. The servants (such good, attentive servants) were going mad trying to contain him. Every meal consisted of his favorites: snacks and treats were readily available. His usual drinks were on tap, regardless of time of day.

Unfortunately, nothing helped. Even being presented his usual favorite…pets hadn’t brightened his day. He has sucked and fucked like a champion every night (and most days), but he still had a large ball of dissatisfaction burning a hole in his belly.

And all because some two-bit warlord from the Umbral mountains wouldn’t bend over!

(The only bright part was managing to corner that red headed doctor. Let’s see Tiberius try and tap that, knowing Lucio got there first!)

At the end of his rope, he stormed down the hall, making his way to Noddy’s bedchamber. She may not have anything to add, but sometimes spewing his innermost thoughts in her presence helps him think.

His heels clicked as he walked, trying to somewhat organize what was currently floating about in his head. He passed two giggling serving girls, hands to their mouths to smother their mirth.

(Hmmmm…smother…)

Approaching her door, he kicked it open. “NODDY! I NEED YOUR ASSISTANCE!”

No one can say he doesn’t know how to make an entrance. One can say that he doesn’t do astonishment very well.

Early in their marriage, Lucio and Nadia came to an agreement: sleep with who you will, but no. children. At least, no children with other people. And so far, it has worked well. Lucio is having fun plowing any and all, and he knows Noddy has had her flings. They still diddle each other, of course.

(Shivers still travel down his spine every time he remembers their last get-together.)

It still doesn’t mean he can’t be shocked. He called dibs!

“Noddy! How can you betray me so? You know I called it first!”

Lucio, while still shocked that his breathtaking Noddy got the jump on Tiberius first, will be honest and admit that they made a striking picture. They must have been out riding before, well, riding.

His Noddy’s suit was a mess, wrinkled and folded. The jacket and inner layers were completely undone, allowing her well-formed breast to bounce freely. Her riding pants and boots were off entirely, giving Tiberius’s cock easy access to her wet folds. They were sat in one overstuffed chair, Noddy on her knees with her thighs working to move her up and down the thick cock buried within her.

She was moaning loudly, Tiberius having wrapped his lips around one dark nipple. Lucio could see Tiberius’s large hands cupping her firm backside, helping her move. Upon a particularly loud suck, Nadia started trembling, her hands clawing on bare, muscular shoulders. A few more bounces atop the dick she sat on and she came with a sweet sigh. A loud, rolling growl accompanied her sounds, the hips below her pummeling up before grinding hard as a load was deposited inside her. The large hands on her ass pushed and pulled her a bit more, helping Tiberius draw out his orgasm.

Each grind caused an already sensitive Nadia to twitch, giving out a hitching sound. Eventually, Tiberius stopped, sucking his swollen lips to the fluttering pulse-point in the elegant neck below him.

“…really, Noddy? You can’t even be bothered to share?”

Both individuals tensed, before Nadia twisted around glaring. “Are we seriously having this conversation now, Lucio? Tch. It’s not my fault that your lack of personality kept you out of another’s bed.”

Tiberius snickered at Lucio’s offended ‘Noddy!’. He leaned back, enjoying the show. He grinned, not failing to notice that Lucio’s eyes were glued to his bare chest the entire time.

Lucio stood there, mouth agape and his hands hanging. “Nu-uh!” He pouted. He’s a delight, dammit!

“Really, Lucio?” Nadia arched a shapely brow. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? For thou hast no class.”

Tiberius hissed, a look of ‘oooooh, no’ crossing his face.

“I’ll have you know, dearest Wife, that quite a few in this Palace enjoy my presence! Both inside and out of the bedroom! Look at Valerius! He has such high standards, and I exceed them all!”

“Valerius is so drunk, he mistakes your cock for a bottle neck. Hence why he’s always eager to get on his knees.”

“And what of that stable boy? Hmmmmm? I never would have thought you needed additional ‘riding’ lessons?”

“Well, Lucio. You know what they say: a rider is only as good as their mount.”

Damn, Tiberius winced in sympathy. Way to kick a man when he’s down, Nadia.

“I grow tired of this insult match!” Lucio leaned on a leg, one arm crossed. He made to look at the clawed tips of his prosthetic, inspecting them for dirt. As nonchalant as he portrayed himself, he couldn’t hide the blush on his face or his reddened ears.

“Then by all means, leave us.”

With a dramatic swish of his cape, the beleaguered Count left.

***

A few days later found our Princely Playboy in one of the smaller courtyards, playing fetch with his pups. It was late in the evening, and the sun was setting. Dinner had ended not even an hour previous.

It was important to tucker-out the dogs, otherwise they would do their best to lick him awake (or worse) during the night. While he loves his dogs and would forgive them anything, he loves his sleep more.

(He throbs in remembered pain. One night after he acquired them, he learned the hard way how important it was to have them expend all their energy. They now know that Daddy does not keep the fetch stick in bed.)

After a few more tosses, he could see the drooping ears and low tails. He dropped to his knees, lavishing them with praise and pets.

Lucio walked up the steps into his quarters, debating what to do next. He grinned as he watched the pups try leaping onto the foot of his bed, paws unable to gain traction on the slick sheets. The young animals failed multiple times, causing him to snicker. It was only when they started whimpering that he helped. He bent over, each arm scooping up a dog. As he deposited them, he got a few doggy kisses. They settled down, curling upon each other before grooming themselves. He took a few moments to brush a few errant dog hairs off his coat.

Lucio turned out of his bedchamber, heading out to his sitting room. After he finished shutting the door, a loud and resounding CRACK! was heard. An instant later, something wrapped around his ankle, before tugging sharply. As his leg flew up, he fell backwards. He slapped his arms back, trying to absorb more of the impact of his fall to the floor and prevent his head from slamming into it.

Simultaneously, he rolled onto the side of his caught leg, swinging the free leg as a counterweight to his now being dragged. As he was pulled, Lucio dug his claw deep into the plush rug, creating long furrows. He tried to reach down with his other hand and unwrap his ankle. An extra sharp tug jerked him, and the dragging sped up. Teeth clenched, he looked up. His eyes widened when he saw his would-be assassin was Tiberius.

A Tiberius that had a wide, predatory grin on his face. Wrapped around his hands was the lead and handle to a long, thin whip. After another tug, he started pulling in the lead faster.

Knowing a challenge when he saw one, Lucio threw the other a bloodthirsty smirk. Cantilevering his free leg, he twisted to the other side. He flung both hands out, grabbing a heavy table leg. He jerked to a stop, hissing as the force from his actions pulled at the muscles under his arms. Biceps burning, he tried to pull himself over the table leg.

He let out another hiss, ankle burning as the lead pulled tighter. He stopped pulling, instead curling his free leg up. After ensuring he had a good grip, he reached his hand down, fingers twitching. If he’s fast enough…

Curling his hand, he pulled. A thin dagger was always kept in each boot, the sheath designed to allow a quick-draw. He slashed thru the taught leather, the stranglehold on his ankle releasing almost immediately. Not wanting to give Tiberius a chance to pounce, Lucio rolled, seeking cover behind the table proper.

Once sure of his cover, he grabbed the other dagger, prosthetic fingers fumbling slightly with their lack of fine dexterity. Each dagger now grasped firmly, he stood in a hunch, leaving only his head and shoulders above table level. Tiberius stood on the other side, also with daggers drawn.

Taking a chance, Lucio hurled himself over the table, using a chair to clear the tabletop. His hand shot out, twisting the blade for a backhand-strike. It met metal, screeching. He kicked out his opposite leg, aiming a kick to an unprotected armpit. A muscular arm locked around his thigh mid kick, before Tiberius spun hard.

Lucio’s stomach dropped at the force, before he was completely airborne. After a few moments of flying backwards thru the air, he landed on a couch. Using the energy of his bounce, he flipped himself over the back, just missing a singing blade. He danced backwards, fists up high. Lucio had just enough time to readjust his dagger grip before Tiberius met him again, this time going low for a kidney shot. Lucio brought both daggers down and then up in an x-formation, catching the others blade. Giving a hard and fast twist, he wrenched, sending the caught blade flying.

Tiberius made a fist, swinging down to hit a grinning mouth. Lucio moved out of the way, but not fast enough. Instead of getting the full force of a haymaker, he got clipped on the chin. His teeth snapped together, just missing clipping his tongue. He could feel skin split and saw stars.

(Tiberius was no Scourge, but he still hit with the power of a horse.)

Backing up and shaking his head, Lucio aimed a kick at an unprotected knee. He was foiled when Tiberius jumped, swinging up his legs to plant both feet in Lucio’s chest. The dual-kick landed, knocking the wind from Lucio. He landed on the floor, skidding.

Once coming to a stop on his back, he twisted to the side. Tiberius had jumped high, legs pulled up tight before shooting out in a jackknife as he landed in Lucio’s previous position. If his feet had connected, he would have collapsed the Counts chest.

Scrambling to his feet and disarmed, Lucio was grinning like a loon. It had been so long since he had an actual fight for his life. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the burn of battle, the heart-thumping adrenaline. He was breathing hard, eyes wide and fixed on his opponent.

Glancing around, Lucio spotted an overstuffed cushion. Ducking, he grabbed it. Tearing thru the fabric with his claw, he threw it at his opponents face. Using the billowing feathers as a distraction, he ran in, hooking his natural arm in a lariat. He used the momentum of his swing to ride up on a strong back, wrapping his legs around a thick set of hips.

Going to put Tiberius into a choke-hold, he grasped his hooked wrist. Before he could complete the motion, a large hand reached back, grabbing him by the scruff of his jacket. One hard yank later, and he was airborne once again.

Crash landing on a table, Lucio spun himself off. If he had been a few seconds too late, he would have paid dearly. As it was, he got a front row seat to a gloved fist punching thru solid oak.

Using the opportunity presented by a stuck Tiberius, Lucio swung his fist. He connected a kidney shot, relishing in the hard gasp he wrought. He next swung his clawed fist, but Tiberius moved to the side. Claw skidding uselessly along thick leather armor, Lucio hooked an ankle, trying to tug his opponent off balance. He nearly succeeded, had Tiberius not planted his free hand on the ruined table and flipped himself over it. In order to escape being ensnared by long legs, Lucio ducked out of the way.

Swinging his arms back and forth a few times, he brought his clenched fist up high. He turned sideways, trying to minimize his profile and thus target area. He widened his stance a bit more, before settling into a light crouch.

Tiberius did something similar, tossing his remaining blade to the side. Both predators stood, evaluating each other for a few moments before exploding into movement once again. Lucio came in low, leading with his natural arm. He faked a punch, instead wrapping his arms around a hard torso. He twisted to the right hard, trying to pivot the other. What should have been a throw, devolved into an awkward hug. Lucio had grossly underestimated how much the other weighed.

(If a 400 pound man decides he doesn’t want to be moved, he will not be moved, Newtonian physics be damned.)

Long arms wrapped around Lucio’s own waist, before he was ripped up and away. His vision spun, before refocusing on a quickly ascending ceiling. Before he could make sense on just why the ceiling was doing that, his back met a muscled front, followed by his upper back being slammed into the floor as Tiberius executed a textbook suplex.

Stunned, Lucio wilted. While trying to relearn how to breath, Tiberius took the chance to tie up his opponent. Pulling a length of cord from his belt, Tiberius got to work. In short order, he had the salacious Count tied up in a series of shibari knots.

Lucio had his arms bound in a box position behind his back, the length leading down to his hips. His legs were arraigned in a frog-tie, with the final length of cord traveling up his front to spiderweb over and around his shoulders, a loop going over the back of his neck. This forced him into a crouched position, balanced on his knees and upper chest/shoulders, face smashed to the side in the plush rug. The length of cord that tied his legs split at the apex of his presented ass, pulling tight over his trousers and framing his bulging arousal.

(Lucio was in heaven. Only his Noddy could ever fight him into submission. If he doesn’t get fucked hard, he’ll commit murder.)

“Well,” he breathed, chest heaving. “You have me where you want me. Aren’t you going to enjoy your spoils?” He moaned like the slut he is when a large and heavy hand slapped over a cheek.

“Keep your pants on *snort*. We’ll be joined shortly.” After finishing that sentence, a single knock was heard, before the door opened. Lucio could hear soft footsteps, along with the sounds of creaking canvas.

“I see you already have him in position. Tell me, was he his usual bratty self?”

“Ohhh Noddy!” The glee contained in that statement was palpable.

“Well, he certainly needs a spanking. Little bitch needs to learn his place.”

Lucio wiggled his hips, anticipation high in his blood. He could hear the heavy tread of boots walking away, stopping momentarily before returning. As they stopped, he could hear the *thunk* of something being set down. This was followed by a zipper being undone, and then a series of lighter *thunks*.

He moaned as hands returned to his buttocks, massaging. He moaned louder as he got a few swats, one hand rubbing down his clothed cleft to firmly cup and massage his cock and balls before being removed.

“Hey! Come back! What do you thi- oooohhh! ~”

Lucio was very familiar with the delightful sting of a riding crop. Noddy was a master of its use. Normally, the pain was much sharper, but the fine cloth of his trousers dulled the sensation somewhat. At each blow, he let out a loud groan, loving the feeling of being vulnerable at the behest of a superior predator. Each smack of the crop caused him to squirt out a little more precum. Soon, his smalls were clinging wetly to his groin.

Eventually, Nadia came to a stop. Breathing a bit heavier than normal, she adjusted her robe. Walking to stand beside Lucio, she lifted a heeled foot. Placing the balls of her foot firmly on his hip, Nadia gave a hard push. Lucio tilted, landing with a loud *whump*. Cocking her head, she looked over her husband before giving a decisive nod. “Tiberius, would you kindly move him to the couch?”

Tiberius strode over, fingers hooking into the ropes between the arms and the hips. Tugging hard, he lifted the bound Count easily, giving a little swing. He savored the hitch in Lucio’s breath as he did so. “Anywhere in particular?”

“Hm, on his knees, facing the back. Be sure to put a folded towel down, he likes to bite things, and I don’t need teeth marks embedded in the wood trim.”

Tiberius did as told, tossing some of the decorative cushions aside. He growled when Lucio started wriggling in earnest, trying to be difficult. Fisting golden locks, Tiberius yanked his head back.

“If you want to get dicked, stop moving and do as you’re told. Nadia and I have no problem leaving you like this all night.” After a few token grumbles and a pout, Lucio did as told.

“Thank you, Tiberius. Although, we seem to have a problem: he’s still clothed. Your knotwork is superb and I would hate for it to be undone just so we can strip him. It must have also taken considerable effort to properly bind his prosthetic…”

“Easily solved, m’lady.”

Lucio jolted when large hands slapped onto abused cheeks, before dragging to his hips. Strong fingers dug into his trouser waistband before giving a hard jerk. He groaned as he heard and felt the finely woven material part like butter under a hot knife.

The trousers parted down the center seam, a few sharp tugs helping. Once the rip reached the front, a large palm rubbed harshly against his still-clothed cock as they went to unbutton the pants. Moments after, Lucio gasped as those same fingers roughly slid between his underwear and his perineum, hooking into a fist and ripping the crotch out. A few hard smacks followed, pulling lusty grunts from his chest.

Behind him, Lucio could hear the sounds of shifting fabric along with the distinct metallic sound of buckles. He tried to cant his head back, but a fist to his hair stopped him. Pulling his head up, Lucio could see a disapproving topless Tiberius looking down on him. After shaking his head, Tiberius shoved a flat pillow under Lucio’s face before forcibly planting his blushing mug.

Lucio shook his head, trying to get comfortable. He opened his mouth, about to make a comment about keeping him waiting when a heavy weight planted itself on the small of his back. He wriggled his fingers, trying to feel what was on him. He got more smacks to his already flaming cheeks, before the same hands grasped and pulled them wide, exposing his hole for the room to see.

“Furniture is to be seen, not heard,” a deep voice growled out from above him. Lucio blushed hard, now realizing Tiberius was using him as a fucking chair. He wiggled his hips, biting his lips hard. His cock became harder, being used in such a degrading way doing so much for him.

Lucio, being who he is, just had to push the envelope. “Fuck yeah, sit on me Daddy.” He added a few more squirming motions, moaning when he could feel the underside of an erection get rubbed at the crest of his ass.

“AH!” For his impertinent actions, Lucio got a double-handed spank, before those same hands started soothing him. He let out several enthusiastic moans as thick oil-covered fingers ran up and down his cleft before one was shoved in fully without ceremony. The hand holding his cheeks spread traveled down, cupping his full sac roughly. Hard and heavy massage on just this side of pain followed.

The rough pumping of the finger buried deep within him, while nice, was not enough. Lucio wanted his legs quivering, breath hitching, and to be unable to keep his head up. He opened his mouth to start bitching when a second thick finger joined the fray, causing his eyes to roll back and to moan like a pro.

“That’s right, bitch. Don’t think I didn’t see you try to mouth off.” A third finger was shoved in, the pain and pleasure from the action causing Lucio’s cock to give a hard twitch. After a few pumps and brushes against his prostate, he came in a great gush, shouting. As he pulsed, he could feel long delicate fingers wrap around his cock, pumping hard and fast, fingers catching on his piercings. Soon, he was bucking hard into Nadia’s fist, the slippery cum from his release helping in her motions.

“Na-, Noddy!” Long after his release finished, she kept pumping him. It quickly became painful, his hips shaking as he moved into overstimulated territory. The piercing directly under his head received the most attention, each brush on it pulling whines from deep within his chest.

“Now look at what you did, Lucio. The servants won’t be able to get the stains out. How shameful.”

“I have to agree with you on that one, Nadia. And to think, for all of his bragging, he came quicker than a boy having his first tumble in the stable.”

Lucio flushed deep, the curl of humiliation dug deep into his belly. He licked his lips a few times, before opening his mouth.

“I, I- oh FUCK!” Before he could finish his sentence, the head of something thick and blunt pushed in. As it moved deeper, he could feel it flex and bulge oddly. The final clue that he got was the feel of a leather harness butting up against abused ass.

“There. That should keep him from doing more than just talking.”

His Noddy had brought out her strap-on, and was using his favorite attachment. While not too long, it was a tapered ball-dildo. The widest ball was at the base, with four other bulbs going up the length. Each bulb as it pushed in caused him to buck hard with a groan. By the time she had come to a complete stop, fully seated, he was a shaking mess.

“Pardon me, m’lady.”

Lucio could feel hands move below him, along with a length of something satiny. Moments later, he could feel something wind and twist around his semi-erect cock, from head to base. It was threaded delicately between his hardware before moving down, then being tied off. He could feel the ends of what had to be a ribbon brush his inner thighs.

“What a lovely gift. Thank you, Tiberius. The bow is a fine touch.”

After a bit of shifting, Lucio could feel his Noddy curl her elegant fingers into the ropes folding his ankles to his thighs. After pushing him back and forth gently a few times, she got to business. Each hard pull pushed the tip of her strap hard against Lucio’s sweet spot, wet and obscene sounds of the insertion and withdrawal of the toy providing a backing track. He groaned hard at each thrust, at times trying to wiggle his hips for more prostate stimulation.

Soon after, Tiberius started flexing his own hips back and forth. Using his perched position to his advantage, his rolling motions helped Nadia in her thrusting.

Lucio was a panting, growling mess. Being speared upon Nadia was always an experience, but being used as a fucking seat by Tiberius, feeling the flexing of his strong thighs and muscular ass propel him onto Noddy’s shaft was something altogether new. Soon, Tiberius’s motions set the pace. While hard, it was neither slow nor fast.

Soft, wet sounds soon became apparent, along with moist panting. A few moans could be heard as well, as Tiberius and Nadia attacked each others lips and mouths. A fight for domination of the kisses soon followed, with Tiberius tangling his fingers in Nadia’s loose hair. His rolling motions soon picked up speed, forcing a mewling Lucio onto Nadia’s shaft faster and harder. At the apex of each roll, Tiberius ground, trying to give more stimulation to his still-trapped erection.

Eventually, the thrusting and rolling became hard and fast enough to cause the couch to start walking across the rug. Lucio had bitten hard and deep into the pillow his face rested on, the fabric doing little to muffle his moans. On particularly hard thrusts, he let out an ecstatic shout.

Nadia was nearing the end of her endurance, growling lowly she upped her pace. The rubbing of her strapped dildo against her wet clit was finally getting to her. Her thrusting was becoming sloppy and unhinged, her hips losing pace. Ripping her lips from Tiberius’s, she let out a low cry, grinding her pelvis against Lucio’s red-hot cheeks. After a few more sloppy grinds, she stilled.

Slowly, she pulled out one bulb at a time. On quivering legs, she walked backwards, sitting heavily on the edge of a destroyed table. She leaned back, a shaking hand slowly undoing her harness buckles, pushing the leather contraption down. It met the floor with a heavy thunk, the high tinny-sound of the buckles jingling lightly. She debated pushing her robe off fully, but decided it was too much effort.

While Nadia was settling, Tiberius decided it was his turn. Dismounting a shaking and unfulfilled Lucio’s back, he rounded on the Count. Unlacing the high waist of his leather trousers, he pushed them down to the tops of his thighs. Reaching to the side, he picked up a discarded bottle of oil. Pouring a liberal amount over his swollen dick, he slicked up before slamming home.

“Hurgk!” Lucio was not expecting the harsh mounting, nor the fast and hard pace. After flying wide, his eyes drooped, back bowing low. Biting his lip hard, he moaned loud and low before popping his hips. He spread his knees, trying to get the thick dick now claiming his sloppy ass home to slide in deeper. Each hard thrust fucked a grunt out from his chest. A hand fisted in his hair, pulling harshly. The other curled in the knots surrounding his bound arms. He could feel a booted foot plant itself in the cushions of the couch seat, forcing cock deeper into his ruined hole.

“Fu~uu~uck…” each bounce that forced him up and down a hot shaft caused Lucio’s neglected cock to throb. “Oh shi~it! Fuck! Hard~er…!”

“Look at this cockslut, Nadia. Does he always beg so nicely?” Despite the calm tone, Tiberius was breathy from his hard work. He gave a particularly hard thrust, making sure to grind hard against an abused prostate. He sighed in pleasure to the wail he got in return, before returning to his initial pace.

“When you peg him right, he mewls like a bitch in heat. Numerous times he’s dropped to his hands and knees, ass up and begging for it when I bring out the crop.”

Lucio groaned at hearing Tiberius’s chuckle. Listening to Noddy air their dirty laundry caused him to clench, Tiberius bucking hard into him. The loud and sloppy squelching sounds of his used hole were becoming more frequent, and his heavy cock was dangling low, unable to expend its load.

After a few more thrust, Tiberius hooked his hands around Lucio’s chest, lifting him. Spinning, he sat, pulling a dazed Lucio down hard upon his dick. This pulled a moan from the other. Lucio was made to bounce hard and high, the hips now below him giving him no choice. Hands tangled at his hips, using the knotted material as handles in his lusty endeavor.

Eyes rolling, Lucio’s back bowed backwards at the new depths of his dicking. His cock slapped against his flexing abs, straining against the ribbon keeping him from completion.

“Just…fucking nut me already!” Lucio got a meaty smack to his cock and balls for his attitude, pulling a startled shout from him. He growled as the shirt and jacket he was still bound in was grabbed just under her collar. Pulling down, the buttons popped off, leaving a torn and warped mess. Lucio’s newly revealed nipples were grabbed and twisted hard, forcing his head to loll and eyes to cross.

He could feel soft hands smooth over his thighs, moving the torn pieces of his trousers away before pulling up his ruined underwear. A loose fist curled around him, give a few half-hearted strokes to a now painful erection. The hands currently at his hips moved, molding to his inner thighs before forcing them wide.

After a few short moments, He could feel why: the flap tip of a crop was being gently smacked on his cocks underside, in the area between cock and ball. It alternated between soft and gentle and firm with a snap. Regardless of what level of force was used, each time the crop met his flesh pulled a full-body jerk from him. Every jerk squeezed a trembling moan from the man currently buried balls-deep in his ass, and soon Tiberius’s thrust also became sloppy.

“Look at you, poor man. You look like your having a hard time.” The crop trailed up to a sensitive head, before delivering a hard flick to a metal bar. Lucio could hear gentle footsteps, unknowing of when he had closed his eyes. He could smell musk, before Nadia’s fingers grabbed his hair and forced his head back. Slick lips dragged over his chin, before a wet cunt made its home on his panting mouth. He cracked watery eyes open, seeing a smirking Nadia gazing down as him. “Be a good boy, and suck.”

After blinking, Lucio did as he was told. Curling his tongue and keeping eye contact, he pulled it up from between wet lips to swirl it around a swollen clit. Flattening his tongue, he laid it over her entrance before laving it up and down in broad strokes. Each upward pull brought it closer and closer to her clitoris, eventually covering it. He shook his head like a dog with a stick, before sucking his lips around it. After a few hard sucks, he returned back down. He lightly dipped his tongue into her core a few times, before returning to the flat licking he did earlier.

Nadia stood above him on quivering legs, hips rotating slowly. They twitched on particularly hard flicks of his tongue, releasing a little extra juice as she did so. Soon, one of her hands traveled up to play with her breasts, the other going back down to the locks trapped between her legs. Once secure, she started grinding hard against a talented mouth, reveling in the wet slurps of a talented pussy-eater. Soon, lips and tongue were working her clit over exclusively, moving quick.

Her second orgasm was quick and sudden, pulling a pleasured scream from her throat. Both of her hands locked in Lucio’s hair, pulling and tugging him every which where. During the whole event, his mouth kept moving and his tongue kept dancing. He moaned at the thick gush she produced, shaking at the combined sensation of her slick traveling down his chin and the pounding his ass was taking.

As she dismounted from his face, she lent down, pulling the bow at the base of his cock loose. Instantly, his dick started spewing cum, thick streams going up his stomach and chest. The thick pumping hand that wrapped around him pulled loud and lusty yells from his chest. Each spasm caused him to get tight around the dick still beating into him, and he could soon feel a throbbing shaft shooting thick and heavy warmth deep inside him.

“Oh FUCK yes! Fucking hell…”

After a long and hard orgasm, Lucio sagged, only being kept somewhat upright by his binds. The hand around his shaft had slowed its pumping, the large cum-covered palm moving to cover and massage his spent sac. The gentle squeezing caused Lucio to make full-body twitches, breath hitching loudly each time.

“Ple-, please stop! No more.”

The hand stopped. Looking to his side, Lucio could see Nadia slouching bonelessly on her side, her hand curled around the wrists of Tiberius’s cum-covered hand. Her lips were sucking each digit clean, savoring the emission like a fine dessert. Her eyes cracked open, focusing on his. Once sure she had his attention, she added more tongue to her show, licking a broad swath up the palm she held captive. At the apex, where palm and finger met, she sucked one slick digit into her mouth, plush lips locking tightly.

Lucio moaned at the show, trying to lean in and participate. His bindings kept him in place, pulling a whine of denial from high in his chest. After feeling some scrambling behind his back, there was a jerk, then his bonds slacking.

Before he could make do on his desire to lock lips with Noddy’s cum-covered ones, his face was forcibly turned in the opposite direction. A thick tongue forced itself between his lips, pulling a gasp from him. Soon, his tongue was engaged in lazy brushes and passes with another one, lips locked. He could feel the hand on his jaw move up, fingers digging into his hair. The kisses soon became open-mouthed and sloppy, both tongues licking up the leftover wet from Nadia. Someone moved Lucio’s legs from their folds, settling him into a more natural sitting position.

The motions reminded Lucio that he still sat on dick, the movements causing the buried shaft to reawaken. He raised his hands to brush along the face attached to his, being mindful of his claw. He panted into Tiberius’s mouth, feeling the minute flexing of the hips below him.

Lucio would normally be up for another round, but being worked so hard by two demanding tops would exhaust anyone. He whined, unable to verbalize his issues.

(One would never be able to get Lucio to admit that he also wasn’t as young as he used to be. A few years ago, he would have been saying ‘Next!’. Now though…)

“Don’t worry. Just lay back and think of Vesuvia.”

Before he could retort, Nadia had thrown her hips over his messy lap, sliding down a half-erect shaft. She curled her arms around the shoulders behind Lucio, burying his face in her breasts before grinding slowly. It was only the work of a few minutes before an overstimulated Lucio pushed up and in her, moaning softly as he released. He sat panting as she sat back, fingers lazily playing with her clitoris before he could feel her clench around him.

Lucio could feel Tiberius shift a bit, before large hands curled under the blonds thighs. Showing great strength, Tiberius pulled, raising Lucio’s thighs up whilst Nadia still sat on his cock.

Holding two people up, even just slightly was hard work, so Tiberius had to be quick. Planting his feet firmly on the floor, he worked his hips and abs. Minute thrusts and grinding were all he needed, Lucio doing his best to flex and help Tiberius to a final orgasm.

“Ummmmm…just…ohhhh that’s it…”

After a few more shallow thrusts into a clenched hole, Tiberius came with a purr. He let go of the thighs in his grasps abruptly, grunting loudly as the ass around him planted firmly into his lap.

They lay in a panting pile, unable to do more than quiver and tremble.

“So,” Tiberius panted. “Do I get that Writ of Royal Patronage now?” A clawed thumbs up was his answer, along with a breathy chuckle.

#the arcana #count lucio #nadia satrinava #tiberius principia #apprentice #fic: time out

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skvaderarts · 3 years

Text

Hiraeth Chapter 31: Reinstate

Chapter Thirty-One: Reinstate

Masterlist can be found Here!

Note: Sorry for the upload being a few hours late. I had one of those days where something happens and it just pisses you off, so you take a nap and when you wake up, it’s 8pm. SMH.

(-~-)

One week Later…

Stretching on and on for what felt like miles, the looming, almost oppressive structure towered over them like some sort of vast Eldredge monstrosity. Clad with dark brick and even darker windows, there was no clear-cut indication that the residence was even occupied, aside from the immaculate condition in which the grounds were kept. Although slightly overgrown in regards to the thick ivy that clung to the top of the high wall that bordered the corner lot, and the equally thick secondary, almost blue variety of foliage that crawled up the grey and red bricks that covered the home, it seemed deliberate. All of the hedges were cut, all of the thick cypress trees had been pruned, and not a single blade of grass was out of place on the side of the fence they occupied. Even the flowers themself that stood tall, basking in the glow of the mid-morning sun seemed to be too well-shaped. It was as though someone had meticulously plucked every petal in order to force the buds to form a certain shape, or that had been purposely bred to do so automatically. All in all, a very strange sight.

Admittedly, the top of the gate and walls were no different. In addition to being a frankly overkill solution in regards to keeping out unwanted visitors, every wrought iron spike and delicate curl stretched upwards in perfect uniformity, abnormally clean, and clearly under the care of someone who was more than slightly obsessed with the upkeep of the environment around the manor. It was one thing to clear away debris and old plants, but to polish the gates in an attempt to keep their natural shine for as long as possible? That was something else. That would literally take forever, and it would have to be done constantly. Who had the time or the inclination to do something like that?

Nico had insisted on coming, certain that she would have some new and exciting stories to share with Rock the next time she talked to him. Maybe she could send him pictures? She felt like he might be into that, but with everything going on at the moment, it probably wasn’t wise to start contacting members of her family. Who knew who might be watching. The last thing that the plucky young gunsmith wanted to do was unknowingly contribute to the death of one of the people she cared about most, especially when they were family. She just knew that she would never be able to forgive herself for doing something like that, even if it hadn’t been her intention.

On either side of the gate were what seemed to be guards. They stood there like statues, unmoving sentinels with a clear and defined purpose: to keep outsiders from entering the grounds unless explicitly permitted by someone from within the building. And by the looks of it, they were nowhere near that lucky. Despite the fact that they had now walked the distance of the entire wall, no one from within seemed to have noticed their presence yet, more than likely mistaking them for simple passers-by. It was an easy enough thing to do, considering how gloomy it was. The cool breeze and light rain hadn’t helped their odds of being noticed sooner rather than later. Umbrellas tended to block your line of sight.

Peering through the gate from afar, not much more than the stone path that led to the front gate was visible from this angle. What looked to be a front door was present a few yards away towards the left of the property, but they couldn’t be sure from here. The cypress trees that lined the half-circle driveway made being able to discern these things from as far back as they were challenging. Still, they needed to gain entry to the property, so they were apparently going to have to bite the bullet and give up the element of surprise a little. How unfortunate. They had been hoping to maintain that for as long as they could.

Approaching the gate, Magnolia stopped for a moment and took a long, slow breath before proceeding to press the call button on the gate. Vergil noticed, but said nothing. It wasn’t his place to, and he knew that better than anyone else here probably did. Only once had he walked the halls of this establishment, and it had been so brief and so long ago that trying to recall the specifics felt like trying to remember the details of a dream you had experienced decades ago. He had been an entirely different person then, but coming here had been a decisive move on his part that had proven to be a positive decision despite the path it later sent him down.

When no one responded, she cleared her throat before turning to one of the guards. Perhaps one of them would hold the answers to why she was still standing here without a response of any kind to fall back on. “Excuse me kindly, sir. Surely someone is home? I’ve never seen this place empty in the four decades that I’ve walked this earth.”

The tall man turned to her, seemingly dismissing her existence outright. He didn’t seem at all pleased to have her standing anywhere near the gate. “I’ll have to ask you to move away from the property line. The lady of the house isn’t accepting guests. The property is on lockdown, you see.” He paused for a moment, seemingly distressed by something that he had just said. After adjusting his collar, his tone became sterner, more than likely a direct result of him noticing the fact that she had company for the first time. “Don’t trouble yourself with the details. They aren’t important. Just vacate the premises, ma’am.”

She got the impression that he had said more than he was supposed to, and that in of itself was enough to pique her curiosity. It was very rare that something like this happened, but now she got the distinct impression that she understood why seemingly no one was home. They were all safely inside of the confines of the manor, guarding themselves against some unknown threat. That was worrisome. They didn’t tend to hide. “Lockdown? Whatever for?”

”I’ve said more than enough already. Off with you.” The man said, clearly miffed. The guard on the other side of the gate seemed to notice the situation, turning around to face them both. It seemed that if she needed to be removed from the premises, then he would be part of the solution. But upon noticing who his partner was talking to, he stood at attention, motioning for the other man to stop speaking. He stepped forward and looked at her closely, tilting his head to the side slightly before standing at attention again, mouth agape.

“Pardon my intrusion… but are you… It is you!” The man recoiled in surprise, motioning for the other guard to stand aside. Clearly confused, the other man did as he was instructed, but gave his compatriot a skeptical look as he did so, clearly not comprehending what all the fuss was about.

“We were told not to allow-” The first guard started, looking between his partner and the strange woman at the gate, the latter of which was giving him a fierce look of disapproval in regards to his treatment of her thus far. The older guard shushed him, clearly not entertaining any further interruptions on his behalf. This conversation was over.

“Belay that. Do you have any idea who you just disrespected?” The older guard asked as he unlocked the front gate and slid it to one side, nodding politely to Magnolia as she and the others entered the front gates. Vergil didn’t pay the man any mind, but Dante, Nero, Nico, Lucia, and V were thoroughly perplexed. Didn’t Magnolia’s family live here? How did no one here recognize her? Sirrus didn’t seem surprised by their reaction, but he did seem slightly agitated.

“Forgive him, Lady Ludwig. He is new here, and he has no idea who he is speaking to. Please, you and your guests are welcome to enter. I will alert one of my benefactors to your presence. Please, enjoy your visit.” He stepped out of her way and moved to close the gate again, much to the ire of the other guard who was clearly still out of the loop as to what was going on. “It has been quite a long time, has it not? Not to be insensitive, but I thought you long dead! When you approached the gate, I thought I had just seen a ghost!”

“Think nothing of it, Briar. Family affairs drove me away, and family affairs have brought me back. That is simply the way things work around here.” Magnolia bowed politely, a tired but happy smile on her face. This was going to be a long day, wasn’t it? “It is good to see that you are well, however. Seeing you here after such a long time… it was a pleasant surprise. I trust that my little sisters are here?”

He nodded, gesturing towards the front door. “That way, ma’am. Lady Aluta is out of town, but Madam Willow should be back shortly. She had to step away on an important business trip. I can’t imagine she won’t return before dinner. She never misses it.”

“Of that, I have no doubt. That would be unlike her.” Magnolia’s face was plastered with blatant discomfort at the prospect. There had been a part of her that had hoped to run into her youngest sister. Aluta was concise and brutal at times, but she was logical and level-headed above all else. Utterly ruthless and cunning, but able to be reasoned with. On the other hand, Willow could be very…

Just then, the doors to one of the third-story balconies above them flew open, and out stepped a young woman with soft brownish-gray hair. It trailed down towards her waist as it and her long gray robe blew in the wind, her eyes traveling towards the gate. After a moment, they settled onto Magnolia, and she gave a surprised gasp. “And just when I thought my day could not become more interesting! Tantine, is that you?! At last, you’ve come home!”

Magnolia gazed up at her before her eyes went wide, and she covered her mouth with her hands, clearly taken aback by the sight that unfolded before her. “Hydrangea is that you, ma chérie?! Surely it hasn’t been that long?! Little lady, when did you get so… tall?!”

Without warning, the young woman vaulted over the railing, eager to meet up with them. Alarmed looks crossed the faces of both Nero and Nico as they watched her plummet towards the ground, while V starred on in hesitant expectation. He had the feeling that she knew what she was doing, but it was still alarming to watch her vault over the edge like that. But surely someone her age knew how to not fall to their death off of a tall building like this? There was no way that she would have done that if she didn’t think she’d be able to land safely. At least he hoped so. He would find out soon enough either way.

V’s assumption proved to be correct a moment later when about two-thirds of the way down, her fall slowed somewhat, and she was able to come to a gentle stop on the gravel coated pavement, the young summoner noticing for the first time that she was barefoot. Dante and Lucia shared a curious look, but said nothing, seemingly just along for the ride at this point. Sirrus snickered, shaking his head. Oh yes, he never got tired of this place. He needed to visit more often.

As soon as she stood all the way back up, she sprinted over to Magnolia, throwing her arms around her and hugging her tightly. Magnolia reciprocated the gesture, lifting the small structured young woman off of the pavement as she embraced her, clearly overjoyed to see her. It really had been that long, hadn’t it? Goodness…

I am so sorry that I have not come to see you sooner! I received all of your letters, and knowing your mother, it was probably quite the challenge to send them to me at all!” She shook her head as she lowered the young girl to the ground, clearly considering something that she hadn’t prior to that moment. But they would have plenty of time to take a trip down memory lane once they were inside of the house. The rain and wind were picking up speed, and it was starting to become unpleasant to stand outside in the cold, unwelcoming conditions. “Should you ever wish to stop by, my doors are always open to you, dear girl. Please know that.”

“Believe me, aunty Magnolia, I would never doubt that for a second. And now that I am old enough to make my own decisions, one of the first will be to visit you. I’m sure mother will be thrilled.” She shook her head, the sass in that statement evident. She then gestured towards the front entrance, surging forward in a sort of gliding sprint towards the front entrance, the ground barely moving under her feet. It was as if she were a skipping stone, skimming over the surface of a placid lake. “Hurry, let’s get inside. I hear there shall be a violent storm soon. Best to not be caught outside in it if you can help it. I don’t exactly know of a spell that can cure the common cold just yet.”

She stopped for a moment, turning in the direction of the front gate as she flagged down the guards. “Briar, I haven’t the slightest idea what you're doing out here at the front gate, but thank you. Please go inside and get out of these awful conditions. As for you, Benson…” She glared at the other guard, the man seemingly feeling the weight of his impoliteness crushing him in earnest now. A thousand different variations of regret and nervousness gripped him tightly as he awaited her decision. “... I’ll let the injured party decide what will become of you. We told you to watch the gate and turn visitors away. We did not instruct you to be inhospitable towards them. That’s my mother’s job.”

He nodded low, clearly not looking forward to Magnolia’s decision. “Forgive me, Ma’am.”

For a moment, Magnolia shook her head as she turned towards him, folding her arms across her chest. So this was her decision, then? There were so many decisions she could make based off of that kind of gifted authority, but there was no need to be sadistic or blow things entirely out of proportion. He was simply an overly loyal employee who had gone a bit too far in regards to his assigned duties. It wouldn’t be right for her to lambast him over it. “As you were, then. Return to your post.”

The guard looked relieved to still have his job, and eagerly returned to his station, more than likely going over how he had managed to get himself into a situation like that over and over again in his mind. He needed to be more careful going forward. As the group approached the front steps, Vergil turned his attention towards her, peering over his shoulder momentarily at the guard as though he himself had considered further action on her part. “You’ve decided to let it go. What a waste of a learning opportunity for him.”

Magnolia smirked, a light chuckle emanating from her closed mouth as she snorted through her nose. Vergil wasn’t entirely sure what she was so amused about, but he had the feeling that he had missed something pertaining to this situation. She was crafty. It was entirely possible. He didn’t verbally inquire as to what was so funny, but he did give her a curious look as they reached the steps that lead to the front door. She picked up on this and shook her head, realizing that he had misunderstood her intention.

“Let’s see if he feels that way after he stands in the rain for a few hours. You might change your mind, in that regard.” She said dismissively as they approached the front door, waiting for Hydrangea to open it. One could only hope that having spent as much time as he probably had around her family would have taught him not to get smart with strange women, but apparently, that was a lesson that had to be reinforced. “It won’t harm him, but it will absolutely give him time to reflect, and perhaps he will undergo an attitude adjustment.”

“Or perhaps he will be struck by lightning, and your dear uppity sister can hire a less openly hostile gateman. A net gain either way.” Sirrus said with a slight smirk as he passed her by, attempting not to laugh. His body had healed for the most part, but that didn’t mean that his ribs didn’t still hurt like hell whenever he laughed. It was best that he not push himself any further than what was necessary considering the state that he was in, even if he was positive that it probably wouldn’t do much.

A moment later, Hydrangea held out both hands and pushed them towards the front door, a loud clicking sound echoing through the space they occupied as the front doors flung open to reveal the entryway of the vast structure that they had been given such a hard time about entering. The young girl then turned to face them, a bright, proud smile on her face as she stepped back into the doorway and disappeared, only the sound of her voice remaining as the space occupied by the doorway rippled like water and overtook her.

“Welcome to Château Ludwig! Make yourselves comfortable. Tea will be out shortly.”

(-~-)

I hope you liked this chapter! This was a blast to write! I’ve been wanting to get a little time for Magnolia in, and I think this was probably the best way that I could accomplish that! Your comments on the last few chapters have been amazing, and they always make my day when I read them!

The cover art will be done within the next week, and then I will be getting the first test prints in to take pictures of! I hope you end up liking it!

#V #Vitale #Devil May Cry 5 AU #My Post Devil May Cry 5 AU #Magnolia #DMC #DMCV #DMC5 #Devil May Cry #Post Devil May Cry 5 #Devil May Cry V

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iphoggy-bloggy · 7 years

Text

What Jonny told Thommy about Palestine

Thom Yorke finally broke his silence on Radiohead's gig in Tel Avivi after being petitioned to respect the boycott of Israel by various cultural luminaries, whom he clearly respects, such as Roger Waters (with whom he shares a producer, Nigel Godrich) and Ken Loach. But his response doesn't quite cut it. On various levels.

He's clearly feeling annoyed - the main sense we have from the interview he gave to Rolling Stone is how pissed off he is at all attention. It's almost as if this in itself is objectionable. I guess, being Thom Yorke, he's become so used to people agreeing with everything he says, it must come as a shock. Well we're sorry you're feeling a bit miffed, Thom, but we respectfully think this issue (ie millions of Palestinians feeling slightly more miffed by things like their land being taken away) is important enough to risk hurting your feelings.

Drilling deeper into Thom's grievances, he says it's disrespectful "to assume we're being misinformed or that we're so retarded we can't make these decisions ourselves." Well, firstly, in the absence of any previous statements, "assume" was all we can do. But now you have spoken, let's see if what you say indicates you are indeed well informed and have made a decision yourself.

On the first question, in this interview he expresses no view on the political situation and exhibits no knowledge about it. What does he think about Israel's continued building of settlements in occupied territories? Or the UN's recent formal classification of Israel as an apartheid state? We can only assume he is indeed misinformed until he proves the contrary by putting forward some arguments. The best he can do is: "The person who knows most about these things is Jonny [Greenwood].", suggesting Yorke hasn't actually made the decision himself after all.

Relying on others for his views seems to be something Yorke makes a habit of. About the boycott itself, he says: "There's an awful lot of people who don't agree with BDS". And he gives JK Rowling as an example. At least she explained why she holds this view. We’re still waiting to hear your view on this, Thom. Many people say the cultural boycott of South Africa played a major role in ending apartheid in that country. Any views on that, Thom?

Another of Yorke's objections is that people have been criticising him in public. As a cultural icon in the public spotlight for the past 20 years, this is somewhat surprising. Surely he's used to people talking about him and Radiohead without asking permission first? And in any case, we have respectfully been listening to his views about other people (political and otherwise) in the form of his artistic expression for many years, why can't we turn it around? And I would love to pick up the phone and call you, Thom, or perhaps DM you, but somehow I doubt you would reply.

The impression we come away with from this interview is of a spoilt brat whose views have always been so unquestioningly admired for so long he has forgotten what it is like to have someone show him approbation. Nor does he sound like a cultural thinker. Forceful and passionate, yes, but very limited when it comes to arguments and knowledge. On the previous seven times Radiohead have played Israel, did he once go into the occupied territories to see the situation for himself? It sounds like he knows very little about Palestine - other than what he has been told by Jonny.

#Palestine #Israel #apartheid #occupation #radiohead #bds #boycott israel #cultural boycott

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texanredrose · 8 years

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Bees Schnee for the OTP meme

Okay, so, since no numbers were indicated, I went ahead and did all of them. Get ready for 3k+ words of headcanons, lol.

Who is the most affectionate?Yang, especially at first. Blake and Weiss are more apt to be affectionate in private and they gradually become more affectionate in public as their relationship progresses. Yang still holds the title as most overtly affectionate, while Weiss and Blake tend for more subtle methods.

Big spoon/Little spoon?Yang spoons Blake, Blake spoons Weiss, if they’re all sleeping on their sides, which is usually the case in smaller beds not designs to hold three people. In their bed, however, they usually sleep with Yang in the middle, Blake on Yang’s right, and Weiss on Yang’s left. Not only does it allow them to see both of their partners first thing when they wake up, but they can all touch each other, which helps them sleep. (It’s a bit inconvenient when Yang has to pee in the middle of the night, though. She usually wakes up and debates whether or not to wake up one or the other, and then they wake up anyway because she’s squirming trying to hold it in.)

Most common argument?Transportation. It stems from them wanting to make sure everyone is equally part of the relationship and no one feels like a third wheel, but long drives can kinda put a hamper in that, so their method of transportation becomes more of an argument than a simple rearrangement. At first, they use Yang’s bike to get around, and while Blake and Weiss have no issues with the bike itself- it is rather nice- using it is hard for the three of them. Early in their relationship, Yang got a side car so it could transport all three, but that still left one sitting in the side car while the other gets to ride on the bike. Weiss and Blake then want to get a car, but that turns into a headache seeing as they all have different tastes when it comes to vehicles. Eventually, Blake and Weiss cave and the triad get a black McLaren F1 with yellow and white racing stripes, which works for a while until the twins are born, and then the hunt for a vehicle begins anew.

Favorite non-sexual activity?Yang’s a total cuddle bug, Weiss likes playing with Blake’s ears and Yang’s hair, and Blake likes reading to both of them, especially when they’re sleepy. Together, they like watching old movies, putting them on mute, and then ad-libbing lines in an effort to see who can make the others laugh first. They usually making it to about the thirty minute mark before someone breaks and then they just riff on the flick for the rest of the night; helps destress after a mission or when things are looking dark.

Who is most likely to carry the other?Much to their chagrin, Yang’s the only one capable of carrying the other two without stumbling. Yang’s almost pure muscle and taller, so it takes a bit of coordinated effort to pick her up, but she can lift Blake and Weiss no problem.

What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?Blake’s are Weiss’ eyes and Yang’s smile; both are incredibly expressive, but it takes time to really get to know both women to understand and tell the difference between sincere emotion and a facade, as Weiss and Yang are prone to covering their concerns, though for different reasons (Blake has the same problem but her ears often give her away). Weiss’ are Blake’s hands and Yang’s shoulders; she admires the metaphorical and literal strength in both and associates her partners’ attitudes with those features, Blake often taking control of things (even if her definition of ‘control’ sometimes means ‘running away’ and Yang shouldering blame and concerns to protect those closest to her). Yang’s are a bit bittersweet- her favorites are her partners’ scars; they’re constant reminders of the lives Weiss and Blake led before they met and eventually started dating and while she’s grateful the events shaped both of them into strong, capable people, it’s also a constant reminder that she’s not going to let anyone else hurt them like that. Meanwhile, they tend to have the same #2 slot; Blake and Weiss can agree they are both huge fans of Yang’s arms, Blake and Yang adore Weiss’ hips, and Weiss and Yang love Blake’s legs.

What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?lol, This is kinda the plot for Partners, no? Anyway, in contrast to my Monochrome reply, I think they’d become extremely conscious of how much they interacted with each other. The protectiveness would still be present- Blake and Yang would get miffed with anyone disrespecting Weiss’ opinion or voice (within reason, of course, because Weiss does say some shit every now and again), Weiss and Yang would take any slight against Faunus personally (they’d handle it in their own ways, with Weiss staring fuckers down or chewing them out and Yang punching them through the nearest wall), and Blake and Weiss would not tolerate any disparaging remarks about Yang’s looks or intelligence (the only reason Neon walks out of the doubles round alive is because there’s too many cameras around)- but Yang and Blake might distance themselves from each other a bit and Weiss would hang out with Ruby more often. Everyone has their own levels of perception, so while Yang might spend equal time with Blake and Weiss, one or the other might pick up on her feelings, and the last thing she’d want to do is catch one’s attention without the other even suspecting, because that would make the whole explanation really awkward, and the other two feel the same way. All three of them would turn into awkward dorks around each other, and Blake and Yang would try to minimize it because they’re partners.

Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?For Weiss, Yang and Blake call her 'Princess’ because it does fit her personality quite well, but Ruby get credit for coining the name. They’d also call her something more intimate in private- like 'Snowfall’, something that acknowledges her family heritage and all the baggage that comes with it while affirming that it doesn’t change their affections for her and she still has the power to affect how that heritage is viewed. For Blake, 'Kitten’ is used only in private and 'Blakey’, though most often by Yang while Weiss prefers 'Love’. In the same vein, 'Kitten’ acknowledges Blake’s Faunus heritage and both of her girlfriends are careful that the moniker is only associated with expressing their deep affection while 'Blakey’ and 'Love’ offer the bit of discretion Blake is accustomed to maintaining. For Yang, there’s a lot, and they’re usually jokes of some manner- 'Pheonix’ for when she does something self-destructive but miraculously walks away from, 'Dragon’ when her temper gets the better of her, Weiss will use 'Muscles’ when she’s spending more time talking and less time accomplishing a task, that sort of thing. But, in an intimate setting, 'Sunburst’ and 'Fallen Star’ are often used, both referring to Yang’s abundant energy and bright personality.

Who worries the most?Weiss, of course. She has two separate lists for Blake and Yang alone, and then another list for when their together of all the things that could happen. Without them knowing, she often inspects their weapons and gear herself, just to put the doubts at rest.

Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?Blake. It makes her happy to remember little details like that whenever she’s down or missing the others, so she pays close attention whenever they go out to eat; she even notices when they use salt, pepper, or spices on which meals or which moods correspond with different types of food. She’s also got a hidden stash of Atlesian chocolate and those fireball candies for whenever her partners need a little pick-me-up.

Who tops?They take turns, to an extent, but it typically goes Weiss, Yang, Blake in terms of most dominant. Blake prefers relinquishing control to her partners, Yang’s more than willing to put her strength to use or keep herself still to aid her partners, and Weiss most often just wants to personally ensure both of her girlfriends enjoy themselves.

Who initiates kisses?At first, Yang, purely because she’s just too damn happy to have both Blake and Weiss with her that she can’t always control the impulse. Blake quickly matches her, with Weiss growing accustomed to it slowly. Still, even in the later parts of their relationship, Yang’s the most prone to go for a kiss without prompting.

Who reaches for the other’s hand first?Blake. She’s most inclined towards discreet methods of showing affection in public, so she’d be the first to interlace fingers. Weiss might beat her to the punch in private, though, and Yang would probably go for a kiss first instead.

Who kisses the hardest?Weiss, though it’s mostly because of the height difference. Blake and Yang like to tease her sometimes, so she’s gotten into the habit of pulling them down to her and giving them ample reason to not pull away. It’s quite effective.

Who wakes up first?Blake. The superb hearing in her Faunus ears means she’s a light sleeper already, so she usually is the first one to wake up while the other two try to stay asleep. Unless she’s exhausted, of course. Still, she’ll feign being asleep until one or the other wakes up and sometimes until they’re both up; she tries not to monopolize the first good morning kiss, though it is tempting.

Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?Weiss always advocates for sleeping in when there aren’t classes or other pressing matters demanding their attention that day; she’d much rather stay in bed with her girlfriends than deal with the outside world, and there’s enough things demanding their presence independent of one another that any stolen moments they can get together is worth holding onto, in her mind. However, if they have to get up for something, Yang’s usually the last to relent while Blake plays the middle ground, usually striking a compromise to keep them all happy without making them late.

Who says I love you first?Yang. Blake and Weiss have their own personal issues with expressing affection but, if there’s one thing Summer’s sudden death and Raven’s abandonment taught her, it was that you can’t tell the people you care about how much they mean to you often enough. Especially with how crazy their lives have been, she wouldn’t want to risk Weiss or Blake ever doubting how much she cares about them, so she’d say it often and sincerely. She tries to downplay how much the lack of reciprocation affects her- she understands that both of her girlfriends need time to really be comfortable with saying those words- but she would still tell them she loves them often, just so they never have to question it.

Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)Yang; she used to do the same for Ruby when she was younger and some habits are hard to break. She also gets a kick out of watching her girlfriend’s reactions. (“C'mon, Blakey, don’t frown! You can’t have tuna every day! But if you eat all your lunch, you’ll get a nice dessert tonight! ;)” “No, Princess, you don’t need a knife and fork to eat a PB & J, just use the napkin or ask me to clean you up! ;)” Blake and Weiss try to deny how much they enjoy Yang’s teasing.)

Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?By default, Yang; Ruby is part of their team, after all, and would be the first person informed about their relationship. Between Blake and Weiss, though, Blake manages to get a message down to Menagerie… and then further explains herself two weeks later when Ghira and Kali show up, because like hell they’re just going to wait at home now that they know a) where their daughter is and b) that she’s dating.

What do their family/friends think of their relationship?Yang’s family is entirely supportive, though Qrow has some misgivings about Weiss. He mostly keeps them to himself so Yang can be happy; his beef is mostly with Winter, anyway. Taiyang’s warily happy that Yang’s found two people she cares so much about. He’s concerned she’ll make the same mistakes he did, despite their differing circumstances, but let’s her do it anyway. Only way she’ll really learn if things go south is to not interfere at all, he figures, and he treats Blake and Weiss like family until that worry fades away completely. Blake’s family is split at first; Kali is supportive but Ghira needs to be won over a bit. Honestly, Kali’s a bit too supportive and has to be told to stop with her 'suggestions’ while Yang gets Ghira’s approval after a bit of joking around and roughhousing and Weiss wins him over after the two butt heads over SDC policies- she turns out to be more progressive than he’d given her credit for, and manages to be both forceful and respectful, which will be needed when it comes to affecting change. Once he gives them the chance, Ghira becomes genuinely fond of Yang and Weiss, seeing as they both put in noticeable effort to make his daughter happy, and he welcomes them with open arms after that. Weiss, on the other hand, only has Winter for support; her father rejects the relationship entirely, her brother isn’t about to get in the middle of this, and her mother… yeah. We’re not going into that. Winter, at least, is glad her sister’s found her own way in the world that seems to be leading her to happiness. She could do without being indirectly related to Qrow, but, she’s willing to make that sacrifice for her sister.

Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?Weiss. She didn’t get a chance to at the school dance so, after one off hand remark about ballroom dancing, takes it upon herself to teach Yang and Blake a few different styles. She usually sings along with the music, too, and they eventually create their own style of dancing that works for most waltzing songs but allows all three of them to move together, and they’ll hum along with the music.

Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?Yang, mainly thanks to Summer and Ruby. She teaches Weiss and Blake some of Summer’s and Taiyang’s old recipes but usually takes on cooking duty herself; it’s as relaxing as going a few rounds against a heavy bag, but with a better result. She’s also more than a little proud when she can get one or both of her girlfriends to moan without even touching them, and good food is one way to make that happen.

Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?Again, Yang- it’s like breathing for her- while Blake is prone to quoting her *ahem* romance novels. Weiss tries and usually fails to land the delivery just right, but Yang and Blake both think that’s too damn cute, so it works in her favor.

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?Weiss- and she’s gotten better at using the smallest amount of words to produce the maximum effect as time goes on. Yang’s too loud to try and Blake’s more tactile- a brush of her fingertips as they pass is more her style.

Who needs more assurance?All of them need assurance, for varying reasons, but Weiss needs slightly more. While she always expected, to some degree, that her relationship with her father would deteriorate at some point, losing the security of her family is still a blow that shakes her up. Add to that how often she feels like she’s playing catch up when it comes to expressing her emotions, telling Blake and Yang how much she cares about them, and allowing herself to be open and honest with them- it’s only natural for her to doubt her choices and actions, second guess herself, and have the worst outcomes plague her mind.

What would be their theme song?“Under Pressure” by Queen and David Bowie. (Yang will often joke that “3” by Britney Spears is their favorite song; Blake usually laughs while Weiss rolls her eyes and calls her crass.)

Who would sing to their child back to sleep?Weiss usually sings to the kids to get them to sleep; Yang’s singing usually makes them too hyper to go to bed, because she picks high tempo, driving rock songs instead of lullabies. Blake only sings very rarely, so they end up listening too intently to be lulled to sleep.

What do they do when they’re away from each other?Weiss tends to either spend her time practicing her combat technique or scrutinizing the business news but, when she’s looking to relax, she’ll put on some classical music or an old movie to unwind. Sometimes, Neptune will come over and they’ll joke about who’s more pretentious- the characters in the movie or Neptune himself- or they’ll mock depictions of stereotypes together. Blake usually reads, either at home curled up in her favorite chair by the window or down at the park, sitting in a huge tree and occasionally people watching. Every now and then, she and Sun will grab a meal to catch up or volunteer down at a homeless shelter. Yang goes out for solo rides on Bumblebee or takes a round with a heavy bag, depending on her mood. Otherwise, she and Nora will go clubbing just so they can be loud and have fun. If one of them’s busy and the other two are free, Blake and Weiss will usually find a book shop where Blake can find a new book and Weiss can read the paper, Weiss and Yang often play video games either head-to-head or cooperatively, and Blake and Yang go for a run.

one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heartIn any universe where Yang loses her arm, she’ll feel guilty whenever holding/hugging/touching her girlfriends, because only one of them can feel her at any given time; the other just has her prosthetic, which isn’t the same. It really impacts her self image and her perceived worth as a good girlfriend to both of them, something that takes years for her to fully comes to terms with and tears her apart emotionally until then.

one headcanon about this OTP that mends itBecause of the way their respective histories have shaped them, all three understand that loving someone else- or two someones- means accepting the present and the past in order to build a future together. It’s an all-or-nothing package. Regardless of what each has individually lost, there’s two people who care about them, and those feelings are returned. It doesn’t replace what was lost but what emerges is all the stronger for it.

#Bee's Schnee #TRR asks #meme thing

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