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dazzasarchives · 1 year ago

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So I have recently decided to go about and read Marvel Comics in some form of chronological order. ( I'll leave a link to the website I'm using to undertake this task at the bottom.) I will also give my thoughts as an amateur comic enthusiast, on the comics that I have here as well as hopefully some helpful information. Speaking of helpful information before I continue I'll also state that the Marvel Universe timeline is on a sliding timescale, so some historical mentions and references should be viewed differently such as the name of the President of the United States and so on. Also the timeline is roughly that every ten ish years of comic publication could be deemed as a year within the Marvel Universe. Of course there's exceptions, there's always exceptions. Anyway I've decided to start with the Silver Age, which for a long time has been the birthplace of the main Marvel 616 Universe. With starting with the Silver Age then that Means that we start with the very first Fantastic Four Comic.

The comic stars the "First Family" of Marvel comics, The Fantastic Four. Which act as the first team and first four heroes introduced to us the readers. Despite that canonically there are other heroes within this world from ages past. The Fantastic Four consists of Four members, Mister Fantastic ( Reed Richards), Invisible Girl ( Susan "Sue" Storm ), The Human Torch ( Jonathan "Johnny" Storm ), and The Thing ( Benjamin "Ben" Grimm ). It is written by Stan Lee ,and penciled by Jack Kirby.

The comic starts off showing us our heroes using their newly acquired powers before showing us their origins. Which we find out was caused by them going into space and then being blasted by cosmic rays. Though this does have some slight changes later on due to the sliding timescale. Their spacecraft ends up crashing and the Four members land safely although they do have a freak out over their new abilities. I mean hey so would I if I caught on fire and could fly or turn invisible. Anyway the group is then forever changed, they also give themselves their superhero names, which reminds me of when I was in college and had everyone call me Smurf because my hair was blue and I didn't want to be called Sonic and have to run around everywhere. Right sorry back to the story, after this the Fantastic Four is born.

Anyway later on the Fantastic Four hear of these massive sinkholes that have been dragging items underground. There's also these massive creatures that come from the massive sinkholes and terrorize the surface world. Well we come to find out that all of this, is the devious plan of the Mole Man ( Harvey Elder ). I also have the names of his monsters, I love that Marvel Fandom wiki included these guys. We have Giganto, Tricephalous, and Rock Monster Guardian ( Ugu ). We also get a brief backstory of the Mole Man. Essentially he got made fun of a lot and then went cave exploring before being trapped in the caves, just goes to show don't make fun of people. Anywho, The way the Mole Man is defeated is very anticlimactic Reed and the Mole Man face of in a stick fight, but then Reed just picks him up and carries him away.

But then even after Reed grabs onto him as the tunnels begin collapsing around them, Reed let's go of the Mole Man, so he still got away in the end. That's really it for the first issue.

Alright let's talk about the characters of this story, sorry Ugu that doesn't mean you, first let's start with our main man himself Reed Richards.

I don't mind him all that much in this comic, I know personally I have never been the biggest fan of the Mister Fantastic or the Fantastic Four in general but in this issue he's ok, I don't mind him, but I definitely do not believe that he is the smartest man in the world.

Anyway on to our second hero, the Invisible Girl.

What can I say about Sue Storm. She turns invisible I guess. I'm so glad I have future comic knowledge of her otherwise I'd ask what the point of her character is, granted I am aware this comic came out in 1961, so they weren't really sitting at a table discussing to themselves, how can we make the Invisible Girl cool? As of right now she's not my favorite character,but I can't wait for that to change because I know it will.

Now for the hothead himself, the Human Torch.

When I was younger I loved the Human Torch, which yeah that's his role he's basically the younger groups character, the one they can associate with. I'm older now and honestly I can't really stand Johnny. Again like his sister I know this will change in the future, I just get annoyed with him, though on a good note I think he's at least the second strongest member as of right now.

Now for the strongest member of the Fantastic Four, The Thing.

Honestly I love the Thing, he's big, he's sassy, and I can't help but feel bad for him. He's essentially the joke of the group but he's super strong, I just feel bad because everyone sees him as a monster but not me no siree, I like my big pile of orange rocks. So far he's my favorite member he has the most use, and is definitely without a doubt the strongest member.

Now for our Antagonist the Mole Man.

What can I say about the Mole Man. Honestly a weak first villain. He doesn't do much, gets beaten in a stick fight and then just slips away. I'm amazed that he's become a mainstay in comics and is still a villain in recent issues.

Anyway that's me talking about the Fantastic Four Series 1 Issue 1. It was an ok start to the Marvel Universe I can't wait to see where it goes from here, until next time. Excelsior!

The site I've been using to read Marvel comics chronologically:

Also the art depicted on this post is not mine and does belong to Marvel Comics. I'm not that good of an artist to turn an arm into a lasso

Also if you would like to continue the story in Chronological Order follow this link:

#marvel #fantastic four #mister fantastic #invisible girl #the thing #the human torch #mole man #marvel comics #comics #comic books #marvel universe #flame on #earth 616 #marvel 616

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bunny-jpeg · 11 days ago

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men and their power

toto wolff

tags: smut/pwp, assistant!reader, age gap (20s/50s), power dynamics, lingerie & gifts, big cock!toto, doggy style, (threats of) baby trapping, dark-ish themes, oral sex (reader receives)

a/n: happy birthday, toto wolff!!

being the assistant of toto wolff was a tiring job, but it wasn't a thankless one. despite toto's stubborn nature and his capacity for anger, it was a job you quite enjoyed!

you got to see the world, work within a sport you loved and feel fulfilled with your line of work! what more could you want? except you were certain of one thing.

your job description didn't include "sleeping with your boss".

"mister wolff." you swallowed as you picked up the bra out from the box. it was light grey in colour, almost a blue-grey. it was made to fit you. after all, toto had all the information on you he could get. he knew you painfully well, every little detail was accounted for. from the moles on your back to of course, the size of your breasts. toto was detailed oriented that way.

you felt your boss' hands on your shoulders and his voice was low in your ear, "put it on for me, my prize."

you replied, "doesn't seem like the uniform." and you picked up the panties as well and felt a tightness in your throat. these looked expensive and knowing toto they were expensive.

toto's hands lingered down to you hips and he held onto you tightly, "hmm,i'd say it would be. my assistant should only be dressed in the best, don't you think?"

"sir." you moaned as you felt his lips on your neck. you knew this was wrong. but you couldn't deny toto anything. for the sake of your job that meant wearing toto's gift.

toto held onto you tightly and pressed his clothed erection up against your lower back. it didn't help that your boss had a huge cock, rumor said he left every virgin in vienna with a sore cervix. and even though it was a dumb rumor. it still left your stomach in knots. he had left you bruised before. over eight inches and he knew how to use it. age and experience taught the team principal well.

he liked when he could press his hand into your middle and say that he could feel himself inside of you. he liked when you struggled when he pressed on you. he made a displeased noise then said, "that is no way to thank me, treasure." he held onto you a little tighter, "do i need to teach you how to be a little more grateful?" his tone was nearing a dangerous territory in your ear.

he could be dangerous, he loved pretty things to sink his teeth into. especially assistants who always got his morning coffee exactly how he liked it. little things in skirts with high ambitions. he liked to bruise them, ruin them, make them gasp and moan for more. it was cute, all that power and yet toto still had a craving for delicate little things. things he could break and mend back together.

you said, "i love it, sir." you loved your job. but sometimes you forget how scary it could be. he was much older than you with heaps more power. you were in no position to make demands, you had to say yes to him. preferably with a please at the end.

toto smiled, "put it on. we are not on the track anymore, you can take off the uniform." and while you would've gone to the bathroom to change. toto made you strip down in the bedroom then re-dress in the lingerie.

you stood there in the bra and panties, you felt toto's hungry gaze on you. his dark eyes filled with a lust for you. you wanted to cover yourself up, but if you did that. well, it would just spur toto on to tie you up. and you didn't want your wrists rubbed raw because of his leather belt.

toto had a bit of a mean streak in him. he loved watching you squirm under him. and as his dutiful employee, you got the most attention from him. any sexual fixation he had was taken out on your poor throat or pussy.

"does it look alright, sir?" you swallowed, you looked down for a brief moment until he said your name and you looked back up to him. you shifted on your heels a little.

toto stepped forward and reached for your hips. he held onto you and replied, "i'm debating if i should be tearing this off of you or not. you look divine." then leaned down to kiss you on the cheek. he let out a soft groan and you felt a wobble in your knees.

"don't tear it, sir. it's expensive." you pouted and held your gaze at him, "it would be a waste."

toto chuckled and said, "oh, little one. my treasure. my little assistant. just like i own you, i own that garment. so i can tear it as much as i please." then he grabbed the top hem of the panties and tore them down the seam at the side, "i'll simply buy you another pair."

sometimes you forgot that one didn't become a f1 team principal by being nice. toto made more money in a month than you'd see you a lifetime. of course he could simply buy you another pair, even if it was made of fine materials. the cost was nothing.

your eyes went wide in shock. your stuttered, "sir!" and your boss simply laughed and got down on his knees in front of you.

"i own you." he said, "isn't that right?" he leaned in to kiss your exposed cunt. then forced your legs apart to lap at the wetness between your legs. he heard you whine loudly and your voice got caught in your throat.

"sir! mister wolff!" with shaky hands you reached for his dark hair. you knew he dyed it, but there was no time to think about that. not while he was pleasuring you with his tongue. you whimpered, "please."

you knew this was wrong. there was something deeply wrong with this. tot was your boss, but you were standing there with your knees about to give him. as your much larger and older boss orally pleasured you. his tongue worked your achy cunt and it left you without words. it was wrong, yet so right.

he ran his thumb against your clit and you almost melted. your boss knew all the right places to make you feel the climb of pleasure through your body. "so well behaved." he said before you ended up on the bed. barely had enough time to get the nice bra off before he was undressed and in the bed with you. the bra was spared from ripping, but tossed somewhere you couldn't see.

he handled you with ease. got you onto your stomach and your hips raised to meet his cock. while being an assistant was hard work, you spent most of it on your hands and knees. with your superior's cock inside of you.

he sank his thick cock inside of you and you felt yourself cry out from the stretch. he now fit perfectly inside of you and your mouth was agape as you squirmed under him. your face pressed into the pillows. tot used his size to keep you pinned against the lavish bed.

"ah, sir!" your back arched as you felt him pound against you. you grasps the covers under you. your tone got tighter as you said, "ah, please! please!"

toto felt his ears grow hot from the intensity of your sounds. your boss knew your body perfectly, he knew how to make you feel intense pleasure even better than you knew how. no one understood your body the way he did. toto knew how to touch you, rub up against you, fuck you. and each time he did, you felt an inferno in your gut. he fucked you with a fever and it left you hot all over. he liked to watch you drive you crazy with lust, mewling and crying out for him.

the bed rocked against the wall. he moved you how he wanted you. he used your body how he enjoyed it, the pleasure sparked in his blood. he said lowly as you remained pinned under him, "maybe you need to be busier? hmm?" he then suggested, "maybe a baby at your hip? you take care of me and my child?" his words made you gasp and squirm more.

"please, toto." you whined as you were fucked into the hotel bed. it was hard to form proper words where he was so deep inside of you.

"you don't have much of a choice do you? you are mine and if i want you to have a baby then you'll have my baby. i know you want it. to care of my child. be a mother to them." he continued to move. his pace was aggressive and it left you panting.

you knew you should've ran. you should've told the fia or some other governing body. but deep down, you loved it. you enjoyed being the center of toto's world. the act of him ruining you for any other man.

he continued to thrust and enjoyed the feeling of your tight cunt around him and the symphony of sweet noises. your pitiful moans, he could feel the strain in his body from his heavy movements. he had a single focus, to put a baby in you.

"my treasure." he purred.

"please, toto. oh, fuck." you dug your feet into the bed as you tried to not lose all sense of control. you sounded so needy, you sounded like an angel and you drove toto to near climax.

it didn't take much longer for you to finish. climax hit you and it made your mind go blank as toto continued to fuck you. he needed you. you gasped loudly as his pace quickened and he soon finished inside of you.

you relaxed against the covers and let the heat radiate through you. you made a soft noise. toto adored it. he adored you in return, he pulled his cock out of you before he pulled your hot body against him.

"see, good girl." he said, "i knew you'd behave for me. take me so well. that is why i hired you. and why you are going to be the mother of my children." he said with a bit more affection, but it still made your stomach twist.

you couldn't form words, but laid in his arms. his protective, almost possessive grasp on you. this was your boss, that had fucked the sense out of you. you wouldn't consider you job hard all the time, but it could be physically demanding <3

#bunny writes #reader insert #formula 1 #formula one imagine #f1 smut #formula one fanfiction #formula one smut #f1 x reader #formula one #torger toto wolff #toto wolff smut #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff fanfiction #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff #mercedes racing #mercedes

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brynn-lear · 9 months ago

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When The Cypress Tree Wilts [Yandere!Kamisato Ayato x Reader]

Prompt: Kamisato Ayato, the sole survivor of Teyvat, struggles to cope with grief. He finds solace in the company of a fellow survivor, (Y/n), on the Astral Express. Although the two came from different universes, with him being a fictional character on (Y/n)'s end, he had grown fond of them. Perhaps too fond for Mister Yang's liking. He has seen this story played out once already. [Dedicated to @jessamine-rose]

Content Tags: (light?) yandere themes, major character death, we ain't trusting getting roses again after this one boys

For twenty-seven years, the cypress tree stood alone. Its branches, exhibiting complete fortitude to withstand erosion, have been a home for many animals. A guardian of many and a home for herons. It's no stretch to say its artistic seriousness made the Cypress tree the Warden of the Forest.

What happens, though, if the forest catches fire? What happens when everything it held dear—all the pillars ingrained in the firmest soil—is reduced to ashes in a single glance? When the forest's life-loving temperament disappears, just what is left of the guardian tree?

There's only one answer: the Cypress loses its Inazuman function. Harmony, balance, and peace wither away from the tree's symbolism. All that's left is the alternative Enkanomiyan myth: cypress trees must only be planted as a mourning tradition.

The Warden of Death...

Kamisato Ayato closed his eyes, making his umpteenth attempt to breathe steadily.

He sat upright on one of the Astral Express's couches. It's been more than eight months since he had found himself as the sole survivor of his world. So far, everything that had been told to him had been unreal.

Gone were the clan, his retainers, and his dearest sister. None were left as he watched their remains swept by the wind. Memories of Ayaka's burnt hair and cheeks crumbling refused to leave his every waking moment. He tried desperately to hold on, but the ashes kept slipping through his fingers until his family's white heron was reduced to a lifeless husk. Her feathers were plucked too soon.

He cannot have her back. He cannot have his clan back. His world was forever unsalvageable.

That was his fate as the Remembrance's souvenir. He can carry the weight of survival while the memokeepers preserve Teyvat's memories.

But at least he has someone in a similar position as himself.

"Mister Yang," you called over the older man hushedly. Welt glanced at the mopping mess and knew just what you were hinting at. Better to alert someone who can assist him better.

"Are you alright, Mister Kamisato?" Welt asked, sitting beside Ayato. He passed his cane onto his other hand so he could pat his shoulder. Ayato only laughed stiffly.

Thankfully, it's not an entirely hopeless cause. There was, at least, a silver lining to make up for it. No matter how dim the glimmer was, he at least had the Express's understanding.

And yours as well.

Ab███████, h█ed his pl█as.

"—to, you can still think this through!"

"Stand back, Himeko."

Just like him, you lost your world, too. You came from a fabric of existence wherein he was deemed fictional. A video game called "Genshin Impact", as you called it. You were terrified when you discovered your universe crumbled because of some time-travel paradox. But in spite of your enormous losses, curiosity triumphed over fear. You would prefer exploring the galaxy than thinking about how much work you still need to do for your college classes.

But today? You rest. After all, the express is landing in Penacony.

While Welt did his best to provide consolation, you handed them warm drinks. Ayato gave you a gentle nod.

He gave it a quick sip. Unlike Himeko's, your brew was more tame. Not at all professionally made— it's everyday coffee— but that adds more to its appeal. Ayato politely wiped possible stains near his lips. You can't help but notice how his mole was placed below it.

He's definitely a video game character, that's for sure. They don't make people this attractive in your old world.

Just holding the coffee you made… feeling its warmth in his hands… It gave him strength to speak.

Ayato sighed. "Apologies, I simply… will take longer to recover my mental composure. I am not usually this easy to rattle or ramble often. I deeply apologize for the trouble I caused the express thus far."

"I do wonder if I had wronged the Gods. I committed plenty of misdeeds in the eyes of the Shogun, yet they were pardoned. But perhaps the Heavenly Principles…" He muttered, thinking he was inaudible. More than half a year without his retainers and constant troubles had dulled his vigilance.

Welt shook his head. "Do not be harsh on yourself by culminating these harmful… ideals, Mister Kamisato."

"I agree." You said. "At any rate, you'll end up miserable for the entire month if you keep overthinking what that Silver Wolf said."

His mood had been visibly dampened since Silver Wolf's last visit. She claims that he was "destined for ruin based on Elio's script" and that it was better he knew about it now rather than later.

Ayato looked away. "I suppose so… This wishful thinking brings me nothing but thoughts such as to save my one and only sister, with this pitiable strength— how can I recreate the past?"

Welt grew cold with mild horror. Then, he cleared his throat after a suspiciously long pause.

The past Welt knows is not the past he wants a repeat of.

"Why focus on that when the future awaits you?" He said, but with how the older man refused to meet his lilac eyes, there must be more he won't let on.

"Your reluctance… Does this have something to do with what the memokeeper previously stated?"

"...What Black Swan said?" You tilted your head.

Welt sighed. "So many things must be runnin' around your head... I don't usually encourage drinking, but maybe you should have a few shots later."

"I shall consider it, but I must know now, Mister Yang." He looked at him. "What did she mean when she said I was an alternate version of your acquaintance, Otto Apocalypse?"

Welt coughed up his coffee.

Re██y his angu█████ c███s.

"-to, don't do this. You can't bring ██████ back—"

“Your farcical tangents will distract me no more. Do not play parlor tricks with that cane of yours. My mind is sound, and my decision is final."

"..."

Ever since Ayato was dubbed as a new Nameless alongside you, he's been bombarded with both blunt and subliminal messages of his supposed "true" nature. One faction agrees he's an existence not meant to be trifled, while the other wants to cultivate him into a villain.

You don't know much about that. Unlike whatever hero's journey he had been experiencing— you're detached from trouble. Your new life was spent writing, dressing up with March, eating with Stelle, and reading through Dan Heng's data banks about constellations & other aesthetically pleasing biological entries. You were a quiet existence. Black Swan remarked you're amicable for someone who cannot return to normalcy. You embrace change far better than others.

But you think that's because there's enough grieving for the Express to carry; they don't have room to acknowledge yours…

"You're Kamisato Ayato, not Otto." You told him firmly. "Don't overthink what she said."

"It is not as if I do not know that, how—"

"No, there are no buts or howevers; that's final."

Ayato laughed softly, no longer tense.

"Understood. I'm your Kamisato Ayato, right?" He tilted his head like a dog.

"Yes, yes, you're our Ayato." You sighed.

He's a lot cuter when relaxed.

You shook your head.

No, better not let this develop into something else. You don't want to have a crush on a guy that's essentially no different from a flatmate.

Furthermore, you exclusively confide in him. You'd rather your relationship as each other's anchor remains the same in the future. After all, you're not the type to let everyone in the room know your baggage. So was Ayato, but... His trauma lends itself to the extremes.

While you were lost in thought, adorable footsteps strutted closer.

Angry, adorable footsteps.

"What are you guys doing drinking coffee?! The train is about to jump soon!!!"

Pompom huffed. They put their little paws on their hips, scoffing at you three. You apologized profusely, forgetting that your trip to Penacony was in ten minutes.

"Sorry, Pompom." Welt sheepishly said.

Ayato looked at Pompom earnestly. "So am I."

"Whatever, okay, but you better change later! You can't join a wedding wearing those clothes!!!"

You frowned. You were already dressed, though. You thought you already looked perfect for the evening. Maybe you should've tried harder... Perhaps you were too relaxed about this...

"Oh, but I'm sorry…" You told them, frowning.

Pompom shook their head, panicking. "Not you, (Y/n), you're always so harsh on yourself— you always know how to dress pretty. I'm talking about these two boys!"

They stared at each other before laughing awkwardly, provoking the conductor further.

Pompom growled, grabbing the broom.

"You know what?! Get off the sofa! Change! NOW!!!"

Abu████ce, stir this b███ft ████e,

"WHY DID YOU HAVE TO KILL HIM?!? HE WAS LIKE A BROTHER TO US!!!"

It's clear that someone isn't having the best time.

Penacony weddings are too lively for Ayato's tastes. But much like shadows, nobody can evade the bright lights.

He nearly tumbled when he saw you. By the looks of his pale face, the lively atmosphere had been draining him senseless. While he maintained his elegant demeanor when talking to Aventurine (and failing), you were refilling your cup at the food aisle. Once Ayato reached you, he desperately wanted to place his head on your shoulder.

“Please… lend me… Five…”

You smiled and opened your arms.

"Don't speak, I got you."

He leaned on your shoulder.

The five seconds you assumed were startlingly morphing into five minutes. You can't feign as a warm statue for that long. While you worry about your willpower, Ayato sank deeper into his thoughts to meditate.

From this angle, he looked like a resting cat.

"You okay, Ayato?"

"The SoulGlad, it's so…"

Ah, right. You figured he might've drunk.

"Not once had it been a passing thought that excessive alcohol and fire displays would be a common wedding practice. The culture shock is astounding." Ayato leered quietly. "Thankfully, I no longer care about putting on a social mask. I cannot stomach participating in copious amounts of… festivities."

You laughed. Is it bad you find his suffering entertaining?

"Is it so different from how they conduct weddings in Inazuma?"

"Hard to say… The Clan may be focused on cultural ceremonies, but I purposely avoided weddings. It helps steer clear talks of arranged marriages. I can only name Chisato's as an exception on top of my head." Ayato placed a hand on his chin.

He continued. "Extravagant weddings such as this had a decline for two years. The dismal lives of vision wielders immensely affected how much pyrotechnics and other displays were available. Any commonplace joy could be marked as vulgarity by the Shogun at any second... All those charges just for an insincere ceremony."

"I… See." You assumed the answer was a resounding no. "Sounds like you're against marriages of convenience."

Ayato pulled away, looking at you.

"Not entirely. I understand why it's a necessary evil, given our politics." He said. "But I still firmly believe that when there's true love, nothing should stand in its way."

His eyes reveal that he's starting to sober up. In Penacony, it was probably a beneficial phenomenon. Might as well give away hangover relief if you market alcohol as the icon of your dreamscape.

"(Y/n), this may sound peculiar, but I glimpsed at an apparel store nearby."

You nodded slightly. He knew you had an affinity for fashion. When you visited the Xianzhou Luofu, he mapped out stores that might interest you. Ayato likes the way you dress. Sometimes, he would even approach you for a consult.

"And? What did you see? Did you take a picture?"

He groggily nodded and pulled out his phone.

"Please, take a look."

…

You blinked, turning red.

"Ayato, these are wedding dresses…"

"I do know that, yes, but don't you believe some of these would suit you? Oh— this one is a particular favorite of mine."

…

He said it so casually that you were beginning to doubt if you were insane. Do friends casually daydream about another friend in a wedding dress? Is that a norm for platonic relationships? You looked away and gently pushed his phone away.

… You hate how you liked what he picked out.

And you know he noticed it, too. Cheeky bastard.

"Let's hold that thought for now."

"May I ask why?" He tilted his head, slightly pouting. "I think a traditional white wedding dress would compliment you. Are you, perhaps, seeing flaws I have missed?"

"Y-You're really not getting it, huh…"

Whatever was troubling you, he wasn't about to dissect it. His thoughts were reduced to simplicity that evening, just down to you look gorgeous tonight. The two of you should extend your visit to Penacony for much longer. It is always night here…

How unfair that you dressed so prettily; he wished it was for his eyes alone. The delicately lace-adorned pastel pink dress suits you well. It felt like a grave sin for him to keep staring at the delicate sapphire necklace resting atop your neck. Not to add, a few strands of your hair framed your face, and your hair was tastefully swept into a neat (h/c) bun. What completes the look is the strappy heels.

When will it be your wedding, (Y/n)?

Your face contorted. "How drunk are you?"

Ayato smirked curtly and shrugged back to what March calls his "nobleman smile", gazing at you intently. You weren't sure if he was listening to you anymore.

"Enough."

That was his reply, short and simple.

As long as your eyes mirror his, it's enough for him.

“LAAADDIEESSS AND GENTLEEEMEEENNN AND OTHER LIVING CREAAATURREEESSS!!!!”

A rather shrill voice shouted through a microphone. It's the wedding's host. From the volume, anyone can discern that it came from the event room. You placed your cup down. It's that time— noises from excited guests, lonesome people, in particular, were shared around. No one can miss their hands, which tremble with excitement.

You jolted.

Shit, that's Sparkle. You promised Stelle and March that you four would take BFF pictures in the costume photo booth before the final farewells. Something about silly masks and hats. Miss it, and you're guaranteed to enter the next fight without a shield. Worse, you might wake up with a bat-shaped wound on your head.

You grabbed Ayato and swerved past the crowd.

“(Y-(Y/n)?!”

Ayato's mind went blank.

You voluntarily held his hand. Gloved hands. Still, he thanked March that she gave him a pair for the occasion. His hands were sweating, and his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.

Public displays of affection are generally subdued in his old world. Handholding raises questions regarding those reared into nobility like he was. His upbringing was far from liberal, so he did his best to give his sister more freedom, yet he is not accustomed to this skinship.

He gripped yours back weakly. Ayato can't stop staring at your determined expression. He gulped. Can you sense it? Are you secretly enjoying this? Do you know what you're doing?

Can you feel your effect on him?

He's not just drunk.

He might be hopelessly in love with you.

Ayato grew hotter by the second. His breath was stripping away bit by bit. This epiphany was consuming him. He's been trying to deny it for as long as possible, but how laughable is it to do so when he had often pictured himself in peaceful household situations beside you? Can such desires be kept in the shadows, much like his Shuumatsuban work?

He wants you.

Kamisato Ayato wants you as his sole partner.

Wherever you're taking him, he'll follow you to the end, down to the last seconds of this script.

"THE BRIDE IS ABOUT TO THROW THE BOUQUET!!!"

Many lonely guests packed together like penguins. When the bride spun the bouquet around her palm, their reactions ranged from hopeful and cheerful to downright competitive and miserable. They thought a few flowers would ensure marriage, which is a little absurd, but who are you to spoil their fun? Simply because they obstruct your path does not warrant your discreet resentment—

Ayato stopped, halting you as well in the process.

"Ngh…?!"

You looked back, and such an act almost felt as forbidden as Orpheus' most egregious mistake.

If there was a semblance of variety in those women's faces, they were unified in one fell swoop. Their faces soured when the bouquet was passed down to its next owner. Worse, the flowers sat so beautifully in his arms.

That's right. His.

Those red roses…

"AALLLLRIIIIGHTTT! IT SEEMS MISTER KAMISATO GOT IT!!!" Sparkle cheered on. She had a crooked smile on her face. It didn't ring as malicious; instead, she was conflicted before she donned a playful mask. "And sheesh, while holding (Y/n) 's hand too— CONGRATS TO THE SOON-TO-BE-S!!!"

Ah, damn it. Instead of this, you wish people had applauded when you presented your thesis. No matter how crestfallen some were, they were at least good sports. They clapped and teased; you even spotted Himeko raising you a glass at your shared table, laughing. Beside her, Welt did you the courtesy of reminding you that you're hands were linked together. You gawked, pulling away as though Ayato's hand burned. Immediately, he cleared his throat and looked away.

To Ayato, this was the only sign he needed.

With enough time and effort, a leafless tree could still be saved, new birds could still migrate, and an abandoned forest could still be restored. Gradually, he was discovering a fresh cause for optimism instead of a substitute for the people he had lost. There he was, Kamisato Ayato, a hidden custodian of Inazuman traditions, with his feet rooted in a foreign land. Though not very stable, his groundwork keeps him on course.

If he could revive the Kamisato Clan on its brink, how can he not do the same for his life? It's just like what his late father said:

Fall down seven times, stand up eight.

As long as a hand still reaches out for him, he'll do anything to grasp it.

Unfortunately for you, it was yours that held his so tightly.

Hence, whether you like it or not, amidst the guests' congratulatory remarks and the bride's laughs, he had made up his mind.

Ayato will pursue you until you wear the gown of his dreams.

More people trailed behind Sparkle and the bride as they went down the stage and to Ayato. You made an effort to get in touch with him to return to your starting point. However, it was challenging, given the number of people around. To hear what bashful comments he said was an even taller order.

That was until the bride dragged her new husband towards you.

"Here, dearie, the garter!"

You blinked.

"What?"

"You know the tradition, bouquet, and garter— I know it ain't as exciting as a bouquet, but ya can't be a pair without it." The husband grinned. "C'mon, take it!"

Your eyes widened.

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly—"

"Aww, please, do you think we'll get in the way of love when we just got married?" The bride joked. Even though you don't know her well—you just know she's Stelle's friend—you didn't like how this sounded. "C'mon, take it! Don't make poor Mister Kamisato sad."

Did Ayato request this?

You looked back at him. He was smiling at his fellow guests.

He must've made a drunken joke.

"Alright, I'll have it." You'll be a team player, too.

Unbeknownst to you, Ayato's heart was brimming with joy as soon as you accepted it. You twisted the garter around your hand and tied it into a bracelet, and his eyes wrinkled. His face was beaming, and the guests warmly pointed out that it was definitely NOT the drink.

You laughed softly.

Maybe Stelle wouldn't get too angry after she sees these "loots".

Unfortunately, unlike the worlds you once immersed yourself in, your life was not a game. This second try was no exception.

There's a stark difference between the people he loves and himself, Ayato later found. The latter cannot sustain a better life for those he warded, while the former cannot attain the luxury of a peaceful death.

Readers would have gone crazy over how the author mercilessly punished and blamed the main character's dreams if his life had been a work of fiction. If it were genuinely one, he would venture to say that the systematic fate that everyone else was subjected to is the primary criticism.

His mother, his father, his sister, his clan.

And then you?

Ayato had already lost everything twice.

There's no restraint left for him to hold on to.

So…

"Mister Kamisato, please hear us out!" March begged, the shrill of her voice becoming hauntingly akin to a dull knife— repeatedly cutting through ears in prolonged agony.

Ayato scoffed. His blue locks framed his face as he gazed down.

He's heard enough.

Why shouldn't he challenge his fate?

Why shouldn't he challenge Elio's script?

"Whether I permit you or not, there won't be an intelligent word out of you."

No other voice came to disparage him. This silence was loud. As if a voice was missing. Ayato looked at the ground.

He had almost forgotten he had used his former "brother" as a sacrifice. Silently, he thanked Dan Heng- or perhaps Dan Feng- for all that he had done for him and his "bride".

This act angered the rest. His temporary family brandished theirs in unison, with Stelle moving to the front. His response greatly saddened March. But Mister Yang? He was frozen. He didn't seem to move an inch. The older man looked deep into his lilac eyes. There must be more he won't let on.

The past Welt knows is not the past he wants a repeat of.

But unfortunately, history is a vicious cycle— and it repeats itself.

He materialized his haran geppaku futsu, letting Dan Heng's blood drip while its azure glow shine bright. But what shone brighter was the cryogenic "coffin" behind him.

You may have lost your battle with this curse, but you have helped him not lose his.

You were looking out at a night with a full moon in your last moments. The pitch-black moon seemed to loom life itself. As you strolled alone, every step wet your feet, but there's a persistent sense that you might have been staring at your reflection the entire time despite the void's lack of offerings.

It's always night in Penacony. You have heard that innumerable times. Night never sleeps. The chitchat never stops. The tango doesn't halt. But time stands still for you as the rest of the world rejoices.

But Penacony was not your resting place. It was the Xianzhou.

How unfortunate that you forget that in your last moments. Mara has a knack for erasing the memory of its victims. The only solace that your admirer gets is that your previous recollections are of him, of you, and of the bouquet and garter you received.

At least before you closed your eyes, you thought of him.

Ayato gazed at your mara-struck face once more.

Beauty is eternal. Despite the chill seeping into your bones, your clothes were nothing short of ethereal. A traditional white wedding dress, floor-length with a fitted bodice and a flowing skirt, would've been given more justice if the wearer was not frozen in time. The laces and beadwork detailing were reminiscent of sakura petals, with a sweetheart neckline and cap sleeves.

You're holding a bouquet of roses mixed with sakura...

Just like you, Kamisato Ayato always had a good eye for aesthetics.

It's a shame the little life left in his eyes was wilting away.

It's a shame that this wedding never happened.

It's a shame you told him you needed more time to think.

It's a shame you're frozen in time.

However...

As long as a hand still reaches out for him, he'll do anything to grasp it. And Yaoshi has plenty to reach for.

With that, using the blood of the Vidyadhara he had slain, he summoned his new Aeon.

One that he does not particularly believe in. And if he had never placed his blind faith in the Shogun, he doubts he would do the same in Yaoshi.

So, Aeon of Abundance, with the former High Elder's blood on his hands...

Prove him wrong.

"Abundance, heed my pleas,

Repay my anguished cries.

Abundance, stir this bereft peace,

Awaken love from death's disguise."

Bring his soon-to-be Kamisato (Y/n) back to him.

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why-i-love-comics · 5 months ago

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Ultimate Spider-Man #8 (2024)

written by Jonathan Hickman art by Marco Checchetto & Matthew Wilson

#mister negative #kraven the hunter #kingpin #mole man #marvel #walter hardy #mysterio #martin li #wilson fisk #wednesday spoilers #spoilers #comic spoilers

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spaceratprodigy · 1 year ago

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Summary:

Charm's plan works like, well, a charm. Deacon accidentally reminisces.

oooohhhh boy i think yall r gonna like this one. we've begun to really Get In There with deacon...... i'll let u see what i mean by that. i hope u can still enjoy through the pain :P if ur willing, too, i'd really like feedback on this chapter too if u wanna drop a comment on ao3/here or hit me with some tags!!! but ofc, never feel obligated <3 thank u sm for reading and coming along to vault 81 with me.

and if you wanna start from the beginning, i got u!!! <3

#me earlier: IT'S FIC DAY IT'S FIC DAY IT'S FIC DAY #me immediately after reading: facedown on the floor with tears in my eyes #please I'm begging everyone to read my friend's beautiful writing especially if u love deacon #I literally can't reccomend wycb enough!!!!! it's so good!!!!!#oughhh andrew baby I need him in my arms I need him in my arms NOW #I knew mole rat disease was coming and seeing deacon's reaction UGHHH #seeing how much charmer is growing on him more and more and how much he cares about her and ugh EVERYTHING #ALL THE GOODS HE GOT AT THE SHOP #I'M SOBBING #AND THE ENDING #rolling back and forth on the rug weeping thinking abt my beloved best friend mister deadwife manpain #literally pierced me directly through the heart are you KIDDING me #oooo ooouuuoughoughhhgggggoougggh #god GOD #not being able to sleep and just thinking about her.... ohmygdoddo....#I'm being so Fine and Normal rn (lying)#god I love fic day #deacon #fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #friend writing

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comicwaren · 1 year ago

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From Fantastic Four Vol. 7 #015, “The China Brain”

Art by Ivan Fiorelli and Jesus Aburtov

Written by Ryan North

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maxybabyy · 1 month ago

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an unfortunate habit of sleeping with the elves is absolutely sending me im giggling so bad

happy holidays to you and yours, anon 😘

Inspired by the tags on this post.

Maxiel: Dirtbag Daniel, twinky Max, mature, 957 words

“It’s just two of you this year, but I take it that’s fine with you,” Seb says and shoves the suit into Daniel’s arms. Red and sweaty with an under-note of alcohol that probably shouldn’t be around kids. “Try not to fuck the elf, will you? Or at least don’t do it on company fucking property.”

Daniel tuts, “Learned from the best, mate.”

Seb shoots him a glare like the two of them didn’t make Christmas come early for Mrs. Claus three years ago.

“Just, please,” Seb stresses, and Daniel thinks maybe the promotion was a mistake after all. There’s too much tension in his shoulders now, wrinkles where they shouldn’t be. And there’s no fucking way Lewis will look at him twice if he loses more hair. “Anyway, it’s a guy this time, so maybe that will stop you.”

Daniel hasn’t really dabbled much with guys outside the occasional handjob when a threesome had gone wrong, so it does put a damper on his plan but Seb doesn’t have to know that. He could have changed in the past years, sucked a cock or fucked that twink who always blushes when he comes by to unclog his mother’s drain. Probably wouldn’t go over well with the mister, fucking both his son and his wife. But like, Daniel could have done it.

“And happy fucking holidays to you too, Sebastian,” Daniel tells him and pushes open the door to the changing room. “See you on new years.”

There’s the whoosh of the door closing behind him and then -

“Oh, hello,” someone says, halfway down the bench. “I am Max. I will of course be your elf.”

Daniel doesn’t move, stays rooted in his spot by the door as he watches Max stare up at him with a wide smile.

He’s young, way too fucking young, and that’s not usually a problem for Daniel, but this is just fucking indecent.

His face is all sharp angles, the recent loss of baby fat obvious, and the fatness of his lips makes him look obscene, tongue poking out to leave behind a sheen of spit.

It probably does nothing for how fucked up his lips are, cracked from the wind and cold weather, and Daniel has half a mind to throw him the menthol lip balm Michelle makes him carry around. Instead what he wants is to run his tongue over his lip, suck it into his mouth until whatever energy drink he probably gargled down before coming here is soaked into his taste buds.

Max is still bent over the bench, one foot shoved into the same sheer tights of green and red that Daniel has diligently peeled of the other elves before he fucked them. The same thigh-length dress has been thrown to the floor with no considerations for Max’s obvious dick-situation, which -

“No underwear mate?” Daniel blurts out.

He has a side view of Max, but it’s so fucking obvious how cheeked-up he is from the lack of boxers. The pale skin of his thighs and ass is dusted with fine, blonde hair, and Daniel is almost sure the carpet matches too.

Which, you know, still begs the question of why the cradle-robbee is fucking naked in a mall locker room.

“What?” The kid says and straightens up, both feet dropping to the ground. He looks ridiculous like that, Donald Duck-ing it in his Stanford varsity soccer shirt and nothing else. “Oh, you think -“

Daniel drops down to sit on the bench, hands held up placatingly, “Hey man, you do you, yeah? Just, we’re gonna be around kids, so.”

He’s not the one catching a case if his ass falls over. Seb’s gonna be livid, but that’s not -

Max hikes his shirt, bunched up under the swell of his pecs to show off a distressingly small waist, moles scattered across pale skin. His stomach is flat, trim muscles with just the tiniest curve to his hips, and even if it hadn’t been for the shirt, the yellowed knees are clear signs of his time on the field.

But that’s not -

There’s a band around his waist, just the tiniest slip of cloth over his dick, and Daniel almost thinks he’s wearing a thong, but matching pieces of elastic frame the swell of his ass on either side.

It reminds Daniel of high school varsity sports, of communal showers and coming down the drain when everyone but Scotty and him had left.

Because the kid is wearing a fucking jock strap, and Daniel doesn’t think his mouth has ever been this dry.

“With the tights, I thought of course it would be better like this,” Max says and turns around, shows off his ass and how his shirt falls over it. “Always you cannot see the lines like this.”

He pulls the fabric tight over his ass, and like, the kid is right, but like, Daniel is so clearly not looking for the seams of his fucking underwear like this. His hands twitch in his lap to keep himself from reaching out, touching the swell of his ass.

Daniel thinks, maybe if he curves his palm just right, he could probably hold a cheek in each hand. Fingers spread wide so his thumbs would fall just on the insides of his thighs, barely a slip away from being inside Max.

“Cool,” Daniel says hoarsely.

His knees creak when he stands up but he’s too busy staring at the kid staring back at him to care. So obviously looking for something else, something more, that Daniel doesn’t know what he is supposed to do but reach out and slap his ass.

Max’s breath hitches, the skin of his ass turns scarlet, and Daniel burns with it.

“Well done, kid.”

#maxiel #maxiel fic #max/daniel #I wrote this on the train home so there’s no betaing done #happy holidays #my writing

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