#she's technically showed interest already but in a very dubious way kind of like in the manhwa

[shidoukanae]

Things about Paris the manhwa just does not fucking talk about:

-The thing he’s shown smoking in the beginning of the story is kava which apparently he’s using to treat insomnia. Which therefore makes his comments about how Helene's visage keeps him up at night in the manhwa very interesting in hindsight (and might also make sense why he feels maddened by her existence)

-One thing the light novel talks about that the manhwa doesn't do a very good job of is that Paris awakening as a dragon basically isolated him from the rest of the world to the point it's part of the reason why he was driven so mad. He's instinctually repulsed from humans as they're not part of the same species as him (which is!! very interesting worldbuilding!!! especially considering he takes on a human form!!) and has been left feeling alone for so long that it's basically made him unable to view humans around him as real people to care about

-Fian's existence in Paris's life is a REALLY FUCKING GOOD THING FOR HIM. You can just feel how much happier he is now that there's another of his species in his life and the overprotective big brother vibes he gives off towards Fian is actually stupidly cute.

Also really found it interesting too that he wants to keep away humans from Fian and shows possessiveness towards Fian because Fian is a dragon like him (and the fact he sends Lyla to where Fian is after figuring out that Lyla is Fian's "fairy" really speaks volumes of how much he cares about Fian)

-it's interesting to note too that Paris makes some interesting commentary where he laments why the dragons of Kylon want to get along whereas the siblings of Belliana want to kill each other. Him wondering if the instinctual bond dragons share can be broken is also interesting...

-Paris: I do not care for humans i only care for other dragons and will protect Fian if I have to from everyone but the fairy he adores

also Paris: so hey there's this really pretty elf descendant gal and i kind of maybe keep finding my thoughts straying back to her...pretty sure this won't be a problem though owO

-Paris’s first meeting with Helene (aka, the moment where he fell for her in the original novel ig) is when he goes to steal the Silver Dragon’s Heart Fragment. Considering him doing that is how he meets Helene in the manhwa, I can’t help but wonder if he’s the only character who gets to remain consistent with his OG!self in going insane in both the manhwa/LN plots

-Paris just,,, randomly helps Lyla out when Tyrone is trying to get back at her for insulting him,,, and i still think it's a crime that this scene got omitted from the manhwa (as well as scene of him following Lyla out of curiosity and then connecting the dots of who she is and leading her to Fian the moment he realizes how special she is to Fian). He's a fucked-up character but dear god do I find it impossible to hate him when he continuously shows the level of complexity that i crave seeing in characters

-”...his feelings for Helene were more of an obsession born of genuine possessiveness than love” 

*looks at manhwa!Paris*

Yep that’s certainly him to a T. Sure hope he gets character development in the novel so i have hope he’ll get it in the manhwa and actually fall in love with Helene instead of,,, that

-really love that Lyla is still canonically spooked by him (she should be!!!). All these additional details about Paris also makes me D: bc jfc she is not kidding when she says he’s a psychopath and i hope her timeline’s version of him is a lot better of a person (esp to Helene if he indeed is still on track to being love interests with her like in the manhwa!!)

-”male protagonist from a broken family” DO TELL MORE LYLA DO TELL MORE. I know his father’s treatment of him is kind of fucked-up from the manhwa but i wanna know more about his home life im begging!!

-also Lyla calling him the male protagonist is really fucking funny to me. Lyla dear I think you meant to call him the antagonist holy fuck

-not sure if Paris is on track to being lovers with Helene in the LN's timeline but the connotation is there that he will. really interested to see how their relationship will progress in this timeline because genuinely the chemistry between them in the LN is different from in the manhwa

[howthebestwaslost-blog]

“Shall we go and see Charlie Chaplin? Shall we? Charlie Chaplin? Charlie Chester. Charlie Brown. No, he's fiction. Friction, fiction, fixing, mixing, Rickston, Brixton.”

(Edit downstairs)

Tl;dr theory: Rogue is fictional.

I’m sure this has been analysed to death already and I’m being slow again (not really keeping up with theories), but I couldn’t sleep last night and I had the thought stuck in my brain [warning: some meandering]

The whole episode felt like comfort food freshly flown in from the RTD1 era, with silly monsters, a good amount of running and an emotional punch, but for that reason also it felt to me a bit disconnected from the rest of the season (not in a bad way tho). There was also no Susan Twist apart from the portrait, so the season arc was pretty much invisible, too.

Except.

Except I think it could have been very much within the bigger arc that is still on. I think it’s already part of the next season arc. I’m going with the Mrs. Flood is the God of Storytelling theory, and she is fictionalising the Doctor’s whole life. That’s obviously where the fourth wall breaks come from (only she and Maestro did it iirc, so they must be on the same level, and the Doctor of course, but he’s the Main Character). That’s where the weird musical ending came in and the magical cross-walk. Now we have an episode simply called ‘Rogue’, introducing the Doctor’s new love interest [hand grabbing, “run”, the assembled hordes of- no wait] who gets sucked into another dimension saving the world - I get distracted - and his name is so on the nose. It’s like they got stuck finding a name for the character, proceeded to write the whole thing with this as a placeholder and then simply decided to keep it. There was enough lampshading with the dice to suggest a plausible origin, but come on. He is the rogue, he’s got his cool cluttered ship full of second hand tech, a semi-legal, morally dubious profession, he’s silent, he’s on his own, he’s got an awesome coat and a tragic backstory. He’s straight out of a story. He’s not an individual character, he’s a type (which is not to say that Jonathan Groff did not give him all the personality and realness and made him much more than just that, and I love him). Even the place, Pemberton (Pemberley/Bridgerton, obviously), is shamelessly fictional [edit: ok it’s not the place but the Duchess is at least Duchess of it, so it technically still works I think - see comments // also with ‘fictional’ I mean mashed up from two popular fictional names, I did not get out what I was trying to say at all - did I mention my lack of sleep]. But what if all this is part of a bigger design? I thought it was meant to be a cheeky, guilty pleasure kind of thing, a wink to the audience, saying “we know… but you love it too, don’t you”. But while we were all going crazy over whether or not Rogue is coming back, the Doctor wearing the ring and turning it on his finger in his closing scene of the finale had long been filmed. I think the episode is tied to the greater arc exactly by being so blatantly stacked with tropes. The Doctor meets a tall handsome stranger, perfectly suited for him. He inevitably loses him, but with an irresistible sequel hook. I think someone inside the show’s universe wrote this story just for him. And that’s why I’m sure Rogue will be back with a surprise.

Does that mean he’s another unsuspecting trap? Is he a real person literally doomed by the plot or an invention woven into reality? Is someone sending the Doctor through the drama and the emotions and the plot twists for their entertainment?

How much fan fiction did Rogue inspire in the first 24 hours?

*Edit

Holy shit I just realised

His new boss is really big on PAPERWORK 👀 📚

[angrylizardjacket]

guardian as a title {Machine Gun Kelly}

Summary: Casie's not technically your kid, but as you think about your future with Colson, maybe that won't always be the case.

A/N: 2512 words. I keep seeing fics about having a kid with MGK, but there's a lot of folks who can't have kids or don't want to have kids, but they shouldn't be excluded from having fluffy family fics!! And hes already got a kick ass daughter, so here. Written on my phone so potentially buggy. I just kind of love writing MGK who's so loving and protective of his daughter okay??

----

It took a long time to meet Casie. Colson had been hesitant; if you met his daughter, that meant whatever was going on between the two of you was real, was serious, and he'd been burned too many times to make that step so easily. Of course she knows about you, but she understands her father's hesitation, and the two of you unknowingly share patience, waiting for Colson to feel ready.

So you and he had been dating for almost a full year before you finally meet her. He picks a fancy restaurant for the three of you, and as you're making your way there, you realise you're actually nervous. By now you know where you fit in Colson's life; his friends like you, even his management team likes you, but Casie? You have absolutely no idea how she feels about you, but you know without a shadow of a doubt, that if she ends up not liking you, you can kiss any sort of future with Colson goodbye. To him, Casie hangs the stars in the sky, and he'd choose her every single time, not that you'd ever expect anything different. 

You get to the restaurant first, and the reservation is under his name, so you head on in and nervously start on the ice water they bring to your table. About five minutes later, you hear Colson call your name, and you look up from your phone, eyes wide, and stand abruptly. Casie looks nervous too, all of seven years old in a pair of dark blue jeans and a pretty blouse, and you smile at her as they approach.

"Hi," she's quiet, looking you over and evaluating you, and after a moment you offer your hand. She shakes it, grip surprisingly strong for a seven year old, and she tells you its nice to meet you.

"Its nice to meet you too, I've heard so much about you," you tell her, and she gives a little smile at that. Colson pulls out her chair for her and she thanks him. She's so proper, making a show of putting her napkin in her lap as you pour her a glass of water.

Its awkward at first, of course it is, but then Casie asks what you think of the album Colson's about to release, and the tension breaks. Your enthusiasm for his music goes a long way to reassuring her it seems, and its suddenly much easier to relax into the conversation. 

After dinner, you suggest swinging by McDonalds for milkshakes, and Casie practically cheers. You graciously slide into the back seat before any confusion arises, and when Casie's putting on her seatbelt, Colson looks over his shoulder to you and gives a warm, grateful look. Its going better than he'd hoped.

Its still a little strange; you practically live with Colson, though previously you've been crashing on a friend's sofa whenever Casie's come to visit, so its strange to wake up in his house on a Saturday morning, and find the two of them eating waffles and watching cartoons. It's… endearing. 

Casie's staying for two weeks this time, and on the third day of her stay, Colson's called away for a meeting about his album that was releasing in a few months. He says it'll only be a few hours, but you need to watch Casie. Its easy enough to keep her entertained; after lunch she pulls out her DS, and sits next to you, not really paying attention to the Spongebob rerun on TV.

"What are you playing?" You can't help but be intrigued at the strangely familiar music coming from the device. She turns the screen towards you and you see a little dog panting happily. Nintendogs. A wave of nostalgia hits you. "That game's so old," you say with a gentle smile, but Casie just looks confused. Its turns out to be Nintendogs + Cats, but the premise is still the same. She's surprised that you take such an interest in the game, and is more than excited to show you the tricks her dogs can do, and tells you very matter-of-factly that you can walk the dog to the dog park, so long as she supervises. By the end of the day, the two of you are acting like old friends, and Colson comes home to the pair of you curled up on the sofa trying to decide which dog she should get next in the game. 

She names it after you. Its far more touching than you realised it would be.

For the next few months, whenever she visits, she makes sure to tell you how Y/N The Dog is doing, right up until she gets Animal Crossing: New Leaf and lets Nintendogs fall to the wayside. 

You love her dad, and you take a genuine interest in her, and after several months and a few meetings over coffee, her mom trusts you to look after her when Colson's away doing press for his album and his new tour. Thats all that matters to Casie. 

You start to think the world of her; she's an incredible kid, bright and fun, but strangely sensible at times, and effortlessly cool. You find yourself thinking that if you were ever to have a kid, you'd want them to be like her, though you know children of your own aren't on the cards for your future. You'd known that for a while now, and so did Colson, though neither of you try to dwell on it much. 

Whatever chance Colson takes to support his daughter, you're there too. Recitals, public speaking contests, science fairs; if you're able to be there, you'll be there, making a conscious effort to befriend her mother along the way. Its clear you intend to stick around; you're good for Colson and you're good for Casie, and that's the mpst important thing.

As your year with Colson turns to two, to three, to four, the two of you start to consider what your future together would look like. 

He proposes quietly over dinner at the same restaurant he took you and Casie all those years ago. Of course you say yes. Of course you both FaceTime Casie the next day and she cheers so loudly her mother's dog starts barking in the background. 

"Can I help plan your wedding? Please, please, please?" She begs, and it hits that oh, that's right, a proposal leads to a wedding. You had been so caught up in the moment that the reality hadn't quite hit you. You were going to marry Colson Baker. Your smile widens at the very thought. 

"We'll talk about it when you're next here," Colson tells her with a grin, his hand in yours, fiddling with the engagement ring. Casie is over the moon, and her mother peers into the video chat wearing a warm smile, congratulating you both. 

After the call ends, you're quick to start peppering him with kisses.

"Do I take your last name?" You ask, breathless, straddling him.

"If you want," he shrugs, easy smile on his lips.

"Y/N Baker." There's a kind of awe in your voice as you say it, and Colson reaches out to cup your cheek in his hand, and you turn and press a kiss to his palm.

"Y/N Y/L/N-Baker," he suggests softly, and your expression lights up as you lean into to kiss him again, a giggle escaping you.

"I hadn't even considered hyphenating!" You say with delight. 

Casie helped pick the wedding colors, and was quick to start a pinterest board for inspiration, and seemed more excited than ever, bursting with ideas and always eager to help, always asking questions.

"So you're gonna be my step-mom?" She asks, and you make a thoughtful noise in the back of your throat. You're on your phone looking through wedding dresses, and she's playing Breath of the Wild on Colson's Switch, and she pauses the game to look at you. "Do I have to call you that?" She sounds dubious, and you laugh lightly.

"No way," you assure her, "only call me your Step-Mom if I start acting like a Disney villain, okay?"

Casie snorts a laugh and agrees, going back to her game, but something about the interaction sits with you. You keep thinking about it, keeping coming back to it, and you're not quite sure why until the day she breaks her arm trying to skateboard in the driveway. 

Thankfully its Summer and you're home, but Colson's on set filming The Dirt when you hear her start to cry. You get her to the hospital quickly and call Colson, and he says he's on his way. The nurse approaches you, looking at the paperwork you've filled out.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am," and that's never a good sign, "we really need a parent or legal guardian here to fill out this paperwork for her."

"I'm going to be her step mother in less than a month-" you tried desperately, giving a crestfallen look to where Casie was being administered pain medication. The nurse gave a deep sigh, and you already know that almost step mother isn't enough, "her dad's going to be here in fifteen minutes." You tell the nurse, and she gives a patient smile, somewhat reassured.

Colson comes in his full Tommy Lee getup, and rushes to wrap Casie up in as much of a hug as he can without hurting her. Its a heartwarming sight, and just having him there eases the rest of Casie's anxieties.

"They wouldn't let a doctor see me because Y/N's not my legal guardian," she whined, a little out of it from the pain medication, "she takes such good care of me; everyone here's a dick," she grumbles, and Colson laughs gently, sitting beside her in the hospital bed, casting you a grateful look. He won't admonish her on her cursing, not here, not now. There's a warm fondness blooming in your chest at her words, a protectiveness that you hadn't realised you'd been harbouring until today.

Casie stays in the emergency department overnight, with you and Colson by her bedside the entire time. You call to inform her mom, who's just glad that you got her to the hospital quickly. The next day, she's released with a cast and pain medication, and is entirely too grumpy for her usually sunny disposition, though she cheers up quickly when you tell her she can have whatever she wants for lunch and dinner.

"I'm gonna have a cast for your wedding!" She bemoans the next day, reading over the instructions the doctor had given you.

"And you're gonna look fantastic regardless," you tell her, but she just throws herself onto the sofa with a huff. Eventually she rolls onto her side and switches on the TV, occupying herself while Colson calls you into the bedroom.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed, fidgeting, looking surprisingly serious. When you enter, he looks up, expression pensive.

"Everything okay?"

"I just hate to see her in pain," he admits with a sigh, but you can tell that's not all that's on his mind. You won't push him, will let him work up to whatever he has to say, and so you just sit on the bed beside him and wrap an arm around him.

"So I've been thinking," he starts, "and Casie's been thinking it too, and we ran it past her mom, because we wanted everyone sort of on board before we brought it to you," and you're not quite sure where he's going, but your heart is in your throat, "and yesterday just made me think we should have talked to you about it sooner -"

"About what?" You ask, voice quiet.

"What do you think about becoming one of Casie's legal guardians?" A bright warmth floods through you at his question, and your at a loss for words, so he continues, "you do take care of her, and you know, you're family, and she adores you, and it means there won't be anymore shit like what happened yesterday at the hospital -"

"She'd sort of be my kid too?" You ask, quietly hopeful, and Colson goes quiet, takes in your smile and realises what he's implying. Slowly, he nods.

"She'd be your kid too."

"And she- you're all okay with this?" 

"Casie and her mom both love you, babe, you've made it clear that you put her safety first; her mom wouldn't have agreed otherwise."

"And Casie… wants this?" 

Colson nods sincerely, pulling you in close to him.

"What do you think? I know its a lot of responsibility -" he starts, but you cut him off, grinning.

"I'd kill for her; honestly I couldn't ask for a better kid," you tell him, and he's trying and failing to suppress and enormous grin.

"She's is gonna roast the shit out of me for taking so long to ask you," he admitted, and you snort a laugh, "I had to talk her down from a proposal of her own, though I will say, she designed a pretty sick banner. Ask her about it, I'm sure she'd love to show you." He chuckles fondly, before growing quiet and contemplative, "I'm so happy about this, babe."

"You should be," you huff out a laugh, but there's a disarming sincerity in his eyes when he looks at you.

"No, I mean it, before I met you, I was always so fucking worried that the girls I met would be put off by me having a kid, or they'd get jealous of the attention I give her, but she's my fucking daughter, man, and I knew if I met someone who loved her even half as much as I love her, I'd have hit the jackpot," he paused, giving you a warm, appreciative look, "and here you are."

"Oh," and you feel tears pricking your eyes, unable to stop smiling at the sentiment, "you're a good fucking dad, you know that?"

"I hope so," he says softly, before his expression brightens, "you wanna go tell her the good news?"

You head down to the living room while Colson collects himself, and you find Cassie drawing on her cast with sharpie. 

"Hey, you mind if I float you an idea?" You ask, sitting beside her. She hands over the sharpie and offers her cast for you to sign.

"Is it about the wedding?"

"Not really," you say airily, avoiding her intrigued gaze, "what would you say to me becoming your legal guardian?"

Casie cheers before you can even finish the question, and before you can finish signing your name, she's wrapping her good arm around you. 

"You're gonna sort of be my kid, is that okay?" You hear yourself asking, and she rolls her eyes, grinning.

"No, I'm cheering and hugging you because I hate the idea," she snickers, sarcasm dripping from her words, but she gives you a sincere smile, "dude, I love you, I'm pumped to be your kid, can you not tell?" 

My kid, you think to yourself with a smile, the best kid I could ever ask for. 

[joshjacksons]

Joshua Jackson interview with “Irish Independent”

It was during a childhood visit to his granny’s house in Dublin’s Ballyfermot that Joshua Jackson smoked his first cigarette.

“My memories of those visits to Ballyfermot are quite sweet really,” the Dawson’s Creek actor recalls. “I was always running around with the neighbourhood kids, getting into trouble. Not bad trouble, just little-kid trouble. Although, technically it’s where I smoked my first cigarette, so that in itself isn’t the sweetest memory.”

Jackson’s handsome face surges with deep laughter lines and quiet dimples at the mention of mum Fiona’s home turf. “She might prefer I’d say she was from Chapelizod”, he jokes, before proudly pinning his mum’s allegiance to “Ballyer”.

Was the young Canadian treated like a shiny, exotic object by the local kids? “I was a bit, but I became less exotic the older I got. Culturally, I was so far away from an Irish kid but in a little pack of children, everyone finds their level. It also helped that I had my own cousins, my own blood, around with us. I had that family connection so I never felt too exoticised.”

An entry on his IMDb profile suggests his late grandparents Rosemary and Patrick were opera singers in Dublin, indicating that performance runs in the genes. The actor seems unaware. “Mum tells me they used to sing to each other a lot. My grandparents lived in council housing with a little kitchen out the back, garden right outside, and they would sing to each other through the window as he was out pottering about while she was cooking.

“But he was known more as a snooker shark around Ballyfermot. And my grandmother, she was known as a sainted mother of seven.”

Having welcomed his first child, Janie, with his wife, the actor Jodie Turner-Smith, last year, it’s obvious family is paramount for 43-year-old Jackson, as he Zoom-calls from a rich hotel suite with dark wallpaper and plump cushions in the background. It stems from an evident bond with his mum, whose presence lovingly peppers our conversation. Just 16 when she left Dublin, Fiona Jackson travelled through Paris, Amsterdam and Geneva before embracing the vibrancy of London’s Swinging Sixties and ultimately making for Vancouver in her early twenties.

In an entry on her blog, she speaks of falling for “the spectacular beauty of snow-capped mountains and the Pacific Ocean” and ultimately scoring an entry-level position at a Canadian talent agency. It led to a career as a successful casting agent, working on film classics including Carnal Knowledge with Jack Nicholson and McCabe & Mrs Miller with Warren Beatty and Julie Christie.

She met and married Joshua’s father, John Carter, and the young family moved to Los Angeles. Sister Aisleagh was born shortly before John walked out on the family, leaving a profound effect.

“My father, unfortunately, was not a good father or husband and exited the scene,” the actor disclosed last year, before adding it’s something he “will never get over”.

Young infants in tow, Fiona returned to Vancouver and, having found early success in casting, helped contribute to the foundation of the burgeoning “Hollywood North” industry on the Canadian west coast.

Accompanying his mum on set, young Joshua’s interests were piqued. “She introduced me to this world and saw from a young age that I enjoyed performing in a way that kids do. She allowed me the opportunity to step into her work world, but it was also very clear that it was work.”

He appeared as an extra on MacGyver and as a child actor’s double in The Fly II, and Fiona could see her son’s talent and genuine desire to impress. So she allowed him to audition. However, permission came with strict caveats.

“I don’t think my mum would have ever put me anywhere near the entertainment industry if I didn’t have something to offer to it. And not just for myself; she’s a prideful woman and didn’t want to be embarrassed by her kid.”

Casting 1991 melodrama Crooked Hearts with ER’s Noah Wyle, Fiona gave Joshua a chance to shine. Impressing the filmmakers, the then-12-year-old secured the part, setting him not only on a path to stardom but away from the troubles of his teen years.

“My mother gave me the guard rails I needed at that time and also recognised, being a working single mum and with me a young boy, transitioning into a teenager, I needed structure in my life. I needed something that I was passionate about and had a respect for, because I was kind of a typical teenage disaster.

“I look back on those times in my life and the two parallel tracks I was running on. On the one hand, getting into all sorts of trouble and, on the other hand, my professional life, where I showed up and learned my lines and did my job in order to be respected by the adults I was around. If I hadn’t had that professional side of my life, the other side would have taken over, and Mum saw that. Who knows where I would have ended up?”

So Jackson was a full-on teen delinquent? “Yeah, I was, to a certain extent. It was relatively innocent — nobody died — but I was a teenage boy who didn’t have a father in the home, didn’t have a man to be scared of, frankly, and as a teenage boy, I think that helps. My mum had to work and she wasn’t always in the house so I learned to get into more and more trouble. I got into just enough trouble to have a good time and learn some lessons but if I hadn’t had my work life, I might have tipped over into the kind of trouble that you don’t come back from.”

Three decades in and Jackson remains one of the hardest-working, most recognisable actors in the game. Hitting pay dirt at 18 as Dawson’s Creek’s Pacey Witter — the wisecracking, teacher-bedding antithesis to James Van Der Beek’s beleaguered titular drip — the actor was a revelation: the soul and bite of a seasoned character performer in the guise of relatable poster-boy idol.

Teens swooned, so did the industry, and alongside Van Der Beek, Michelle Williams and Katie Holmes, Jackson had Hollywood at his feet.

A string of popcorn offerings followed — Cruel Intentions, Gossip, Shutter, Cursed — some quality, others derivative, with the small screen ultimately best utilising his skills. A five-season run on sci-fi series Fringe was followed by an outstanding turn on Showtime’s The Affair. Last year, he maintained a brooding presence opposite Reese Witherspoon and Kerry Washington in Little Fires Everywhere. And this year, he takes on arguably his darkest work yet in Dr Death.

The new miniseries is based on the non-fiction podcast of the same name, and Jackson portrays Christopher Duntsch, a former spinal surgeon who maimed 33 patients owing to gross malpractice while operating in hospitals in Dallas and Fort Worth, Texas. Two of these patients lost their lives. Convicted in 2017, Duntsch is currently in prison and serving life imprisonment. He still maintains his innocence, with his defence arguing that he was merely a bad surgeon, not a criminal.

Exuding a simmering malevolence, the actor showcases Duntsch’s disturbing complexities and terrifying behaviour as a narcissist and sociopath with a keen insight. Did Jackson meet with Duntsch? “I wanted to, but that was going to be really difficult because he’s appealing his case and his lawyers would’ve advised against it. And as I got deeper into the materials and podcast, and got a better understanding of the man, I don’t think it would’ve helped because he still really believes he’s the victim of his own patients, and the lawyers and the legal system. I’m not sure asking a liar for the truth gets you any closer to the truth.”

When it came to the victims, Jackson wanted to maintain a respectful distance. “I didn’t need to drag them through those awful memories again and I’m always a little dubious about asking people to delve into the worst moments of their life just to satisfy my curiosity. The questions had already been asked thanks to the podcast.”

Dr Death came at the right time in the actor’s life. New baby daughter Janie offered a crucial respite from the intense, and often dark, six-month foray into Duntsch’s malignant psyche.

“Inhabiting Mr Duntsch was an ugly space to live in for six months. If I’d been coming home to an empty house every night, it would have been a pretty bleak existence. It was so much better to come back to a loving home. My one-year-old doesn’t give a damn what I was doing that day. She just wants to be loved and hugged and cuddled, and it was the perfect antidote when some days were particularly heavy.”

Recently Jackson confessed that the Dawson’s Creek cast won’t be returning for a retrospective reunion like the Friends stars did earlier this year. “If you put our mid-forties selves together on a couch now, with our creaking backs, it might shock people.”

Quizzed on an actual reboot of the drama, Joshua reckons he’s simply too old to replicate the iconic rapid exchanges of dialogue between the garrulous young characters. “We were like The West Wing for teenagers,” he laughs, referencing Aaron Sorkin’s hit political TV series, also infamous for speedy script delivery. “My 43-year-old brain couldn’t do a show at that pace. Back then, we were doing seven, 10 pages a day and, to deliver dialogue at that speed, you have to have a certain mental capacity for that, and I don’t have it anymore. That’s the real reason why we’re not doing a reunion — I’ve become too dumb to keep up with that script.”

He remains in touch with his DC co-stars, including Holmes, his one-time girlfriend of two years. There’s even a text chain. “It goes through spurts every once in a while. I’ll have a bunch of messages on it and then it’ll go dormant. We’re like college friends — there are moments we’re all in contact and then long, fallow periods as we get on with our lives.”

While maintaining a busy slate, Jackson’s overwhelming purpose continues to circle the women in his life. Turner-Smith is currently shooting a new movie with Adam Driver and Greta Gerwig, so he’s assuming full-time dad duties. It’s an equitable arrangement given the flexible needs of their individual commitments, and one he appears content with.

[discoscoob]

Bless me, Master, for I have sinned

Pairing: Dhawan!Master/You

Summary: A total rip off of the kneeling scene from Fleabag, all credit for this goes to Phoebe Waller-Bridge and this post

Word count: 4,2k

Warning: I’m still fairly new to writing smut, basically this is only my second time and the first I’m actually posting so apologies in advance, please be kind 🙏🏻

 The Master had shocked you many times but you had to admit that seeing him stood at an altar, with a bible held in his hands and a dog collar around his neck as he officiated the wedding ceremony of your cousin and her fiancé, was up there at the top of the list of his biggest shocks. 

You hadn’t seen him in months, you had been travelling with him behind the Doctors back after the events with the Kasaavin, since the both of you had grown attached while he was pretending to be O. It all came to a halt when he one day gave you an ultimatum, which was for you to decide whether you wanted to travel with him or the Doctor, telling you that whichever one you chose meant you could no longer see the other. It was one of those head or heart decisions, in the end you had went with your head and every day since you had wandered how differently you would have ended up had you gone with your heart.

You slouched further into the uncomfortable wooden church bench, luckily you weren’t sat too close to the front, you were grateful for the ridiculously large hat you had chosen to wear, by simply tipping your head forward it would cast a shadow over your face and make you less recognisable. 

You spent the remainder of the ceremony bouncing your knee and chewing your lip while glancing at the exit, knowing if you left early you would only draw attention to yourself so you waited until it was over and everyone had left their seats to dodge through the crowd and straight for the double doors, what you didn’t expect was for the Master to be stood at the entrance of the church, nodding and smiling as everyone left, even shaking some people’s hands if they offered. 

You dipped your head once again, this time hiding your face completely beneath your hat as you quickly jogged past him, hoping the old lady who had decided to start telling him about how she also got married in this church was enough to keep him distracted. 

Once you made it to your car you checked all your mirrors and let out a sigh of relief when you saw he wasn’t following you, after removing your hat and placing it on your passenger seat you started your car and began your journey home.

However after you got home you still couldn’t stop thinking about him, he was in your town pretending to be a priest, you wondered how long he had been here and why he was here, was he looking for you? That didn’t make sense, he knew where you lived, if he wanted you he could just show up on your doorstep anytime he liked. 

It was after you had got into bed for the night that you realised you wouldn’t be able to sleep with all these unanswered questions in your head, begrudgingly you threw your covers off you and began to get dressed, you were going to pay him a visit.

 •

 When you entered the dimly lit church you couldn’t help the shiver that shot down your spine, you had never been in a church at night before and you hated how hauntingly airy it felt, so you wrapped your arms around yourself as you warily made your way down the isle. 

The sound of pop music echoed through the empty hall and you followed the noise until you arrived at an archway at the side of the alter, from there the warm glow of a light partially leaked into the shadows and lured you towards it. 

When you entered the room, the sound of banging caught your attention and you turned your head in the direction of it to find the Master jumping with his arms stretched out above him, trying to reach for something in one of the higher shelves of a cabinet. He was too distracted by this task to notice your presence so you looked behind you for the source of the music and found the stereo, you reached out and hit the switch to turn it off

“Oh fuck!” The Master immediately startled when he saw you stood there and he scrambled backwards with his arms in front of him as if you were a threat, still letting out a string of curse words.

“Woah,” you breathed out through a small laugh, somewhat amused by his reaction.

“Oh my god I thought you were just in my head then!” He thought out loud, as he blinked rapidly, his arms still held out in front of him as he shifted his weight on his legs, he brought his hands up to his eyes as if he was going to rub them just to be sure they weren’t deceiving him but he stopped himself to point at you instead, “I mean, you were in my head then... but now you’re there.” He waved his hands around as he spoke, it was pretty obvious from the way he was acting that he had had a little bit to drink... or a lot.

You laughed a bit, unused to seeing him behave this way but you gave him a dubious look as you asked, “are you okay, Master?”

“Fuck you calling me Master like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it.” He smiled boldly at you with both hands placed on his hips, he was still dressed up as a priest though his collar hung open now to reveal the top of his chest, the hair there just peaking out from beneath the fabric. 

You stood wordlessly, unsure of how to even respond to what he just called you out on, I mean it wasn’t exactly false but you weren’t going to admit it out loud, your silence was enough and it seemed he realised that as he let out a single hum of a laugh.

“Do you wanna drink?” He offered you.

“Yeah,” you found yourself answering before you could even think about it, you knew that probably wasn’t the wisest decision but it was too late now he had already placed the empty glass on the table.

“Don’t move.” He ordered as he turned around the fetch the bottle, you couldn’t help the way that little instruction made your stomach do a slight flutter.

That’s when he went back to what you had caught him doing when you walked into the room, jumping at the cabinet with his arms stretched above his head, “I don’t seem to have the fucking reach anymore.” He complained as he continued to jump and you watched him curiously. 

“God help me.” He spoke under his breath and with one more jump the bottle was flying out of the cabinet, “woah” he gasped as he quickly caught it before it smashed to the floor.

He gave you a look before he moved back over to the table, you followed him as he poured you both a glass before he picked them both up by their rim, offering you yours.

“Here’s to chaos,” he raised his glass towards you, “and those who get in the way of it.” 

You weren’t exactly sure what he meant by that but you raised your glass to his anyway and they met in the middle with a little ping before you each took a gulp... or two... or three, if you’re the Master. 

“I’m sorry about–“ You began to apologise for choosing the Doctor over him, you weren’t sure why but you felt as though you had to as you looked upon the broken state he seemed to be in.

“Forget about it.” He dismissed before he quickly changed the subject “look at this!” He smiled, placing his glass on the table to turn around to open the closet behind him, he pulled out a priest’s robe and of course it was purple, you smiled nodding, you should have expected it, “look at it!” He enthused, “I knew I wanted a bold... this colour.” He gestured towards the garment. “So beautiful, isn’t it?” He looked at you as if this was completely normal, as if he wasn’t the Master, the renegade Time Lord who destroyed his own planet, now stood here with you in a church, pretending to be a priest as he fawned over one of his robes, refusing to acknowledge the obscurity of it all.

“What are you doing here?” You finally asked him the question you came here to get the answer to, he paused, standing across from the table with his hands clasped in front of him and his head hung so he didn’t have to look at you, he stepped forward and reached for his glass, it seemed he was suddenly very interested in it’s contents as he stared into it while he shifted his weight back and forth until he got the courage to look up at you finally.

“Come with me.” He nodded his head towards the door as he began to walk over to it, you weren’t sure if this was leading to him answering your question or if he was trying to change the subject but you guessed the only way you would find out would be if you followed him, so that’s what you did. 

 •

 You were stood in front of the confession box, face to face, you still couldn’t tell where this was leading but by now you were sure that it was a way to distract you just enough so he wouldn’t have to give you any of the answers you were looking for since he seemed to expect you to be the one to tell him your secrets, rather than the other way around.

“You go in there, I go in there.” He explained to you, pointing to each cubicle of the box, the irony of an alien who wasn’t from your planet explaining one of earths customs as if he had better knowledge of it than you did, sometimes you forgot how much time he had spent on earth, technically he had lived on this planet longer than you had, maybe he did have more knowledge after all. You shook your head, that was too much to think about right now especially when you realised he was really serious about getting you to do a confession with him.

“You’re going to make me tell you all my secrets so you can ultimately trap and control me.” You joked.

“Yeah,” he giggled, before his face shifted to a more serious expression. “No, you tell me what’s weighing on your heart and I listen without judgement and in complete confidence.” 

“Wow how much time have you spent here, did you read that from a script?” You laughed through a gasp, shocked by how precise he was getting this priest act.

“Shut up,” he light-heartedly grumbled at your teasing, “come on.” He encouraged you.

“I’m not a catholic.” You protested.

“Neither am I.” He shrugged and had you been religious you would have stepped away from him in fear he would spontaneously burst into flames, since you were sure that standing in a church and being a fraudulent priest while admitting you weren’t a catholic was asking for trouble. 

“Come on.” He urged you some more, keeping his voice soft. “Just do it.”

“Alright.” You softly agreed and then you both made your way in to the separate cubicles. 

“Okay now you say ‘bless me Master for I have sinned-“

“I’m not going to say that.”

He ignored your interruption and continued with his instructions. “‘it’s been insert days, years months since my last confession’ then I say ‘that’s okay blah blah blah’ until you tell me what’s on your mind... tell me your sins!” He eagerly encouraged you and you were laughing.

“Why would I tell you my sins?” You spoke through a broad smile.

“Because... I want to know.” He told you in a hushed tone, as if it were a secret.

So you decided you would, with a quick gulp of your drink and a deep breath, you would play his game.

“I’ve stolen things... but you would know about that since you were usually the one encouraging me to do it. I’ve had sex outside marriage, something else you already know about.” You laughed to yourself, “a lot of masturbation, a bit of violence and of course the endless fucking blasphemy.”

“And?” He prompted you to share more, it wasn’t hard to see you were holding back.

“And...” You paused, questioning whether or not you really wanted to tell him.

“Go on.” He pushed you.

You took another big gulp of your drink, to try and calm your nerves.

“And... m’frightened.” 

“Of what?”

“That I got it all wrong...” He remained silent as he patiently waited for you to elaborate, “I thought choosing the Doctor was the right thing to do but if it was why do I still think about you every single day and what my life would have been like if I chose you instead?” 

“Do you still travel with the Doctor?” He had asked and you automatically shook your head before he remembered he couldn’t see you.

“No,” you answered quietly.

“Do you miss it?” 

“I miss you.” You confessed, “I think you should have made the decision for me, I would’ve done anything you told me, I trust you would’ve got it right and I wouldn’t be spending every single day thinking about what could’ve been because I would‘ve actually been doing it. So just tell me what to do,” you pleaded, your voice strained from your overwhelming emotions. “Just fucking tell me what to do, Master!” 

Silence. You felt your heart begin to pick up as you waited for him to say something, you dropped your head in dejection.

“Kneel.” Finally came his instruction.

Everything went still for a moment and you questioned whether this was reality or if you had just began daydreaming. Your eyes travelled up to the grid of the confession box.

“What?” You wanted the confirmation that you heard him correctly, that this was real.

“Kneel.” He said softer this time, “just kneel.”

You took a deep breath while you blinked down at your lap, your lips were slightly parted as you lifted your drink to slowly place it on the ledge in the confession box and with that you carefully lowered yourself to your knees in the cramped space, the wood creaked as you moved. Once you were on your knees you arched your neck back and chewed your lip while you waited for what was next. 

You really hope he wasn’t going to get you to pray this was not what you imagined–

The curtain to the cubicle was abruptly pushed to the side to reveal the Master standing before you in all his glory, your breath hitched in your throat while your lip slipped from between your teeth, your mouth rested slightly parted. You stared up at him with doe eyes which conveyed all your desire while he glared down at you with a hard stoic expression.

Your eyes followed him as he gently lowered himself to his knees, one leg at a time and once he was done he was still looking down at you since you knelt with your bottom rested against the back of your ankles while he kept his thighs up right.

He brought his hands up to your face, just letting them hover before he ever so lightly traced the back of his fingers down your jaw until his thumb slightly brushed your chin.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes kept flicking down to his lips and you hoped that they displayed all your need for him and he had enough mercy to grant you your desire. 

Much to your delight he leant his head towards yours and you craned your neck towards him, your lips met in a tender kiss, his fingertips brushed up your throat and the fine hair at the back of your neck stood to attention.

When you pulled away from the simple kiss, you briefly glanced at each other, just to see the affect you had on one another but your glazed eyes barely managed to meet before each of you were focusing your concentration onto the others lips. You fell into another kiss however you decided you needed more than just soft and tender so you pushed into it further, raising your thighs and he chased your lips with his own as you continued to rise until you were stood on both feet, with him not far behind, your mutual desperation increased at a rapid rate. 

You began blindly stumbling, with your hands trying to grab each other anywhere and everywhere all at once, both of you refusing to break the kiss to move in a more effective and safer fashion, until you were pushing him into the door of the confession box. 

You brought your trembling fingers up to where the button should be for his trousers but you had trouble finding it until you recalled he was wearing a robe so you hastily grasped the fabric in your palms trying to get it all out of the way from where you wanted to be which only caused you to grow frustrated.

“Skirt and trousers?” You complained, although you had to admit it made sense considering priests had to be celibate it’s not like they had any need for clothes that allowed for easy access.

He helped you along as he bunched up the fabric in his arms and you were finally able to unclasp the button of his trousers, you felt the fabric which the Master had been holding bunch up against your wrist as he let it drop in favour of wrapping his arms around your waist, deciding he needed to pull you closer, so with your chests flush you blindly walked him until the back of his knees hit a bench and he collapsed onto it with his legs spread wide open, allowing you enough space to drop to your knees between them. You steadied yourself by clutching each of his thighs as you lowered yourself to the ground, never breaking eye contact.

His eyes still shone despite the lack of light in the empty church hall and his jaw hung slack, you caught the way his chest rose and fell with his heavy breaths as he closely watched your every move while he urgently gathered the excess fabric of his robe to get it out of your way.

“I should have never let you go.” The Master panted, “I should’ve kept you all to myself the moment you started travelling with me, I was a fool to share something as precious as you with anyone else, let alone the Doctor.” 

While he was talking you had managed to get his zip down and began palming him over his underwear, you could already feel his length straining against the material from how desperate he was for you.

“You don’t have to share me anymore.” You promised him, while you slowly pulled his trousers and boxers down together until his member was freed from its confinement, it sprung up against his stomach and the Master hissed from the feeling of it suddenly coming into contact with the cold air, churches weren’t exactly renowned for being the warmest of places.

He didn’t have to suffer for long as you were soon wrapping your warm palm around the base to drag it up to his tip, letting your hand  slightly twist around the head before dragging it back to the base to repeat the routine.

His breathing grew even heavier and you didn’t miss the way the muscles of his stomach twitched as you paid close attention to the head. 

With one fist buried into the crumbled up fabric of his robe, keeping him grounded, he moved his other hand to comb his fingers through your hair to secure a fist full of it at the crown of your head.

“That’s enough teasing, pet.” He huffed, urging your head closer to his length and who were you to disobey your Master?

You lowered your head, never breaking eye contact as he watched you with his lids lazily dropped. You brought your tongue out to give the head a quick lick before wrapping your lips around it and hollowing your cheeks as you dragged your head back up until it released with a pop, after that you flattened your tongue against his base and dragged it all the way to his tip which you swirled your tongue around before you closed your lips around it once again, this time moving your head down his shaft and the Master encouraged you further with the fist full of hair he still had a secure grip on, until the blunt head collided with the back of your throat and you let out a splutter, he loosened his grip allowing you to freely raise your own head but you just brought your mouth to his tip before you where sinking back down again as far as you could go.

“So good for your Master,” he breathlessly praised you, which only spurred you on further as his hips began to involuntary thrust up into your mouth, chasing his impending high. 

He broke your eye contact when he threw his head back against the back of the church bench, moaning your name in pleasure and you saw his Adam’s apple bop up and down, swallowing a gulp from the way his mouth watered.

You began to quicken your pace, hollowing your cheeks harder and rubbing the part you couldn’t reach with your hand to bring him towards his orgasm. 

By now your eyes had started watering from the attack on your gag reflex but you didn’t mind since your eyes weren’t the only things that became more damp with each thrust that hit the back of your throat, you clenched your thighs in an attempt to offer yourself some relief but it didn’t go far. 

“M’gonna come,” he warned you through clenched teeth, it was the only noticed you got before his hips bucked towards you a few times until finally his release spilled onto your tongue as your name spilled out of his mouth, he had tightened his grip on your hair making your scalp burn from the harsh hold but it only sent a wave of pleasure through the pit of your stomach. 

Once his body relaxed so did his hold and he gently ran his palm over your scalp to sooth you as he caught his breath, his head still rested back against the back of the bench, you tucked his now half hard member back into his underwear before you nuzzled your face into his palm which he had brought to your cheek after he had stroked it through your hair. 

You had your eyes closed you hadn’t noticed he was reaching forward for you until you felt his hands gripping you under your arm pits, urging you to your feet, you did as he wanted and his hands slid from under your arms and down your rib cage until they gripped your waist and he pulled you down to straddle his lap.

He looked up at you, his eyes bounced back and forth between yours before he extended his neck towards you to capture your lips with his own, his hand moved up to the back of your neck to keep you in place, while his tongue brushed across your bottom lip. 

Your own hands were rested on his shoulders to keep yourself steady, you couldn’t help the way your hips began to grind into his as you searched for anyway to relieve the tension that had built from providing him with pleasure.

After he felt your hips rhythmically stroking against his he moved his hands to your love handles to still your movements with a bruising grip.

You whined in protest but he gently shushed you, dragging a finger over your lips.

“Does my human need her Master?” He taunted, and you desperately nodded as you looked into his sparkling eyes, looking more himself than he had the entire night, a broad smile creeped on his face when he saw the yearning in yours. 

“Use your words, love.” He urged.

“I need you, Master.” You mumbled, vocalising your desires was something you still struggled with but when you travelled with him he had always encouraged you to be vocal, not only did it make it easier for him to know exactly what you needed he revelled in watching you beg him.

He gently patted your thigh, prompting you to lift off his lap with a quick peck to your lips.

“Come on, love, let’s go to my tardis, where I can take proper care of you.” He promised, and you weren’t going to turn him down, not ever again, you still hadn’t got the answers you had come here for but that could wait, for now you had better things to do.

[kamekamelea]

Planting a seed

This story was written for my dear fandom friend @shannaro-sakura ❤ this is my virtual hug for you and I hope it cheers you up a bit :)

(Big THANK YOUs go to @fm-white and @ashlyne-m for being awesome betas!)

(also, this is my first Zutara piece so this is exciting)

Summary:  Zuko turns out to be a cultivator, Katara learns what an "arbuz" is and everything becomes just a little bit sweeter.

read on AO3

~~~*~~~

Zuko had been waiting for this afternoon all week.

A week ago Katara announced her plans to stay in the palace after the summit the entire gang attended was over. Every night since that day, just before falling asleep, the young Fire Lord thought about her embarrassed smile as she asked if he’d be okay with her staying a bit longer. He almost gathered up the courage to hug her, to show her how okay he was with that.

After bidding their friends goodbye in the morning, the Fire Lord couldn’t have been more eager to get to work. There were a few crucial matters on his agenda for today and he rush through them to make it on time.

On time for afternoon tea with Katara.

The appointed hour was near and Zuko hurried to the gardens where he was supposed to meet his friend. He did, however, make a quick stop at his quarters to pick up a very important object—a surprise for Katara.

With the large package in hand, he stepped out of the palace straight onto a soft carpet of grass. Zuko breathed in the fresh air, a blissful relief after the morning spent stuck in his stuffy office. The sight of the old wisteria met him, the one Uncle Iroh claimed to be over a hundred years old, sagged under the weight of its flowers. The tree was really one of a kind—Zuko has never seen another tree bloom in blue.

No wonder Katara’s favourite spot in his gardens was the one right under the biggest branch of the indigo tree. She was already seated there, smiling at him over her book which Zuko recognized as one he recommended to her in one of his letters.

“I’m surprised to see you on time,” she said, skipping the pleasantries. They were too close friends to care about such trivial things as greetings. “I thought your ministers would long for you after you abandoned them for almost three weeks for some foreign delegations,” she said the word foreign with mock disdain, her lips twisted in a smirk. Sunlight danced on her crinkled nose and her cheeks were slightly flushed from the heat, and Zuko wished he had any artistic talent as he was hit with the sudden desire to capture the view.

He waved with disregard for his ministers, not caring about them at all at the moment. Before he could answer, Katara took notice of his pack.

“That’s a heavy looking bag. What is it?”

Zuko couldn’t stop the grin from appearing on his face, as he sat across from Katara and dropped the round package on the grass between them.

“Something special I’d like to share with you.”

Or rather brag about.

Katara’s eyes shone, and she raised her brows in anticipation, leaning closer to him. He took his time untying the strips on the bag, giving his friend a messy introduction in the meantime. “I’ve been hiding it for a few days—from the others—and before that I kept it a secret for more than a year. It became kind of a hobby for me,” he revealed. “Took me a long time to get to this point, and for now I’ve only managed to grow this one—that’s why I hid it, because I wanted to share it with you—” he finally uncovered the mysterious object, and turned his gaze to Katara, excited to see her reaction.

Zuko’s smile fell, seeing a sceptic frown on her face.

“A... melon?”

“Uhm...Technically, yes. But it’s different from a regular melon.” He took a glance at the globose fruit, the stripes of various greens shining in the sun. And then he remembered why Katara confused the name. “I know that’s how we called it on the Ember Island during the war, but that is not what it’s called. We call it ’arbuz’ here.”

She nodded, eyeing the fruit with genuine curiosity. “And what’s so special about this ‘arbuz’ again?”

“I grew it myself,” he said with an enthusiasm that suited a child more than a Fire Lord, but he didn’t feel embarrassed in front of her. “Have you ever tried this fruit?”

“No, I don’t think so. I remember blasting it with various attacks, but I didn’t care much for its consumption back then,” she chuckled. “But I know how a regular melon tastes.”

“This one is slightly different. Some call it a ’watermelon’, because it is 91% water.” He put an emphasis on the number and Katara was polite enough to show amused interest in the fun fact he provided. “And I thought…” He put his hands on the sides of the fruit to keep them from shaking. “I thought you might like it, because… you know… you like water,” he finished, his shoulders slumping from embarrassment.

Her frown deepened and his heart froze.

“So, because it is made of water, you figured I’m bound to like it?”

Heat rose up his neck, threatening to bloom on his cheeks. He tilted his head, showing the scarred side, hoping the redness wouldn’t be that evident there. Now that she said it out, loud it sounded so damn stupid.

“Umm...no. I mean yes… but like in a humorous way… I didn’t mean… did I offend you?” he eventually blurted out.

Giggles bursted out of Katara’s chest and she raised her hand to cover the open mouthed laughter. Zuko wished she didn’t—she looked so beautiful laughing in his gardens he forgot to be embarrassed.

“I’m just teasing.” She leaned closer and playfully tapped him on his thigh, and he felt his blush raising up again when her palm lingered on his knee. “I’m honored to be included in this special occasion of arbuz tasting.” She smiled at him and his own lip curled in response. Her teasing couldn’t upset him really when she beamed at him like that.

His heart, which stopped just a few moments ago, now started beating frantically, so he set to keep his hands busy with cutting the fruit. He sank the blade into the rind and once it broke the barrier Zuko was happy to observe the internal part was much softer.

“Is this the knife Sokka gave you?”

“Yes, I always carry it with me.” He smiled, sentiment tugging at his heart.

“Why?” Katara furrowed her brows.

Distracted, trying to form a coherent answer, he stopped cutting the fruit for a second.

“Because my Dao swords freak people out on a regular day.”

He was more than happy to hear her laughing at his joke, and his knife cut through the rind on both sides. The watermelon opened revealing delicious red flesh. Zuko grinned at the sight—it was a good sign—and raised his head to share his excitement with Katara, only to notice her smile fell.

Her tone turned serious. “Is it still so bad?”

He sighed. The issue of Katara’s friends’ safety always seemed to upset her.

“No, it’s been quiet for some time. I have to admit though—chasing the assassins was quite an entertainment,” he added with a smirk. “Now I’m almost bored from the lack of action. And it is you I blame. You scared them off.”

Katara shrugged, nonchalantly playing with her hair. “If they couldn’t take a few water whips, they didn’t deserve to be the Fire Lord’s assassins.” She smirked with a dangerous glint in her eye.

It was the same look she would wear on the nights the two of them chased the criminals through the rooftops of Caldera City. With the bottom of her face covered with a cloth, he could only see the blue of her eyes, sharp with satisfaction when they caught the bad guys. Their duo had never failed.

He smiled at the memory, making clean cuts of the fruit to shape it into small slices.

“So, you grew it yourself,” Katara started with a smirk. “Who would’ve thought the Fire Lord Zuko had a knack for cultivation?”

“No one,” he whispered with a playful smile, handing her a triangle piece of watermelon. “It’s the best kept secret in the Fire Nation. You’re the only one who knows.”

She raised her brow. “Not even uncle Iroh knows?”

“Not even uncle.” The revelation caused Katara’s face to lit up. “Nor the gardener. I was this close,” he pinched his fingers, “to asking for his help after so many fruitless attempts. But I didn’t and grew it anyway. It’s the first and so far only one.” He eyed the fruit. “I’m so anxious to try it.”

Suddenly the stupidity of his actions struck him. He was so excited to show Katara his watermelon, he ignored the risk of the fruit’s dubious taste. What if it was actually disgusting? Just because it looked good it didn’t mean it had to be good.

Katara’s cheerful voice shook him out of his musings. “I’m not.”

And before Zuko could say anything or knock the slice out of her hold and run far away with his watermelon, Katara sank her teeth in the flesh. She munched, making weird noises and pulling faces at him—some affirmative, some not.

“Oh, stop tormenting me, Katara!” Zuko groaned. “So? How is it? Is it good?”

His desperation caused the girl to burst in another round of laughter. He kept an impressive track record of making her laugh today.

“I don’t know how it is supposed to taste, you tell me!”

Katara shoved her nibbled slice right in front of his face. Zuko froze for a second, taken aback by the intimacy of the gesture, but recovered quickly. He grasped her wrist to bring the fruit closer to his mouth and took a bite.

Her smile widened seeing his reaction.

“It is good!” Excited, he took another bite of Katara’s slice. The blush that bloomed on her cheeks had the color of his watermelon and Zuko realized it had nothing to do with the heat. “Do you like it?”

She nodded enthusiastically, grinning. “Yes, it’s very refreshing. And surprisingly cool.”

“I put it in a cooler last night. Even awful watermelons are bearable to eat when cold.”

“But this one isn’t awful.”

“No, it’s not.” He didn’t even try to stop the cheeky grin from appearing on his face. The watermelon was sweet but refreshing—exactly how it was supposed to taste. And so succulent a small bead of juice ran down Katara’s chin as she took another bite. Without thinking, he reached to wipe it.

Katara stared at him with a funny look on her face—she seemed spooked. His palm which lingered on her jaw now sprung as if burnt.

An awfully awkward silence fell between them for a few long seconds. Then Katara cleared her throat. “Better learn how to grow more of them, Zuko,” she said with a stern voice, but her smile betrayed her teasing. “You had a good feeling about me liking them a lot.”

“Thank Agni, it’s good,” he let go of all the anxious breath that was trapped inside him all morning. “It would’ve been quite embarrassing if I grew a disgusting watermelon for you.”

Zuko choked on said fruit as he realized his slip. Falling into a coughing fit, he didn’t notice Katara drew closer until her hair tickled his forearm.

“Thank you for sharing with me. That’s very sweet of you, Zuko. As sweet as this perfectly cultivated arbuz.”

And then a strand of hair tickled his jaw, and the next thing he knew was Katara’s lips on his cheek. She withdrew quickly, avoiding his gaze. The spot where she left the butterfly kiss burned, but it was a pleasant heat (nothing like getting burnt by a parent).

“I should return the favor now,” she muttered, and Zuko barely heard her.

Still dumbstruck a little, Zuko wasn’t able to formulate a coherent question, so he just furrowed his brows in confusion.

“And cultivate something from the South Pole for you,” Katara clarified.

“Oh.” Something warm swelled in his chest, something that suddenly made Zuko very nervous to be around Katara. “I didn’t know stuff grows on the South Pole.”

“Hardly,” she chuckled. “All I can think of are sea prunes. But they grow in the ocean. Do you like them?” she asked, and Zuko saw the excitement budding in her eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever tried them.”

“Hmm…” Katara bit her lip and Zuko knew he was staring but couldn’t look away. “I’ve heard they’re similar in taste to Fire Nation’s ocean kumquats. Do you like those?”

Zuko hated ocean kumquats.

“Yeah...I like them a lot.”

Her eyes widened in now full bloomed excitement and she clasped her hands together. “I can’t wait to treat you with sea prunes stew!”

And as Katara carried on describing the details of the famous South Pole’s cuisine Zuko didn’t even have half the mind to be disgusted by the depiction, because a dumb grin grew on his lips and a feeling started sprouting in his heart.

[lukeskywaker4ever]

D. Pedro V: probably one of the best ruler that Portugal has ever had

Never had a Crown Prince been so prepared to rule. Educated in a voluntarism notion of governance and for the good of the common thing as a pupil of Alexandre Herculano, as well as in the acquisition of technical, political and cultural skills taught by his father, the King-Artist who promoted the cult of Art, and by the masters contracted by Him. The Royal Princel and Duke of Bragança Dom Pedro fluently dominated French, German, Greek, Latin and English from an early age.

Pedro de Alcântara Maria Fernando Miguel Rafael Gonzaga de Saxe-Coburgo-Gotha and Bragança was still very young when, as a result of the death of her mother at the age of 34, Queen Dona Maria II - during the birth of her 11th child -, ascended to the throne of Portugal with only 16 years old, although His Father D. Fernando II of Saxe-Coburgo-Gotha-Koháry (became King of Portugal jure uxoris, after the birth of the Crown Prince) remained as Regent until the majority of the new King.

Despite being one of the most intelligent monarchs of his time, and the one who worked the most for culture, in Portugal (comparable to King D. Duarte,) it is, for many, almost unknown. During the short years at the head of the Nation, the first kilometers of the Northern railway line - 1856 (Lisbon - Porto) were inaugurated; the Higher Course of Letters was founded (1859); the first telegraph lines were launched (1855); and the first submarine cable began, between Lisbon, the Azores and the United States.

One year after his mother's death, D. Pedro visited England, Belgium, Germany, Holland and Austria, with his brother D. Luís. In 1855, he came into contact with the reality experienced in France, in the kingdom of Naples, in the Holy See and in Switzerland. These trips complemented the valuable teachings of the teachers, among which Alexandre Herculano stands out. In this way, the monarch had an unparalleled knowledge of the art of governing, both in our country and abroad.

D. Pedro V was, in fact, a man of superior intelligence and exceptional culture, as attested by the Diary that he wrote during his travels in Europe, the articles he published in the Military and Contemporary magazines and the letters of great literary value which he sent to the count of Lavradio and to Prince Albert of England.

He was a young man with a very strong and balanced personality, extremely cultured and aware of the responsibilities he had in charge. Unfortunately, he would not have the time or the necessary tranquility to be able to show everything he had to offer the subjects.

The famous Green Box of D. Pedro V

Scruples and a love of the truth led him to take an unprecedented attitude in politics. Oliveira Martins says: “He took so much into account those around him, created so much in them, that he had a green box placed at the door of his palace, whose key he kept, so that his people could speak to him frankly, complain , accuse the crimes of the rulers. ”

They say that he had to withdraw it, because the people or the politicians, instead of asking and complaining, launched insults and insulting words. When you want to give a voice to those who don't have it, the "Democrats" don't like it.

A careful education

D. Pedro V was reputed to be gifted, such as his intellectual abilities and his speed of learning. His great master throughout his life was Alexandre Herculano. At the age of 10, he had D. Maria Carolina Mishisch as his teacher. Martins Basto followed. He learned Latin. With 6 months of study, translates Eutropius and Phaedrus; and at the age of 12, he was able to pour texts by Virgílio, Tito Lívio and Cícero into the his mother language, Portuguese.. Then he learned: painting, philosophy and living languages.

At the age of 17 (1854) he traveled to England, Belgium, Holland, Germany and France; and the following year he visits Italy and Switzerland. He does not travel for fun, but to learn and contact politicians and men of culture. He reads a lot: generalist and economics books and magazines. He was of unusual sensitivity and dedication: When his father (Daddy), as he writes in the diary, was ill, he spent most of the day at his bed, reading articles published in newspapers, to entertain him and to be able to be at his side. up to date.

Josefina's strange case

In August 1855, just arrived from England and weeks from being acclaimed king of Portugal, D. Pedro V is surprised by the strange presence of a beautiful girl in his room in the Palácio das Necessidades. Young Josefina, daughter of one of the officers of the Paço secretariat, who lived in Rua do Livramento in Alcântara, cannot justify her presence in the King's private rooms.

The situation was embarrassing for both. The dubious intentions of a courtier interested in pending future benefits of the young monarch had forced poor Josefina into such an embarrassing position. Realizing the anguish of the young woman, already on the verge of tears, D. Pedro pretends, piously, to understand that she would have just been mistaken at the door.

The marriage with D. Estefânia

On April 29, 1858, D. Pedro V married Princess Estefânia de Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen by proxy, signed in Berlin, in the church of Santa Edviges. D. Estefânia was “found” by Queen Victoria of England who, therefore admiring D. Pedro V, searched among all the European royal houses for a bride at the height of the Portuguese King. The princess arrived in Portugal shortly after and, on May 18 of the same year, the royal bond was celebrated in Lisbon.

The sympathy and kindness of the new queen immediately captivated the Portuguese people. The king also fell in love with D. Estefânia, a love that was reciprocated by his wife, who returned his attentions with the statement that they were made for each other. However, this state of grace did not last long. On July 17, 1859, the young queen died of diphtheria, which caused a huge blow to the monarch.

The couple had no children and D. Pedro V did not remarry, leaving the succession issue unresolved. In honor of the beloved queen, the king founded, in Lisbon, the hospital that was named after his wife.

Love for the People

When the cholera epidemic (1855-56) spread through Lisbon, followed by yellow fever (this started in Porto,) part of the city's population flees to the province. D. Pedro not only refuses to leave the capital, but visits hospitals; he enters the wards and talks affectionately with the sick. Knowing that there are many orphaned children, he helps them, running the expenses out of his own pocket.

Alves Mendes, in “Oração Fúnebre”, in the funeral of the King, says at a certain step: “It is in a bucket that someone advises you to change the system. No! He said to his ministers: in the face of the crisis that decimates my people, it will not be my heart that rests, nor my arm that stops working! … ”

Premature death

In mid-1861, the King moved to Vila Viçosa. Then, for a short stay, he travels through several locations, being warmly received by the people. Arrived in Lisbon, he feels bad, and died, a few days later (November 11, 1861, at 7 pm) He died a widower and without children. In this way the reign of the Hopeful ended abruptly, the feeling remaining that, in addition to having lost a great man, the nation could not fully enjoy the governmental capabilities of the king of Portugal.

Alexandre Herculano, asserts that the King, had a pure soul and was of exceptional nobility. For all this he was known by the nickname "Very Beloved". For having loved so much: the Fatherland, and especially the humble people. It lies in the Royal Pantheon of the Bragança Dynasty, in the Monastery of São Vicente de Fora, in Lisbon. It is said, at his funeral, Alexandre Herculano would have cried like a child such was the disgust at prematurely losing his pupil.

[burnouts3s3]

Valkyrie Drive: Mermaid, a review

(Disclaimer: The following is a non-profit unprofessional blog post written by an unprofessional blog poster. All purported facts and statement are little more than the subjective, biased opinion of said blog poster. In other words, don’t take anything I say too seriously.) Just the facts 'Cause you're in a Hurry! Manufacturer’s Suggested Retail Price (MSRP): 50 USD Digital Copy (MSRP): 17.99 USD How much I paid: 50 USD. Animation Studio: ARMS Licensed and Localized by: Funimation Entertainment Audio: Japanese Audio with Subtitles and English Dub available.   English Cast: Kayla Hardwick as Mamori, Morgan Garrett as Mirei, Brittney Karbowski as Meifon, Janelle Lutz as Akira Hiragi, Monica Rial as Charlotte Scharsen, Roseanne Palmer as Kasumi Shigure, Tia Ballard as Rain Hasumi, Jamie Marchi as Lady J and Cynthia Cranz as Torino. Number of Episodes: 12 Episodes Length per Episode: 25 Minutes on average. 21 Without Intro and Ending song. Number of Discs: 4 Discs in Total. 2 DVD Discs and 2 Blu-ray discs. Episodes per Disc: Episodes 1-7 on the 1st DVD disc. Episodees 8-12 on the 2nd DVD disc. Episodes 1-9 on the first Blu-ray disc with Episodes 10-12 on the second Blu-ray disc along with the special features. Does this come a digital voucher to redeem?: No. This only has the Physical DVD and Blu-ray discs. Also on: Amazon Video, Funimation Now, Funimation’s streaming service that requires a subscription. Bonus Features: Textless Openings, Textless Ending and Trailers for other Funimation Licensed Shows. Episode 3 Commentary. Notable Localization Changes: Meifon, the smuggler character who wears a pink cowboy hat, is given a southern accent by her voice performer, Brittney Kowbalski.   My Personal Biases: I never really invested in the Valkyrie Drive franchise before and never played any of the games the anime is adapting. Sorry. My Verdict: Trashy, lurid, gaudy and with enough fanservice to make even the most perverted of us blush, Valkyrie Drive: Mermaid is sure to give its intending audience the happy ending they want. It’s too bad that in 12 short episodes, there’s just not enough there, emotionally or lore wise, to get invested in unless you’ve already have backhand knowledge of the games. Wait for a sale. A/N: Okay, since I don’t want the moderators to flag this post, I’m going to have to put an explicit warning here. So while I won’t post any nudity, I will have to Age restrict this post just so I don’t get any flak. Valkyrie Drive: Mermaid. a review 

Girls from all over the world have been infected with a mysterious virus known as the A Virus (Armed Virus). These girls are divided into two classes; Extars, who can transform into weapons when sexually aroused, and Liberators, who have the power to wield an Extar's weapon form, known as Liberator Arms, through a process known as Drive. These girls are brought to separate islands to spend their days completely isolated from the rest of the world until the islands' Observers, authorized by the government Organisation AAA, ostensibly deem them ready to rejoin society again. Valkyrie Drive: Mermaid follows an Extar named Mamori Tokonome who forms a partnership with the Liberator Mirei Shikishima on the island called Mermaid.(For our friends not fluent in Japanese, Tokonome shares a very similar writing as the word ‘Virgin’ in Japanese, which Togonome is.). Mamori and Mirei are caught between a conflict between the Wärter, the island’s government that lives the castle, Veste, and those fleeing it. With Governor Akira (a supposed male Liberator that’s actually female) trying to be fair, Charlotte getting delusions of grandeur and wanting to rule with an iron fist and Kasumi attempting to be fair to the girls, the Wärter is in constant conflict. Those attempting to flee join up with Ms. Torumi, a kind soul who offers shelter for girls looking for freedom. Meanwhile, a sneaky smuggler by the name of Meifon is trying to earn a profit from the war. Along the way, Mamori and Mirei meet other Liberators and Extars, such as the team Lady J and Lady Rain in which one transforms into a ridable motorcycle. Other liberators, such as Charlotte, have their own harem of Extars and arouse multiple ones to form a multi-part weapon. Let’s get this out of the way. Yes, it IS in fact Soul Eater but with Lesbians. And the show isn’t afraid of being explicit about it. We are talking full-on nudity with lots of exposed breasts flopping around, bouncing and lots and lots of shots of nipples erecting… and hardening… Christ, this makes fanservice driven series like Kannazuki no Miko or Strawberry Panic look like the chaste Maria-Sama ga Miteru. On the technical side, everything is very well done. The animation for both the action and fanservice scenes is well animated, the music flows scene to scene (even if I couldn’t really remember any pieces that stood out) and the voice acting for both the Original Japanese and English dub is well-done. So, if you’re looking for lots and lots of scenes of girls kissing each other, breasts flopping around with the viscosity of jello and scenes of action with naked girls, have I got a show for you. Story wise, I found the series rather lacking. Seasonal shows really need to be careful with their pacing. With a limited 12 episode run, VD:M is already bursting at the seams with an overly long 4 episode prologue establishing the characters, the setting, the divide between the girls going along with Charlotte and Akira’s lawful order, Kasumi’s wavering allegiance and Torumi’s group of rebels and Meifon’s smuggling between the 2 sides. There’s a sense of urgency that the peace can’t last and conflict is unavoidable. But, not so urgent that we couldn’t have two light-hearted episodes involving one girl becoming Kaiju sized and another episode with a beauty contest in a cultural festival.

Boy, this season of Attack on Titan got WEIRD. When the main big bad does rear her head near the final 4 episodes, the show does a good ‘enough’ job establishing the backstory between her and Mirei, but you get the sense that maybe, had the show paced itself better, it would mean more. Yes, the final battle with all the girls joining together at the end is impressive to look at, but emotionally, I just wasn’t feeling it. If the show were as committed to giving me emotional turning points as it was fan service, I would’ve been more impressed. The characters are also rather lacking (writing wise). While Mirei is certainly admirable and one of the most likable of the cast, Mamori doesn’t really change much (character wise). Granted, the show pays lipservice (no pun intended) to the idea that the more courageous Mamori is, the more powerful the weapon she becomes, but there’s never that moment where Mamori ‘saves’ Mirei or gives her the comfort Mirei needs like the way Himeko comforted Chikane at the end. They instead fuse to one super being. It feels like at one point Mamori was supposed to have the final turning point and be the one to rescue Mirei, but Mamori just ends up being captured and put into the damsel role again. I also liked Kasumi and her dubious allegiance with the rebels as well as Meifon, getting into all sorts of trouble for some cash. I’m told by fans of the franchise that in peripheral media, some of the other couples get more character development. For example, the team of Lady Rain and Lady J were actually on opposite sides of a war but intentionally got themselves captured just to be together or that Governor Akira actually has a female lover back on the mainland and longs to be with her. Again, I am not here to judge what’s in an appendix. What’s in the show is in the show and it’s clear the TV producers weren’t interested in those stories to begin with, so why should I?   Funimation Entertainment did the localization for the show. And for the most part, the dub script stays as close as it does to the original Japanese version. Granted, Funimation has always played it loose with dubbing scripts and this is no exception. The English script contains lots of innuendos and sex jokes to make the English viewers chuckle (i.e. “I caught and she pitched.” “Let’s go digging for treasure” “I’m gonna let it all hang out!”) Karbowski adopts a southern accent for Meifon so thick, I thought I was listening to Nico Robin from the 4Kids dub of One Piece. (I’m aware that localizers tend to translate those with Kansai dialect and give them a Southern accent and Karbowski seems to be doing this accent winking to the audience and having fun with it). Special credit should go to Janelle Lutz as Akira Hiragi, managing to perform dual roles as both masculine and feminine variations of the character. The rest of the cast does a good job voicing their perspective roles. Monica Rial does with she can with Charlotte and Cynthia Cranz as Torumi seems to especially fit the role of a motherly caretaker for lost girls. (Yes, I find the fact that one of the characters is voiced by the same performer as Chi-chi and Botan very disconcerting). THE ORIGINAL JAPANESE AUDIO WITH SUBTITLES IS AVAILABLE FOR THOSE WHO PREFER IT. The package includes the OVAs (Original Video Animation) which are short videos of each of the girls revealing motivation and backstory as well as a lot of nudity with nipples becoming more and more erect. Lots of them. What’s weird is that the OVAs are also dubbed with the cast members. Funimation didn’t even dub the OVA for Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid. CAVEAT: It’s very strange that the series suddenly wants to take a more dramatic turn with emphasis on character development and history, but still plays out in a very fanservice driven anime. In some ways, I was enjoying the show more when it wasn’t really about anything and just amped the fanservice up to 11. With the exception of a few characters, I wasn’t invested in the goings on and 12 episodes is too short for me to have nostalgic feelings for Mermaid Island. For 50 USD, Valkyrie Drive: Mermaid is a bit on the steep end. While the animation, music, fight scenes and… PLOT are all well done, emotionally, it doesn’t have much to offer. Then again, I don’t expect emotional substance out of show where half the teenagers become sexually aroused and transform into weapons. Those looking for a happy ending (in both senses of the term) will enjoy this. Verdict: Wait for a sale or rental.  

[veliseraptor]

I know I just did one of these but they’re good when I’m indecisive and I’m indecisive and have a plane ride so help me internet kenobi

just nine this time - options (with excerpts! including a bit of original fic!) under the cut.

1. “Xandar wasn’t just attacked,” Carol said. “It was destroyed. Razed. We - me and a ship of Skrull refugees - were heading there when I heard the distress signal. By the time I got there, it was too late.” Her jaw tightened, and Steve recognized the mixture of anger and frustration that briefly burned in her eyes. 

“Half the population was dead,” Loki said, his voice empty. “And the Power Stone was gone.”

Carol’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know that?” she asked sharply.

Loki’s lips twisted. “Lucky guess,” he said, both dry and bitter, and then glanced away and said, “because this isn’t entirely unexpected, and I am familiar with the perpetrator.”

“‘Familiar with,’” Carol said. Thor shifted. 

“Loki was his prisoner,” he said, and Steve suspected it was to forestall what Loki might say. The sharp look Loki shot him suggested that he probably would have put it differently. [we live until we die]

2. [Steve Rogers’ Halfway House for Notorious Supervillains]

3. He was still there when I got back, though. Right about where I’d left him, sitting on the bed with his hands folded between his knees and looking down at the floor so mostly I could just see his tangled mess of hair. He looked up quick when the door opened, though, skew eyes saucer-round. 

“Hey,” I said. “It’s okay.” 

He didn’t move, just kept staring at me like I might attack him if he didn’t watch out. His hands twisted together and he looked like he was waiting for something. For me to do something, and he wasn’t looking forward to it neither.

“You hungry?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No,” he said, and his voice had gone all weird and whispery, and I thought well, so much for him staying topside. [Riding With the Ghost]

4. So with a casual-but-friendly ‘see you later, angel,’ he took off into the desert heading west. Technically he ought to go to Hell and report back on a successful temptation, but he didn’t really feel like it. Nobody needed to know he’d already finished the assignment. Crawly was keen on finding out what the rest of the world had in it, and not so keen on trudging back down to crowded Hell where nobody said five words without a threat and everything smelled a bit like sour milk.

Just a little freedom, he told himself. Bit of a break. 

The angel found him before he’d even hit the edge of the desert. [Five Hundred Ways to Discorporate a Demon]

5. “Does that make me your mark?” Sjofn asked. Loki grinned at her. 

“I rather thought I was yours,” he said. 

Sjofn chuckled. “An interesting idea.” Her free hand brushed his jawline, as she had at their first meeting, and then trailed down his neck. Loki felt a shiver crawl down his spine, what had been curiosity rapidly turning into something more…acute. “And in that scenario…what is it I would have marked you for?” 

“That…I am sure I could not tell you.” He could stop this here, Loki thought. While it was still a game. He could. 

But he was a little tipsy, and a lot curious, and the way Sjofn was looking at him as though she wanted to devour him was making his whole body feel hot. Loki had lain with his fair share of women – and others – but feeling quite so pursued…that was new. [Subordination]

6. Thor looked like he wanted to grind his teeth. “I can control myself.” Loki scoffed, and Thor’s fists clenched. “I can. I have controlled myself with you, have I not? I’ve refrained from strangling you.”

Loki was glad he wasn’t looking at Thor so his brother couldn’t see the twitch of his expression. That stung, more than it should have, and he brushed it aside as quickly as he could. “And I applaud your restraint. But let’s not test it further, shall we?” 

Thor made a sound like a dragon about to breathe fire. “You test me.” 

Loki spun on his heel. “Would you rather I’d left you to die?” he snapped. “I might have. It would certainly have been easier.”

Thor opened his mouth and then visibly reined himself in. Loki turned from him again with a ‘tch’ sound and stared moodily out the window at the dubious view. “No,” Thor said at length and slightly more moderately. “Of course not. I am...grateful.”

“I’d believe that more if it didn’t sound like you were chewing a lemon when you said it.” [Speak every man the truth]

7. “There’s caution, and then there’s constant assumption of bad faith,” Rogers said doggedly. “You think I have an ulterior motive for everything I do.”

“Don’t you?” 

“No,” Rogers said. “I don’t. Sometimes people really are just - generous. Or kind. Or considerate. Not everyone is secretly out to get you.” 

“Just most of your planet,” Loki said. “And an entire Realm. And-” He cut off, and correct himself. “Among others.”

“It’s gotta be exhausting,” Rogers said. “Thinking like that. Is that what it’s like with Thor?”

No. Sometimes. “No,” Loki said. “It is not.” 

“Is there anyone else you trust?” 

Valkyrie? Not entirely. Heimdall? With Asgard’s best interests, yes; with himself, no. Frigga, once, but she’d been gone for years. “No.” 

Rogers’ expression softened, the corner of his mouth tugging briefly downward. “That sounds incredibly lonely.”

Loki’s teeth clicked together and he almost flinched. “I endure,” he said coldly, and started walking. [the first steps stumbling forward]

8. The body was a man with dark red hair, lanky, dressed in black despite the sweltering heat. He’d been stabbed, Ella estimated, at least twenty to twenty-five times - “serious overkill.” There were broken sunglasses next to his head like someone had ripped them off and stomped on them a couple times. 

But all of that was ignoring the truly remarkable thing about the scene: namely, the man’s eyes. Wide open and dull yellow from lid to lid, thin lines of black marking vertical pupils. 

“Whoa,” Ella said, on first seeing them. “Intense. Are those contacts?”

“No,” Lucifer said, and for once didn’t sound in the least amused, or cavalier. “I’m fairly certain those are his real eyes.”

“Pretty serious body-modding,” Ella said. 

“Oh, they’re not a modification,” Lucifer said. “They’ve always looked like that.” [Meet Me On the Other Side]

9. On the third anniversary of his defeat, Kazem didn’t get out of bed.

The first year he’d stayed out of the way of the celebrations out of a sense of propriety and because of the fact that he was still coughing up blood every time he tried standing for longer than thirty seconds at a time. The second year he tried attending, thinking that he should pay his respects, show some sort of regret or remorse or...something. 

He’d nearly gotten himself hanged. 

So the third year, he woke up in the morning and stared at the ceiling, and made the very deliberate decision that today he was just going to...not. [the ex-villain original project]

[rayegunn]

Thor ramble

Preview for Thor is out: https://www.adventuresinpoortaste.com/2020/03/06/marvel-preview-thor-4-2/  I felt the need to ramble about it. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good ramble here.

First off, to Sif Bifrosting Mjolnir away.... hehehehe... good trick. And Thor deserves it right now. He needs to have his toys taken away until he behaves, I don't give a damn if he's king, he’s being an ass. Not that he will, probably, looks like he's about to throw a tantrum there, but still. I mean look at that, he's already beaten a close friend of his to a pulp and destroyed his hammer, and now Sif, his ex lover and current friend, and now guardian of the Bifrost, shows up to defend Bill and repeat what should be a uncontroversial opinion, that helping Galactus to destroy inhabited planets, and beating up your friends, is wrong, and his response is to hurl the hammer at her head. I mean I thought Thor was being a dick when he threw it at Loki, despite Loki's past, but THIS? Much worse. I get that he feels the fate of the universe is on the line, and that sacrifices need to be made towards that end, which mitigates it some, but... there has to be a better way to resolve this conflict than with violence. Thor has been acting all hyper-aggressive and, well, toxic from issue 1, and just seems to be getting worse. I see a lot of Thor fans glad that he's like, really powerful and kicking ass, and I don't get it. Is him being powerful worth it if he loses his soul and sacrifices his morals in the process? tho I have never gotten the obsession some fans with characters being powerful, it's always been much more important to me that they are interesting characters first and foremost, and that usually means they have flaws and weaknesses and can't just steamroll everything. I do think a story exploring power vs morals with Thor, where he sacrifices his morals for power in order to achieve a greater good could be interesting and could end up adding more depth to the character, so I am not saying the story is bad... but it is still sad to see him possibly fall  from grace, same as it would be for any character in that position, and all the power in the universe doesn't make up for that. In Aaron's run, his unworthyness wasn't really a fault of his character, it was a technicality. He was still the same guy, morally, as he was before (tho he did go through a rough patch due to depression) it was just he lost the whole 'knowing you're unworthy but trying anyway' thing that apparently is a major box that needs to be ticked for Mjolnir to allow itself to be lifted. This though, I am seeing what he's doing, and I think to myself that it's no wonder the hammer is getting heavier, because this really is the sort of 'doing evil things for a greater good' deal that I could see Loki doing rather than Thor. If Loki was doing this, it would still be a very murky situation, but it would be in line with his past actions and morals. But for Thor, it's a fall, and that kind of makes his actions feel worse. I'm more upset  at him doing these things than I would be if it were Loki, because Loki has already done this kind of shit before. Recently, even. Maybe not on quite the same scale, I can't think of any planets Loki has blown up off the top of my head, (in the present/past, not counting King Thor) but same sort of morally questionable tactics, so  it would not be that unexpected for him.

I'm betting that Thor will successfully deal with the Black Winter using these tactics, despite various characters, such as Bill and Sif here, standing against him, and that will make him feel everything he did was just and right, he will feel vindicated. And yeah, you could make an argument for that, depending on what he does, I mean, the universe continuing to exist when it otherwise would have died is a bit hard to argue with. And many fans will support his actions because the ultimate outcome was good. But... it may be the start of a slippery slope that he slides downwards on. If these tactics worked out here, why not in a different situation with lower stakes? Will the justification he needs to do these things become less with time? And he will fall, not like Aaron's run where he was unworthy but not immoral, an actual fall from grace where he loses his way. And he, and many fans, may not even realize it until it's too late. Hell, some fans will NEVER get it if he goes bad. I mean, I’m not saying people have to stop liking him as a character, but you can like a character while acknowledging they are not the most morally upstanding person. Liking Punisher doesn't necessarily mean you support gun toting vigilantes wandering the streets, right? I hope, anyway. Like, I think lots of things Loki has done have been pretty scummy, even recently, but that doesn't make him an uninteresting character, I still really like him as a character even if i disagree with some of his actions. Though Loki's trajectory is good right now, while he is still prone to morally murky actions, he's moving in the right direction, his actions right now are comparatively better than they used to be, so I am hopeful he can continue to  improve. But Thor’s trajectory, if this trend continues, is not good, his actions right now are comparatively worse than he has been previously. It's kind of funny, or sad, that as Loki is moving away from these 'bad acts for a greater good' methods, Thor is embracing them, and they may end up still as antagonists, but on opposite sides. (I want them to be friends tho :( ) But some fans (of lots of things, not just Thor) really seem to have a lot of trouble understanding that the protagonist is not always right by default, and they think anyone who stands in the protagonist's way is the bad guy, even if it is clearly a villain protagonist, (see: Breaking Bad) which is bizarre to me.  And I suspect the same will happen with Thor, even if he does not go THAT bad, and just... gray. Comics have long had a bit of a problem with fans completely missing the point when it comes to the morality the books are trying to get across; you somehow have some overtly bigoted X-Men fans, and alt-right Cap fans, etc. it's bizarre sometimes how completely some readers/viewers can miss a critique of something in a work, and the same thing will likely happen here, where the point may be that he’s losing his way, but fans think he’s in the right.

Where did she send Mjolnir, though, i wonder? I have long suspected Thor would have to give up Mjolnir, but because he is all-Father now. Aaron set up a situation with roles that need to be filled, and several other characters have stepped into new ones, Jane is Valkyrie, Sif took Heimdall’s role, Balder is King of the Norns, it looks as though Tyr is going to take Loki’s place as God of Chaos, (though it may be Loki’s solo series was more of a spoiler than most people thought, where Thor was the big bad at the end of time, trying to destroy the Earth, and Thor goes full on bad guy instead, though i am holding out hope for merely gray which he can rebound from after learning a lesson) Loki is King of Jotunheim (tho i suspect there is something more in store for him, given all the teases with him and Mjolnir) and I really like this. I know some people find comfort in an unchanging status quo, but I have always found it boring, and one of the reasons I have been all over Loki the past 10 years or so is that he has been undergoing character development and changing, and I find that interesting. So to have it suddenly applied to Asgard as a whole, where everything is shuffled around and characters are in new roles is something I find very interesting, and I want to see where it leads, and I hope it doesn’t all just revert to the old default status quo. But Thor stepped into his role as king, but didn’t want to give up his old role, and I think that has to give at some point. He has to choose, even if he was not doing some morally dubious shit, All-Father OR hero of the realms, can’t do both at the same time. After last issue, i thought Bill might, at least temporarily, take Mjolnir from Thor, (though, since he has no ties to Earth 99% of the time, I don't think he is right fit to fill Thor's old role permanently) but now it's who knows where, so maybe not. But he's still had Stormbreaker destroyed. :-/ anyway, it has to be really far away, or Thor's just going to call it back in like 2 seconds, not quite sure how far away they are relative to Asgard/Earth, so sending it back there may be far enough... or maybe Jotunheim? Though not sure why Sif would do that. But it could turn the scene with Loki in issue 1 into foreshadowing, if it pops out of the Bifrost coming for his head and stops again. May also be a catalyst to have Thor attack Jotunheim, even tho Loki had nothing to do with this.  But it may also be too easy for him to find in those locations, if she really wants to keep it from him until he calms down, it would be better to send it to some dusty moon orbiting an uninhabited world  around a distant star. Though with Sif controlling the Bifrost, she could simply refuse to send him anywhere near it, regardless of it's location. He may be king, but she has the power in this situation. Also, I wonder how it's trajectory works. Will it carry on with just the momentum it has on the other side of the Bifrost, eventually falling to the ground or hitting something on the other side, or will it try to continue towards his intended target? Though I suppose it doesn't matter too much, if he can summon it no matter how far away it is, so it will be on it's way back to them either way. Though it may be that it is out of range, he may not be able to call it if he doesn't know it's location, (he asked where it was, so he doesn't seem to be able to sense it) or if it's just too far away.

[ghostofviperwrites]

Debauchery

Pairing:  Seiya Sanada/FCs/Evil

Category:  Smut

Evil and Sanada’s night of celebration following winning the tag team titles.  

Warnings:  So many warnings…language, choking, fighting, knife play, blood play, BDSM play, dubious consent, reluctance, manipulation, humiliation.

Please keep in mind this is fiction.  Fantasy.  Relationships dealing with BDSM require trust and communication.   What happens in this story contains none of that.  It’s pretend.   Do not use this story as a basis for what those types of relationships should be.  

Comments and reblogs appreciated as always!  Enjoy!

Seiya Sanada stared at his reflection in the mirror, hands moving to smooth his black silk shirt before reaching for the diamond cufflinks on the counter.   Straightening his tie and buttoning up his vest Sanada gave himself an approving nod before grabbing his jacket and swinging it over his shoulder on his way out his condo door.  

As he drove towards Evil’s place Seiya smiled.  He was looking forward to tonight.   The last time he and Evil had gone out together had been the night they won the tag league.  It was going to be hard to top that night.  But they had just won the heavyweight tag titles so they were either going to top it or die trying.  

Evil was waiting out front when he pulled up, sliding into the passenger seat with a smirk.  

“Let’s do this pretty boy,” Evil said laughing as Sanada grimaced and rolled his eyes.  

“I told you not to call me that.” Sanada huffed pulling away from the curb with a squeal of the tires.  

“Fine.”  Evil said shortly.  “Let’s do this rich boy.”  

“Oh fuck you.”  Sanada said fighting the smile that was trying to lift his lips.  

“Pretty boy or rich boy those are your choices.”  Evil said.  

“What about Seiya?  Or Sanada?  You know, my real name.”   Sanada asked already knowing he was fighting a losing battle.  

‘Nope.”  Evil said.

“Alright you win.”  Sanada said.  “Takaaki.”

“Goddamn it Seiya!”  Evil cursed glaring at his friend who just grinned unrepentantly at him.  “You’re such an asshole.”  He grumbled.

“Yeah…cause you’re such a saint.” Sanada shot back slowing down to turn into the restaurant parking lot.  

Handing off the keys to the valet they headed inside, quickly being seated and getting their drink orders in as they perused the menu.   Once their orders were placed the two men leaned back in their chairs, running their assessing gazes over the room, evaluating whether there was any potential for starting their night of debauchery here.  

“So what’s on the agenda?”   Evil asked as he cut into his steak. “Strip club?”  

Sanada was already shaking his head. “Not a fan of strip clubs.”   He said.

“You’re not a fan of naked girls?” Evil asked skeptically.

‘No I’m definitely a fan of naked girls.  You know that.”  Sanada said rolling his eyes at Evil.   “I’m just not a fan of paying for them to get naked. Girls who do it for a living take some of the thrill away.”  

“Then what do you have in mind?”   Evil asked.  “Cause I want to see a whole lot of flesh tonight.”  

Sanada sat back, pursing his lips as he swirled his wine glass.   His gaze drifted back to the bar where the pretty little blonde was tending.  She was new and he was a little interested in giving her try.  Turning his attention back to Evil he made his suggestion.  

“Let’s go to AgeHa for a bit,” Sanada said.  “I have my suite there and it’s a good low-key place to start our night.  Then we’ll decide from there”   Evil nodded his agreement.  He hadn’t been to the club with Sanada yet, but tales of the excess that went on there were whispered about far and wide.   Kazuchika Okada also had a room there.  Between Kazu and Sanada there were enough stories that he had heard to be intrigued.  

“Put your wallet away.”  Evil said as he reached for the check once they had finished their meal.  “I’ve got dinner since we’re going to be on your dime at AgeHa.”   Sanada nodded in concession, slipping his wallet back into his pocket as Evil threw his card into the check.  

“I’ll meet you at the car.” Sanada said throwing the valet stub onto the table and heading for the bar.   Evil chuckled as he watched Sanada start flirting with the bartender.

Sanada admired the blonde as she came over to him, automatically setting a coaster on the counter.  “I don’t need that.  I’m not here for a drink.”  He stopped her, putting his hand on top of hers when she moved to walk away. “Don’t walk away from me.  I’m not done talking to you yet.”   She bit her lip glancing around nervously, not wanting to get in trouble.  

“What’s your name?”  Sanada asked, his finger stroking her hand as he kept her in place.  

“Alana.”  She replied.  Alana watched as Sanada put a gold embossed card on the bar in front of her.  

“When you get off?  Come here.”  Sanada directed.  “Give them that card.  They’ll bring you to me.  Dress pretty. Make yourself look good.”  He turned to leave issuing one last directive as he walked away.  “Don’t disappoint me by not showing up.”  

Alana watched the handsome stranger walk away feeling rather shell-shocked by his forward behavior.   Her eyes glanced at the card he had left, recognizing the name of Tokyo’s most exclusive club with his name written under it.  Seiya Sanada.   She was partly offended by him practically ordering her appearance.  He seemed so confident she would obey and she wondered how many women he had experience with to exude that confidence.  

“Sowing the seeds for the future?” Evil asked as Sanada slid into the driver’s seat.

“Sowing the seeds for tonight.” He responded flashing a wicked grin.  

“Not enough entertainment at AgeHa?” Evil said sarcastically.  

“She’ll be a different kind of entertainment.”  Sanada said. “the girls at AgeHa…they expect certain things.  They get paid to tolerate things.   It’s kind of like strippers.  Loses some of the fun if they’re getting paid to do it.  Even if technically they aren’t, they are.  She’ll be different.”

“So what time is she coming?” Evil asked laughing as Sanada shrugged in response.  

“I didn’t bother to ask.  Told her to show up when she was off work.”   Sanada said as he pulled up in front of the club.  

“We plan to do a lot of drinking tonight.”  Sanada told the valet as he handed off his keys.  “Have my car taken home and arrange for a limo for me and my friend.”  

“Yes sir.”  The valet said with a nod hurrying to do Sanada’s bidding as he and Evil walked through the doors and into the opulent club

As they entered they were immediately greeted by the scantily clad hostess who immediately escorted them up to Sanada’s private room leaving them with a bow after receiving instructions to send up a selection of women for them to choose from.   Moments later a lineup of ten waitresses was standing in the room for their inspection.  

“Take your pick Evil.  Any of them that catch your eye?”  Sanada waved his hand towards the women smiling as his friend looked them over, carefully considering each.  He could tell Evil was playing it up, drawing out the tension as the women stood nervously before him.  

“Those two.”  Evil said pointing at the ones that he liked.      

“Come here.”  Sanada directed the two women, waving them over to him. “You two stay as well.  The rest of you get out.”   He pointed at his two selections and watched as the others scurried with something akin to relief.  

“Go bring us some wine and cigars.” Sanada told one of the girls, slapping her on the ass as she scurried from the room.  “The rest of you take off your shirts and skirts and come sit with us.”  

Evil and Sanada moved to the circular sofa, the girls clad in their bra and panties joining them one on each side of Sanada and the other leaning into Evil’s side.   They waited in silence until the other waitress returned, serving them drinks and lighting their cigars before she stripped down and took her place next to Evil.   As they sat drinking and talking Sanada observed the women with them, one in particular was catching his attention in the wrong way.   He expected certain things from this club and she wasn’t meeting his expectations.   Sanada could tell she was uncomfortable and would rather be anywhere but in the room with them.   Most of the time he wouldn’t particularly care.  But tonight he was introducing Evil to this place and he wanted perfection.   He wasn’t getting it.  

Evil sat back taking a drag on his cigar, his own frustration mounting.  The woman on his right was fine, leaning into his body.  The one on the left was irritating him.  He could feel how stiff she was and any attempts at speaking to her were met with short one word answers.  It was going to be kind of hard to get his dick in her mouth if she wouldn’t open it.  Evil could tell Sanada’s temper was rising as he glared at the girl.  

“Everyone out!”  Sanada suddenly commanded sharply.  “You stay.”  He pointed at the girl on Evil’s left.  The rest of the girls scurried from the room as Sanada rose to his feet, picking his wine glass off the table and draining in it one gulp as he moved over to the counter along the wall.   There was an audible crack when he put the glass back on the marble top belying his anger.  

“I pay a lot of fucking money to this place so I don’t have to put up with bullshit attitudes.  You are paid very well to put up with whatever I may choose to do to you.”  He snarled glaring at her.   “I don’t appreciate you coming in my room, at my invitation, and acting like a stuck up bitch.  You are ruining my friend’s first time in this establishment and you are embarrassing me.”

“What generally happens to girls who don’t cooperate Seiya?” Evil asked curiously casting a sideways glance at the now terrified woman next to him.  

“They certainly don’t fucking work here anymore.”  Sanada spat. “Or any other respectable place in this city.”

“You thinking maybe you should reconsider your bitchy attitude?”  Evil stage whispered to her with a smirk making her startled glance fly to him.   “Or do you want to work in some back alley for the rest of your life?”  

“No Evil-sama I do not wish to be disgraced.”  She said softly, bowing her head and looking at her lap.  

“It would be a shame if we were to tell your employers how disrespectfully you treated us this evening wouldn’t it?”  Evil asked.

“Please don’t!”  She pled her hand flying to clasp his wrist.   “I would lose my job if you were to complain.”

“I hate to tell you sweetheart, but once you piss off Sanada, there isn’t a whole lot you can do to recover from that.  He tends to hold a grudge.”  Evil confided chuckling as her eyes flew to Sanada who still looked rather put out.  

“You wish to get back in my good graces?”  Sanada asked rolling his eyes at her eager nod, the obviously forced smile on her face not doing much to help her case.  “Suck off my friend and then we’ll see what you can do to accomplish that. Cause right now I don’t want you anywhere near me.”  

“What makes you think I want her near my dick?”  Evil asked.   “She’s been nothing but a stuck up bitch to me.  And you know how I feel about stuck up bitches.”

“It seems you’re in a bit of a situation then aren’t you?”  Sanada asked the girl as he moved back to the circle of couches.  He watched her carefully as he lit a cigar, smoke filtering up past his face.   “In a room where your sole purpose is to bring pleasure with two men who want nothing to do with you.”  

“Please, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to come across as rude.”  She plead.  Desperate she slid off the couch and onto her knees in front of Sanada her hands grasping his pants at the thighs.   “I’m sorry.  I’ll do whatever you want. Just please don’t send me away.”   A sneer ticking at the corner of his lips Sanada stepped out of her grip and took a seat back on the couch, arching a questioning eyebrow at Evil who shrugged.  

“Get naked and back on your knees.” Sanada commanded leaning back and getting comfortable, cigar in one hand, wine glass in the other.  

“Touch yourself.”  He said when she was back in position.  “Make yourself come.”   Sanada hid his smile as she hesitantly moved her hands to her body. She was hiding it better, but he could still tell she wasn’t into this situation.   It made him wonder why she had taken a job in this club.  It was no secret what went on in this place and what was expected of the girls who worked here.  Particularly the ones who worked the private rooms.  

They then proceeded to completely ignore her as she pleasured herself, trying to capture their attention.   Her agitation grew as neither one of them barely gave her a glance as she fingered herself, rubbing her swollen nub while gasps passed her lips.  Finally she pulled her fingers free with an aggravated huff.

“What’s the point?”  She snapped.  “You aren’t even watching.”  

“Have you figured out that you’re here for us, not yourself?”  Sanada asked dryly.   “We’ve already made it clear that neither of us are interested in you anymore.  That pathetic show you just put on only highlighted the point.   Couldn’t even get us hard.”  

A loud gasp caught their attention and they looked towards the door where the hostess was standing with the blonde from the restaurant.

“Apologies Sanada-Sama,,” the hostess said with an apologetic bow, sensing the immediate tension in the atmosphere.  “She had the card.”  

Sanada rose gracefully to his feet, a practiced smile falling easily on his face as he walked over to the shell shocked blonde.  

“Quite alright Hanae,”  He said.  “I’ll take it from here. Why don’t you escort that young lady out of here?”  Sanada jerked his head in the waitress’s direction and she immediately gathered her clothing and scurried out of the room, followed by the hostess closing the door softly behind her.  

“Please excuse the unpleasantness Alana.”  Sanada said smoothly bending low over her hand and kissing it sending shivers up her arm.   “Come, join us in having a glass of wine.”  He gestured for her to precede him over to the couches taking a long look at her ass showcased to perfection in a white mini dress   He was pleased she had followed his instructions to make herself look good.   He smirked at Evil behind her back receiving a small approving nod in return.  

Alana sat gingerly on the edge of the couch, watching as the other man in the room poured her a glass of wine and handed to her with a gracious head nod.  

“Alana, this is my friend Evil.  Evil this is Alana.”   Sanada introduced the two, taking a seat next to Alana and purposefully allowing his knee to brush against hers in a seemingly innocent movement.  

Sanada worked carefully, taking his time in keeping Alana plied with wine as both he and Evil made charming small talk, making her quickly drop her guard as she relaxed in their company, forgetting the scene she had walked in on and Sanada’s abruptness with her at the restaurant.   Her head was spinning at being the center of attention by two handsome men, and Sanada’s light flirty touches were sending buzzes of pleasure straight to her core.  

Soon she was leaning into his side, Sanada’s arm around her shoulder and fingers dancing along her upper arm.   His fingers moved to her hair, brushing the silky strands behind her ear and leaning in flicking the tip of his tongue over the lobe.   A triumphant smile lifted his lips as she didn’t offer a sound of protest, his free hand dropping to caress the bare skin of her thigh.  

“How are you feeling baby?”  Sanada asked, his voice dropping low, husky in her ear.  “Am I making you feel good.”  His fingers stroked along her creamy thigh, dipping in the crevice between her legs as a shiver racked through her body.  

“Yes, so good.”  Alana said biting her lip as Sanada sucked at the spot behind her ear.

“You want us to make you feel really good?”  He asked giving Alana pause.  

“Us?” she asked unsure, eyes flying to where Evil was sitting, his gaze intent on them.  

“Yes us.  You feel how good I’m making you feel.  Just imagine if both of our hands were all over your tight little body.”  he cajoled pressing a kiss to her cheek his breath fanning over her face, intoxicating her.  

“I…I don’t know.”  Alana said casting another curious glance at Evil.  

“Have you ever been with two men at once?”  Evil asked rising from his couch and moving to sit next to Alana.  He kept his eyes on her face as he placed his hand on her other thigh giving it an encouraging squeeze.  

“No.”  Alana admitted her eyes darting between the two men who had her in between them.

“Do you want us to make you feel good?  Both of us lavishing you with attention.  Our tongues all over your body?”  Sanada said.  “Let us make you feel good.”  

Alana’s breath hitched as Evil’s hand moved past Sanada’s pushing up under her skirt and coming to a stop at her core, pushing his thumb against her clit through the panties.  

“I wanna put my fingers inside you.” Evil said, his mouth close to her other ear.  “Will you let me do that?  I’ll make you feel so good fucking you with my hand.”   Alana found herself nodding without thinking shifting anxiously on her cushion as she imagined those thick fingers pleasuring her.   “Good girl.  I’m going to make you feel so damn good.”  

Alana’s attention was pulled back to Sanada as he ran his fingers down her cheek bone and turned her face to his.   Her eyes were wide as she stared back at him, subconsciously opening her thighs to give Evil the access he was seeking as Sanada pressed his mouth to hers, his tongue sweeping across her lips before pushing inside.   She gasped into his mouth when Evil pushed aside her panties and slid his fingers into her.  

Sanada deepened the kiss, pulling her towards him so she shifted up onto her knees allowing Evil to push her skirt up over her hips and pull her panties down to her knees.   She moaned as his thumb stroked across her clit, rubbing the nub as he slid a finger into her and moved it slowly in and out of her.   Alana moved her hands to the back of Sanada’s neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss as her hips reflexively bucked into Evil’s hand.  

“Is he making you feel good Alana?” Sanada asked his hands leaving her face and moving to push the straps of her dress down, baring her tits to their view. His fingers danced across her breasts, tweaking the nipples lightly once again making her moan, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure.   Sanada kissed down her neck, lightly biting the crook of it and continued playing with her nipples as Evil added another finger to her pussy and scissored them as she pushed herself back on his hand.  “That’s a good girl, fuck his hand.  I want you to come all over him.”   He said moving back to her mouth and kissing her deeply his tongue stroking hers as she chased after her orgasm.  

“Come on girl.  Drench my fingers.”  Evil said curling his fingers inside her and giving them a twist making her shudder around his fingers.   “Show me how good I’m making you feel.”  

Alana buried her head in Sanada’s chest, clutching his shirt as she came with a loud cry, panting heavily as she came down.  

“He’s really good at that isn’t he?” Sanada asked Alana, trailing his hand down her cheekbone smirking as she nodded into his chest.   “Evil made you feel good.  Made you come.  Don’t you think you should make him feel good too?”  

“I want to make him feel good.” Alana said looking up at Sanada with wide innocent eyes.  

“And what about me?”  Sanada asked.  “Do you want to make me feel good too?”  Alana shivered as Evil’s hands trailed across her ass, the light touch sending goosebumps across her skin as he played with her flesh.  

“I do.”  Alana said with a nod, smiling as Sanada pressed a kiss to her forehead with a whispered good girl.   She was helped to her feet and her dress stripped off leaving her nude before the two fully dressed men.   She tried not to fidget under their inspection of her until Evil grabbed her hand and lead her over to the bed along the wall of windows in the room, helping her lay on top of it, her ass resting on the edge and nudging her knees apart.   Alana watched with rapt attention as he began to strip, tossing aside his clothing piece by piece and revealing his thick muscular body to her eyes.   Her eyes focused on his cock, thick and ready jutting out between his legs as he climbed onto the bed next to her head.   She was startled when Sanada suddenly appeared between her thighs and wondered how she had missed him undressing, drinking in the perfection of his body as he knelt between her legs.   Feeling a coldness on her thigh she looked surprised to find a wine bottle in Sanada’s hand and he flashed her a pearly smile placing a kiss on her inner thigh.   She didn’t have further time to ponder what Sanada was up to as Evil’s cock suddenly appeared at her lips and Alana opened her mouth to grant him access.  

She tried to focus on sucking Evil as she felt Sanada’s breath hot on her core before a long swipe of his tongue through her slit made her hum around Evil’s cock.   Pressing a kiss to her clit Sanada gave it one more lick before kissing up and around her stomach and sucking on her nipples teasing them into pebbled peaks before kissing back down and stopping at her belly button.  Alana was startled and almost pulled off Evil’s cock as cold wine was poured into her belly button.   Her movements paused on Evil as Sanada sucked the liquid out, his tongue swirling around her navel before he poured some more in a trail down to the top of her mouth.   He slowly sucked the wine off her skin leaving a trail of red marks in his path.

Evil gave a slight tug on Alana’s hair to remind her she was neglecting him and Alana returned her attention to sucking his cock, running her tongue around his thickness making Evil grunt in pleasure.   She wasn’t expecting the cool wine to be poured on her pussy making her jolt as Sanada covered her pussy and licked it with long practiced strokes.   Once again Alana lost herself in the pleasure Sanada was creating and stopped sucking Evil as Sanada buried his tongue deeply inside her making Alana buck against his mouth.  

“Sweetheart.”   Evil growled giving a harsher tug on her blonde locks. “I know you’re new to this, but you’re fucking two guys.  You have to pay attention to both of us.  If you don’t Sanada is going to stop what he’s doing because you can’t focus.”  

“I’m sorry,” Alana pouted. “Please don’t stop.  I’ll remember.”   To prove her point she slid Evil back into her mouth, sucking deeply on him and making sure her tongue was rubbing his length as she bobbed.   Alana settled into a rhythm, making sure to focus on Evil as Sanada’s tongue worked her over.  He must have put the bottle down as both his hands gripped her hips and pulled her closer to his face, burying his tongue deeply inside her and fucking her with it until she was screaming around Evil’s cock, juices pouring into Sanada’s mouth as she came once again, shuddering against him as he continued to stroke her with his tongue as she came.  

Sanada rose to his feet and Evil reacted pulling out of Alana’s mouth and pulling her up the bed before putting himself back in her mouth.  Sanada knelt on the bed between her thighs, rubbing the tip of his cock through her juices getting it nice and wet before sliding into her warm pussy.   He quickly settled into a rhythm, thrusting in and out of her as Evil fucked her mouth, his hands playing with her nipples as she took him into her throat.   Sanada rubbed his thumb over her clit in tight circles making her whimper once again as pleasure heated in her core.  

“You got one more for me girl?” Sanada asked, his breath starting to come in quick pants as he neared climax.   “I want to feel you coming around my cock before I let Evil fuck you.”  

“I can’t.”  Alana gasped as Evil pulled out of her throat, her hand moving to stroke his thickness.  “Please, I can’t anymore.”

“You can.  You will.”  Sanada said flicking her clit and making Alana whimper again.   “Come.  Now.” He demanded and Alana was shocked as she did, pleasure overwhelming her as his fingers pinched her bundle of nerves.   With a grunt Sanada pulled out of her still pulsing pussy and slid off the bed, moving to take Evil’s now vacated place at her mouth.  

Alana found herself with Sanada buried in her mouth and Evil shoving into her pussy before she knew what was happening and worked to focus on pleasuring Sanada as Evil fucked her.   Her tongue swirled around Sanada, licking over his slit as her hand encircled his shaft and stroked it.  With a final thrust Evil grunted and came inside her as Sanada thrust hard and buried himself in the back of her throat, coming as Alana buried her nails in his hip as she tried to concentrate on swallowing.

When he pulled out of her mouth Sanada stepped back off the bed, moving around to his clothing and silently dressing as Alana lay panting on the bed trying to gather herself.   She had never imagined herself being with two men at the same time.  Still wasn’t quite sure what had come over her, but she was happy nonetheless.   Pushing herself up on her elbows Alana looked at the two men she had just slept with, moving around the room fully dressed as if she wasn’t still laying her naked.  

“So, um, what now?”  Alana asked.  Their heads shot in her direction and Alana wondered if they had completely forgotten her presence based on their reaction.   Her nerves returned as they stared silently at her before looking at each other and seeming to have a silent conversation.   She anxiously pulled the bed sheet around her, feeling completely exposed and out of her element.  

“Now we are going to go downstairs, pick a few women and some booze and then we’re going to go find some trouble in this town.”   Evil said brusquely.   “You can either come along or get lost.  We don’t really give a fuck either way.”  

Alana’s mouth dropped open, shock coursing through her at their casual dismissal.   She was hurt and didn’t know why.  She also wasn’t sure why she wasn’t immediately cursing at them and grabbing her clothes and getting the hell out of there.   Maybe it was the wine she had consumed, but a part of her wasn’t quite ready to walk away yet.  Probably the same part that had gotten her here in the first place despite how rudely Sanada had treated her when he had issued the invitation.  The same part that hadn’t turned and walked out when she had seen that naked girl kneeling before them in humiliation when she had arrived.  

Rising unsteadily from the bed Alana grabbed her dress and slipped it over her head then searching for her panties.   A clearing throat caught her attention and she looked up to see her white lace panties dangling from Sanada’s finger.   She reached towards them, only for him to pull them back with a smirk.  

“You take these you leave.”  He said.  “You plan on hanging around they stay with me.”   Alana paused, her arm still outstretched as she found herself in a moment of truth.   Was she going to follow her instincts that were screaming at her to run from these predators or was she going to listen to her body that was begging for more of what they had already given her.      Her hand dropped without her even making a conscious decision, and she wondered why she had done that as a triumphant grin split Sanada’s lips.   He was going to enjoy seeing just how far they could push her.   She was already proving so easy to manipulate.  

“Let’s get this show on the road then.”  Evil announced slipping on his jacket and leading the trio out of the room.     Alana hovered behind Sanada’s back as they paused at the bottom of the stairs looking over the crowded dance floor.   She was startled when he reached behind him and pulled her around, pulling her body back flush with his.  His lips connected with the side of her neck and she could feel him hardening against her as his hands moved up her waist to cup her tits.   Sanada’s thumbs brushed over her nipples making them pebble and stand out prominently through the thin fabric of her dress.   Alana could feel the heat pooling between her thighs once again as he nibbled on her ear. She was lost in feelings of pleasure as he whispered naughty delights to her making her pulse quicken.  

“Go pick us a couple pretty ones.” Sanada told her after a few moments, giving her ass a squeeze as he and Evil separated from her, leaving her standing alone in disbelief.   He had her so turned on and had just walked away, leaving her wanting more.  She was willing to do almost anything to get his tongue back on her, to get Evil’s fingers buried inside her again. Swallowing her pride and once again wondering what the hell was compelling her to allow this Alana stepped out onto the floor, feeling dirty for even thinking about selecting women for her companions.   Snagging a wine glass off a passing waitress’s tray Alana quickly downed it as she eyed the exit.  Wondering if she should run or if she was willing to humiliate herself further at Sanada’s bequest.  She tried to find Evil or Sanada through the crowd, but they had disappeared.   Finally with a defeated sigh Alana began looking over the women in the crowd, unsure of what exactly they were looking for and hoping she found something they found appealing.  

Meanwhile Sanada made his way to the manager of the club, grabbing the man’s tie and yanking him by it so he could growl in his ear.  

“Your staff was inexcusable tonight. I expect complete and utter compliance when I am in your establishment and my expectations were not met.” Sanada hissed.  “If I ever see that bitch in this or any of your sister clubs again you can kiss my patronage goodbye.”   He pushed the man away from him and talked back onto the dance floor confident his message had been received loud and clear.   He also knew he spent more than enough money here that they would take a pretty big hit to their bottom line if he were to leave the club.  

He saw Evil heading towards him with a grin, a couple of bottles of whisky in each hand and a girl on each arm.  

“Is that enough?”  Sanada asked with a nod to the bottles of liquor.  

“They’re going to throw a few bottles of champagne in the limo.”  Evil said.   “I just grabbed this shit.”  

Sanada nodded and looked around the dance floor wondering which of these women were going to be joining them.  

“Don’t tell me I snagged pussy before you pretty boy.”  Evil said finally noting Sanada’s lack of companions.   “I thought this was your turf?”   Sanada graced him with a withering glare.

“I was dealing with other business thank you very much.”  He spat.   “Give me two minutes.”   Walking away from his friend Sanada��s eyes roamed quickly over potential targets, finding the first and walking towards her. A few low sultry words in her ear and she eagerly followed him as he easily gathered  two girls on his arms and met back up with Evil with time to spare.   This time it was Evil who rolled his eyes and shook his head at the ease Sanada attracted women.    When Alana appeared at their side with two more women the two men smiled.

“Who knew she would be so good at picking up ass?”   Evil said laughing loudly as Alana blushed.  

“Well done Alana.   Keep up the good work and I may just let you have your panties back.”  Sanada said with a wink, leading the group out the exit and to the waiting limo. True to their word there were several bottles of champagne on ice when they climbed aboard.  Glasses were quickly filled while Evil declined electing to chug from his bottle.  

Sanada took a sip of champagne and glanced around the crowded limo pursing his lips as he considered his options.

“You.”  He said pointed at a petite black haired girl.  “Come sit on my dick.”   With a giggle she moved across the seats and planted herself on Sanada’s lap, straddling his waist.   Alana watched silently, trying to control her jealously as the girl pulled out his cock and slid onto it with ease, rocking her hips on him as Sanada leaned back on the seat with his eyes closed letting her do all the work.   She pouted as Evil pulled the girl next to him down on her knees and quickly had his own cock in her mouth while he fondled the chest of the girl next to him.

The limo drove around aimlessly with partners being switched between the two men with regularity and the occasional stops at bars along the way as either Sanada or Evil would spot someplace they wanted to check out.  

They were now hanging out in the corner booth of a rundown hole in the wall, Sanada clutching a bottle of the expensive whisky as he refused to drink the cheap crap tonight.  Not when he had an alternative readily available.  Evil had been giving him nonstop shit about it, but Sanada refused to budge.  He wasn’t getting drunk on shit that burned his insides when he had the good stuff at hand.   They were both well past drunk, so it was no surprise when some drunken regulars decided they wanted to hit on their girls that they took offense.   Before they knew it fists were flying and furniture was breaking.

That was how they ended up back in the limo with Evil sporting a swelling eye and Sanada a split lip.  Of course they had plenty of eager nurses ready to ease their pain so they weren’t too upset.  They got to have a nice bar fight and then have pretty women take care of them.  It was a win as far as Evil and Sanada were concerned.  

The next stop was a little café as Evil suddenly declared himself starving.  So they all piled in booths and at a veritable buffet of food.   Sanada smirked as Alana sat huffily a few booths away.  He knew exactly what he was doing to her.  Throughout the night neither he nor Evil paid any attention to her and he knew it was driving her insane.   By the time they graced her with their focus she would be ready to do whatever they wanted.    Keeping his eyes locked on her Sanada pulled the woman next to him in for a brutal kiss, running his hands over her lithe body as Alana’s eyes watched every move he made.   Pushing her off him, Sanada returned his attention to his food, knowing he was leaving Alana stewing.  Problem was, he didn’t know where to take the night from here.   They had hit up bars and restaurants, had a nice little fight, and had done plenty of fucking.  All in all quite a successful night out, but it still felt like something was missing. That was what he and Evil were discussing as one of the girls was stroking Evil off under the table.  

“Somethings missing.”  Sanada lamented.   “It’s been a hell of a night, but it needs more.”  

Evil nodded eyes briefly closing in pleasure as the hand on his cock squeezed it tightly and stroked over his tip. Evil knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to play.  But he didn’t know if Sanada would be up for it.  As much sex as Sanada had, he was rather conventional.  He may tie a girl down occasionally, but he didn’t venture into very kinky territory.   He knew Evil had a room.   A room dubbed the dungeon.  And Sanada knew that Evil was into some kinky shit, but he had no idea of the full extent. None of them really did.   But Evil had grown close to Sanada over the past few months, felt closer to him than any of their other brothers and he kind of wanted to introduce Sanada to his darker side.  Get the polished man a bit dirty.  

“We could go back to mine.” Evil suggested figuring he had nothing to lose.  

“Yours?  What are we going to do there that we haven’t already?”  Sanada asked his drunken mind not comprehending what Evil was suggesting.  

“We could take someone,” He glanced meaningfully at Alana.  “Into my dungeon.”   Evil kept his gaze on Sanada carefully watching his reaction.   He was pleased to see some curiosity lighting the other man’s eyes.  

“The dungeon?”  Sanada said mostly to himself.   He would admit to curiosity.   “What exactly are we going to do in there?”  

“Catch it all.”  Evil growled as he erupted in her hand, waylaying the conversation momentarily.   Evil’s hand grabbed her wrist and pulled it above the table, letting everyone see the come coating it.   Pushing the hand towards one of the other girl’s Evil held it to her lips.   “Clean her.”   He sat back watching as the second girl licked and sucked his come off the first girl’s hand as he tucked himself back into his pants.  

“I’m going to teach you how to play.” Evil said with a smirk.  “Maybe I’ll even let you use my knives.”  

“Knives?”  Sanada asked, eyes widening as he looked at Evil in shock.

“I like to play with knives.” Evil said with a nod.   “It’s a lot of fun.”  

Sanada’s mind raced and he found himself intrigued at the possibilities.  He wondered what else Evil had hidden in that dungeon of his.  

“Okay.”  Sanada nodded slowly.  “Your place it is.”  

Needless to see their girls were not happy when Evil threw a stack of money on the table and told them to find their own ways home.  Their time was up.   They turned deaf ears to the complaints and curses erupting around them, Evil telling Alana to get out of the booth and come with them as he walked past.   She was quick to oblige, scurrying after them and into the waiting car grateful to be the sole focus of their attention again.

“This is your chance to leave.” Evil said before the limo pulled away. “We’re taking you somewhere that is going to give you as much pain as it is pleasure.   You continue on with us there is no safe word.  You will take whatever we do to you.   Are you in or out?”   He asked.  

Alana swallowed nervously, wondering what she was getting herself into neither of their faces giving her any clues as to their thoughts.  

“In.”  She said coming to her decision.  There was no way she was walking away now.  Not when she had just gotten their attention back.  

“Good girl.”  Sanada said.  “Come here.” He patted his leg and she eagerly climbed in his lap shifting anxiously as she hoped he would touch her.   “You remember how good we made you feel earlier? How many times we made you come?”   Alana nodded her head, spreading her legs as Sanada’s hand crept between her thighs, his fingers meeting with the bare flesh of her pussy.  

“Push your dress up and spread your legs wide.”  Evil interrupted. “I want to watch you get finger fucked.”   Alana blushed but complied pushing her dress over her hips and spreading her legs as she balanced on Sanada’s knee, his fingers never stopping their movements.   Alana was keenly aware of Evil as he watched her with hooded eyes, taking the occasional drag from his now almost empty bottle as Sanada’s fingers pushed inside her.  

“See how wet and dripping she is Evil?”   Sanada asked as his fingers sluiced through her juices, the sound audible in the car.   A third finger was added and he stretched his fingers apart opening her as he pushed in past his knuckles and she moaned loudly.   Evil moved closer to them, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her mouth to his at an awkward angle.  His tongue delved into her mouth for a deep kiss before he retracted with a snap of his teeth on the tender flesh of her bottom lip making her moan once again.  

“I think she likes that Evil.” He chuckled.  “That’s good that you like some pain.  You’re in store for a lot tonight.”  

“I am?”  Alana stuttered, her breath starting to come in quick pants as Sanada increased the movements of his fingers, curling them inside her as he brought her to the edge.  

“You are.”  Evil confirmed.  “We’re going to make you hurt so fucking good.”   With those words Alana came, screaming as her head flew back and she rode out her orgasm.  

“Now welcome to my playground.”   Evil said as the limo stopped in front of his house.   He led the trio though his home to the stairs that led to the basement.   He glanced at his friend with a critical gaze. “You may want to leave your coat out here.  It’s probably going to get a bit messy.”   Sanada’s eyebrows almost reached his hairline and for a second he wondered just what he got himself into.  But he trusted Evil so he shrugged and slid out of his designer jacket and hung it by the door before following Evil and Alana down the stairs.  

“C’mon pretty boy, let me show you how to have some real fun.”  Evil said as they stepped into the room.

“Call me pretty boy one more time I’m gonna stab you with one of those knives you’re so fond of.”  Sanada grumbled pausing in the entry to look over the room.

It was black.  Of course it was.  Sanada probably would’ve been shocked if it were any other color.   The flooring was wall to wall black and grey marble and there were grey and white accents along the walls.   Soft dim lighting illuminated the room, casting angry looking shadows throughout creating an altogether intimidating picture.   Judging by the look on Alana’s face it was working.   She looked like a rabbit caught in a trap.  He looked over various apparatus throughout the room readily admitting he had no clue what most of them were for.  Featured prominently on the wall was an impressive array of knives of all shapes and sizes, each looking sharper than the last.  For one of the rare times in his life Sanada was out of his element.   Yet he found he was surprisingly drawn to the thought of having Alana strapped down and helpless to his whims.

“You use this room often?”   Sanada asked as he moved about, getting familiar with the dungeon.  

“Not as often as I like.  See I like to cause pain. I like to hurt.  And there are precious few women who will let me do that to them.”  Evil said with an irritated shrug.  “I have a couple of girls who really like what I do to them that come over semi-regularly.”  

“Take your clothes off Alana. You aren’t going to need them down here.”  Evil said flashing her a wicked smile.  Alana slowly peeled off her dress and stepped out of her shoes, leaving her bare naked near the door as Sanada walked around the room, running his fingers over various pieces of equipment, picking things up here and there and examining them closely.   She wasn’t sure what unnerved her more, Evil’s utter confidence as he moved about the room, a master of his domain, or Sanada’s obvious inexperience and the fact he would be learning on her.  

“We’re going to start off slow. Ease my boy into this.  You ever done anything like this Alana?”  Evil asked.  

“Nothing like this no…” she responded. “I mean I’ve been tied down and spanked but I’ve never been in a room like this.”  

“Excellent.”  Evil grinned.   “I love virgins.  They get so scared and cry so pretty.”   Alana gulped nervously feeling butterflies and anticipation.   She was scared and excited at the same time and she wondered whether she would enjoy the pain Evil was promising her.  

“Come here Seiya,” Evil said waiting while Sanada joined him standing in front of Alana.   “Watch and learn.”   Evil raised his hand slowly, enjoying the fear on Alana’s face as her eyes watched his hand move to her neck.  He could feel her swallow as his hand clasped around her throat and Evil could already feel his dick hardening as he tightened his grip.   When her hands grasped as his as her air supply cut off Evil dropped his hand and glared at her, disappointment clear on his face.  

“Touch again and your hands are going to be bound behind your back.  Do you understand?”  Evil snapped and Alana nodded.   It took all her willpower not to grab at his hand again as it closed around her airway.   She sucked deeply struggling to get breath as he methodically tightened his grip.   “Now you’re not trying to crush the larynx.”  Evil explained to Sanada who was watching raptly.  “You want to get your finger on the carotid artery, it cuts off the blood flow which will heighten the pleasure when you release. You want enough pressure where she can’t breathe, but light enough that you aren’t breaking anything.”   Alana coughed as he released her struggling to stay standing as the blood rushed back to her head.   She felt a tingling between her thighs and felt herself flush as she realized she had kind of enjoyed that.  

Next Sanada stepped in front of her, putting his hand around her neck as instructed by Evil who made sure his fingers were in the right place.   Once again she found her air supply cut off, and immediately raised her hands to pull at Sanada’s hand, forgetting Evil’s instructions.  

“I know I didn’t specify, but I figured you were smart enough to know those orders carried over to Sanada as well.” Evil said walking over to a chest of drawers as Sanada released her neck.   She watched with trepidation as Evil returned to them with a heavy looking pair of metal cuffs.   There was no give to them at all, solid steel cuffs that would go around her wrists with a metal pole attaching them.   Alana winced as Evil pulled her hands behind her back and snapped on cuffs.   She wriggled uncomfortably as they pulled back on her shoulders in a painful hold.  

“Again. A little tighter this time.” Evil directed Sanada who squeezed again adding more pressure to Alana’s throat.  Sanada kept his eyes on her, the panic in her eyes making his cock hard as he held her in the mercy of his hand.   He listened for Evil’s cue to let go, mentally counting in his head so he had a target to release on.  “Let go.” Evil said and Sanada slowly loosened his grip letting Alana gasp in air.  

“What do you think?” Evil asked.  

“I like it.   Probably like it better if I was fucking her.”  Sanada said.  

“That does make it so much better.” Evil agreed.  “Feeling them clench around your cock as they silently plead for you to let them breathe.”  He moved behind Alana to grab her forearm and eased her down onto her knees.   “Open your mouth Alana.  Suck Sanada for a minute while I get our next toy ready.”  

Sanada had his cock out and down her throat in a flash, burying himself deep in her throat enjoying the way it clenched around him as she was forced to let him control the pace with her arms bound behind her until Evil reappeared.  Reluctantly Sanada pulled from her mouth and followed Evil as he pulled Alana to her feet and to the other side of the room.   Her cuffs were removed, but she didn’t get to enjoy the freedom as she was dragged over to a black leather apparatus with straps hanging down around it.  

“This is called a bondage horse.” Evil told Sanada.  “You can put her on her back or on her stomach, either works.  I like the back personally.  It’s the most painful position for her. Then she gets strapped in and has to lay there and take everything you do to her.”      

“How do I put her on her back?”  Sanada asked earning a grin from Evil.   Sanada watched carefully as Evil lifted Alana up onto the horse making her kneel and then bending her over backwards leaving her legs bent underneath her.   Sanada strapped her down, hands over her head, strap around her waist and one around her thighs at Evil’s direction, leaving her spread open for use.  

“Do you want to hear her scream or do you want a gag?”  Evil asked, holding up a purple ball gag for Sanada’s consideration.  

“I want to see her with the gag.”  Sanada said. He hadn’t ever used a gag before.  Was curious to see what she would like with it in her mouth.   As soon as Evil had put it in Sanada could tell it was uncomfortable for Alana, stretching her lips wide as the ball held her mouth wide open.  He could already see spit leaking out the corner of her mouth as she stared back at him with wide scared eyes.   Sanada smirked as he ran his hand down her body, displayed so perfectly for him.   He pinched her nipple and smiled at the muffled moan of pain that came around the gag.  

“Now this is where we get to have fun Seiya.” Evil said.   “All kinds of pain can be inflicted while she’s like this.”  Evil paused to glance at his friend.  “I’m not gonna be offended if you don’t want to do all this.  I get my tastes aren’t for everyone. So do you want to go all out or do you just want to fuck her and be done?”  

Sanada considered this for a moment, glancing around the room and all the enticing toys that he was curious about.   He didn’t usually step out of his comfort zone, so just fucking her and calling it a night would be his usual M.O.   But he wanted to push his own boundaries and he couldn’t think of anyone better to do it with than Evil.  

“Show me what you’ve got.” Sanada said bringing the darkly sadistic smile back to Evil’s face.  

Evil lead Sanada over to his cabinet and opened the door, revealing row after row of punishment tools with Evil explaining the purpose of each type to Sanada and inviting him to try out whatever he wanted.   Deciding to start slowly Sanada grabbed a leather riding crop and smacked it against his palm, wincing at the sting.  He could only imagine how that would hurt on tender areas.   Evil nodded in approval of his choice and grabbed one of his favorites, a leather studded slapper.  

Strapped to the horse Alana had no choice but to endure as Evil thoroughly demonstrated to Sanada the right way to use both the cropper and the slapper to create the must sting, and where the most tender flesh was to strike before they moved on to other implements of punishment, Sanada enjoying giving all the different types a test drive. And when his fingers dipped between her thighs and withdrew coated with her juices Alana felt like she was going to die of embarrassment.   She didn’t know why she was enjoying what they were doing, but she definitely was.   Even when the slapper struck her clit after the initial sting had worn off she had been left throbbing.  Her mind was a tangle of emotions as she cried in a mixture of pain and pleasure.  She orgasmed almost instantaneously when Sanada drove his cock into her, his hand wrapping around her throat as he pounded into her.   As soon as he was done Evil had taken his place between her thighs and driven his own cock mercilessly into her as he used the slapper on her tits.  

Finally she was pulled from the horse and collapsed onto her knees, shaking from the combination of emotions charging through her.  Gag removed she gratefully she took the water offered to her by Evil and gulped it down, along with some cheese and crackers.   She heard Evil explaining to Sanada that she couldn’t get dehydrated and needed energy or she was going to be no good to them.  

After a few minutes break she was strapped to another table and run through the ringer time and again.  Over and over they moved her and tried out some new toys before moving her onto the next thing.  Alana had never felt more exhausted or sensitive.  She had lost count of how many orgasms they had ripped from her body, as well as leaving a cacophony of bruises and welts.   Her nipples and clit were sore and swollen from the clamps that had been attached to her.    Finally Evil declared they were ready for the grand finale and she was petrified to find out what that entailed.  

She was laid out on a flat stone stable with her limbs cuffed to each corner leaving her stretched and vulnerable to whatever it was they were doing.   When Evil brought Sanada over to the display of knives she started screaming. She had been positive those were just there for decoration, for intimidation.  Surely they couldn’t plan to use them on her?   Evil glared at her before saying something quietly to Sanada who glanced from the knives that had caught his attention and back to her, his eyes going to the gag that was resting by her head.  

“No.”  He said with a shake of his head.  “I want to hear her scream.  Hear her beg us to stop.”   Sanada flashed her a grin that gave her chills, almost matching the sadistic excitement of Evil’s.   Sanada had taken very well to Evil’s lessons, almost too well as far as Alana was concerned.   She had a feeling this wouldn’t be Sanada’s last visit to the dungeon.  

Selections in hand the two men approached the table, one on each side of her as Evil explained what he liked to do.

“I like the blood.”  Evil admitted quietly, keeping his gaze down. He wasn’t ashamed.  He liked what he liked.  But he would admit that he cared what Sanada thought about him and he hoped his confession wouldn’t ruin their friendship.  He understood it was a rather taboo subject.  

“Evil.”  Sanada said sharply making Evil look up at him.  “I don’t give a fuck what you’re into.   I’m the last person who should be judging anyone. Not my thing but I’ll happily make it and you can do whatever the fuck you want with it.”  

It felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders as he understood Sanada wasn’t going to berate him for having a fetish for blood.   He wasn’t close to many people, and he wasn’t sure how he would handle not having Sanada as his best friend anymore.   Pushing aside those sappy thoughts Evil set about explaining to Sanada exactly how to hold the knife and the right amount pressure to exert to cut without leaving scars.   Sanada listened carefully.  Asshole he may be but he wasn’t going to go around permanently disfiguring any girls just for sexual kicks.  

He would never admit it, but his hand was rather shaky on the first go and he was glad they had waited until they were both sobered up to commence this part of the evening.   He didn’t press quite hard enough on the first pass, but it made Alana gasp and she cried in pain as he sliced her delicate skin, prickles of red blossoming on her breast.   Sanada ran the point over her nipple, pressing it in and making her cry out again until he released the pressure.  He watched Evil with the knife, leaving little nicks on her body and licking the blood as it came to the surface.  

Curious he leaned down and ran his tongue over the blood he had exposed, nose wrinkling at the muddy rust taste and he shook his head in disgust as he stood up.  “Yeah, I’ll leave that to you my man.”  He told Evil walking over to chug some water to get the taste out of his mouth.  He returned to the table and perfected his technique with the knife finally figuring out the right pressure to exert if he wanted to cause pain but stop just short of breaking the skin and he took great delight in seeing how many screams he could rip from Alana before he and Evil fucked her one last time.  

The exhausted Alana was dressed and escorted out to the waiting limo and sent on her way.   Evil offered his guest room to Sanada who looked dead on his feet.  He gratefully accepted, not even wanting to think about making it to his home on the other side of the city.  He definitely needed a shower he thought nose scrunching as he saw dried blood on his skin and imagined all the bodily fluids that he had to have gotten on himself through the course of the night.   As soon as he was done, he collapsed on the guest bed and was out in minutes.  

Evil was meticulous about his dungeon, so he spent an extra hour cleaning all the surfaces they had used and the tools, making sure everything was disinfected and ready for the next time he was set to play.  Only then did he get his own shower and get to crash in his bed with the thought that maybe he and Sanada shouldn’t hang out as much because they were going to kill themselves at the rate they were going.  

[rorykillmore]

so this is a birthday present for @numinousbones  that also doubles as like. a general... congratulatory thing, i guess, because they’ve gotten through a lot this year and i wanted to do something nice for the end of their semester.

it also happened bc we haven’t rped together in ages now but we HAVE wistfully talked about a few ideas and dynamics and this crossover thing just kinda popped into my head. it will never rival the legendary transformers/grey’s anatomy masterpiece but ENJOY IT ANYWAY

storm...  i know life often seems like. A Lot right now for way too many reasons, but i have seen you persevere through so much and i will never stop admiring that about you. right now it might feel like there’s no end in sight but you’re so talented and so smart and so passionate and!! one day that’s all gonna come together and feel less like “persevering” and more like. living the life you deserve. okay this is getting way too sappy but i just felt like maybe you needed some sappy in your life, ANYWAYS. happy birthday!!! <3

Ivan Becke is dead before Villanelle can get to him.

It would actually be kind of cool, if the idea of competition didn’t piss her off so much. His throat has been cut, and the wound is neat and deliberate but a little too broad to be from the kitchen knife on the ground a few feet away.

Is it someone’s deliberate attempt at deception? It might work on a less trained eye, but she muses idly on why the other assassin would need to cover up their method if they were going to let him bleed out anyway.

She pouts down at the pale, lifeless face petulantly.  “Look at you. You’re a mess. See what happens when you don’t wait for me?”

As if she’d been planning on leaving him much better off.

Sighing, Villanelle begins to straighten up. Agitation and pent up energy cling to her like static electricity. She hates being denied a kill when she’s already built it up this much, it’s like --

“They told me to leave a mess. I’m usually much cleaner.”  A voice Villanelle doesn’t recognize echoes from -- not behind her, but in front of her, and she doesn’t know how she could have missed the figure in the shadows of the apartment, the pair of unnatural red eyes suddenly glowing back at her.  “Something about making an impression.”

Villanelle wonders whether this is one of those times - so frequent, in her line of work - when it’s better to shoot first and ask questions later. But what the mysterious assailant just said sinks in, and her curiosity gets the better of her. She straightens fully.  “Were you trying to show off for me?” she asks, mockingly flattered.

“...Hardly.”  The eerie gaze never leaves her.  “Or at least, strictly in the most professional sense.”

The figure ripples into full view, and Villanelle can’t him but start at it -- him? Openly. The other assassin is not a person, but a machine. A robot. He’s more cat-like than anything, although he’s much closer to the size of a car than a cat, and now Villanelle is certain there is no way she could have missed him unless he came equipped with some kind of... invisibility trick.  

There are a lot of questions she could ask, right in this moment. A normal person would have probably been sputtering with hundreds of them. But Villanelle knows she would not be the Twelve’s favorite if she was not so extraordinary with things like this: compartmentalizing shock, confusion, fear, no matter how unprecedented. 

So what she says instead is, “Wow. Wasn’t sending you kind of overkill?”

The robot-cat-assassin stares at her, unimpressed.  “Trust me. He wasn’t my usual variety of target.”

“Wait! Let me guess.” Villanelle hardly lets him finish.  “You’re here from the future. Your target was the father of some heroic asshole who’s going to lead a revolution, and you had to come all the way back here to stop him because just killing him as a baby would have been too easy, or something.”

She gets no response this time, but she swears something dubious flickers in the other assassin’s eyes.   “Seriously? You really need to be more genre-savvy.”

“Right,” the cat says. “You know, I don’t know how you can be half as effective as I’m told you are. You never seem to shut up.”

“I’m just trying to make conversation! Getting to know the people in your field is always so awkward.” She leans back on her heels, eyeing him speculatively, wondering what might be her best chance at taking him down if he proves to be a threat. She doesn’t have any weapons on her currently that seem as though they’d be remotely effective against a giant metal predator.  Perhaps she could try electrocuting him, but that would require some luck and some very quick thinking.  “Did the Twelve send you?  They’ve really been holding out on me.”

Some kind of bizarre, technological experiment on their part would be... well, maybe not the strangest thing Villanelle has ever heard, but up there. The other option is that someone else sent him, in which case her life is almost definitely in danger. She watches him carefully despite her casual outward demeanor.

“Not exactly.” The cat’s tail flicks slowly to one side, but he has yet to make a hostile move. “But it turns out that my superiors are interested in yours. Insofar as my superiors can be interested in yours.”

“Are they robots too?” Villanelle asks, taking his dig at the Twelve in stride.

He sniffs disdainfully.  “We’re not robots. We’re Cybertronians. Aliens, as you would call them.”

“Oh. Okay.” Villanelle guesses that isn’t really much weirder than assassin robots from the future. Or the secret, mechanical army the Twelve had suddenly been building in her head.  But a thought suddenly strikes her, and she leans in just a little, quirking a brow.  “Are you invading?”

The thought of the Twelve getting wrapped up in something like this is mildly hilarious. Villanelle can’t think of any other reason aliens would take such an immediate interest in them, though.

“It’s more complicated than that,” the cat says impatiently, which Villanelle is pretty sure is just bullshit. He probably just doesn’t want to admit that whatever devious scheme his superiors have conducted has been done a hundred times in science fiction movies before.  “We’re in the middle of a war, and we could use your organization’s information, and your resources. And no doubt you could use ours.”

There’s definite disdain dripping from his words, this time. Villanelle can’t help but grin a little.  “Oh, you hate this.”

“I’m not particularly fond of working with humans.”

“You’re so much better than us. So much older, so much more technologically advanced... right?”

“Something like that.”

“And yet... you and I do the same work.”

He eyes her coolly for a long moment.  “I do mine better.”

Villanelle laughs. She wanted to hate him - she really did - but he’s making it difficult for her.  “So why did you do this?” She gestures to the corpse on the floor.  “Why bother making an impression on an inferior species?”

Something rumbles in his throat, like a growl.  “Your handler seems to think that getting your attention is the only way to keep you manageable.”

Ah. That does sound like something Konstantin would say. But why --

“...And if we’re going to be working together, I had to think of something that wouldn’t necessitate immediately mauling you.”

Just like that, Villanelle’s smile drops. Working together?

“I work alone,” she states with simple finality.

“You think I like it any more than you do?” he snaps irritably. “Orders are orders. I hear you don’t like following them, but if you make this more difficult than it has to be - draw it out, make things complicated - I really will kill you.”

Inwardly, Villanelle seethes, though more of her anger is directed at Konstantin than her new coworker. He knows she doesn’t play well with others. What is he doing? What are the Twelve doing?

“It sounds like you know all about me already,” Villanelle notes with a clear voice and a smile that is now forced.  “What about you? Do I even get to know your name?”

He watches her for awhile without answering, and Villanelle suddenly starts to feel that he can see through her. She doesn’t like it.   “Ravage,” he says finally.

“Huh. Good name.”

“You may be obnoxious, but I know you’re also talented. For a human.” Ravage gives the half-compliment begrudgingly, seeming to relent a little, and Villanelle can’t help but feel suspicious of that too. “Don’t cause problems, and maybe we’ll even work halfway decently together. Then this will be over more quickly for both of us.”

Villanelle is already thinking of a million and one ways she can cause problems. But she sighs.  If nothing else, she’s curious about Ravage, the way he works, the way he kills. Maybe that will keep her entertained, for a little while.

At least until she gets her next chance to complain to Konstantin.

“Okay, partner!” she says at last, deliberately too cheery.  “What do you say we get out of here before this body starts to smell?”

“Technically, you all smell,” Ravage tells her. She shoots him an offended look.

“I do not smell. Badly, at least.”

“You’ve sprayed something chemical all over yourself. It almost drowns out the reek of your emotions.”

The idea that he can somehow smell her feelings brings Villanelle up short. 

Maybe she’ll start overdoing the perfume, from now on.

“Hey, you’re not going to do that invisibility thing again when we go outside, right?” she asks over her shoulder, heading for the fire escape and already filing away her prickling concerns.

“Yes, actually,” Ravage responds dryly. “Seeing as keeping a low profile would be ideal for both of us.”

“But then it’ll just look like I am talking to myself,” Villanelle complains. “I will look crazy!”

“I don’t think you need my help with that.”

Villanelle laughs again, because he hasn’t seen anything yet. Maybe while she’s trying to learn everything she can from Ravage, she’ll teach him a thing or two as well.

[galactic-aesir]

Road Trip! - Chapter Two

After getting hit with an anti-magic Shen Gong Wu that leaves Dojo unable to fly them back to China, the Dragons in training, plus Jack Spicer in tow, road trip across America towards the Bailey’s family ranch.

Surprising no one, it doesn’t go as planned.

Rating: Gen Tags: Multi-Chapter Fics, Road Trips, Temporary Truce, Dialogue Heavy, Dubious Placement in Canon Read it on AO3 Read Chapter One

“Ai, I’m done. Raimundo out.”

The young Brazilian then proceeded to fall dramatically to his knees and keel over into the soft green grass of a ditch. Besides him, the rest of his team got to their feet. Jack Spicer, meanwhile, was a bit less steady in his footing.

“Ughhhhh,” he said clutching his stomach. The world wouldn’t stop spinning. “That was worse than the undulating.”

Taking note of Jack’s green complexion, Clay’s hands flew up protectively to his hat. “Spicer, if you ruin my hat again I swear I’ll make you learn the meaning of putting a dog's ear through a bramble bush.

Jack flapped his hand at Clay dismissively as the worst of the vertigo faded away. He picked himself up and looked at the mess around them. Raimundo’s tornado had picked up all kinds of debris along the way. A glint caught his eye and he noticed something very familiar near his feet.

“Aw, JB-001, no,” he said frowning sadly at the maggled robot.

“Raimundo,” Omi said, rubbing at his head gingerly. “While I am impressed at the mastery of your element, could you have perhaps left Jack’s robots in the clearing?”

“Not to mention the rocks and trees. I sure took a pounding there, Rai.”

“Is that why my robots are mincemeat?”

“Dude, it’s the wind,” Raimundo mumbled as an answer.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Kimiko added, running her hand through her tangled hair. “Ugh, it’s going to take me forever to fix this.”

“How about we fix our transportation problems out first?” Dojo piped up. Unlike the others, the dragon felt right as rain. He'd had his fair share of bumpy rides during his long life and a little Apprentice level tornado was nothing.

“Good idea, Dojo!”

“Alright,” said Raimundo finally picking himself up. “Where do we start?”

“I reckon that-a way,” the texan said, pointing to a sign a little bit aways. Durnbum, 3 miles.

They had only been walking for about fifthteen minutes and Kimiko already couldn’t stand it. She tried to concentrate on untangling her hair with the Tangle Web Comb but Jack’s constant whining was fraying her nerves.

“Jack, stop complaining.”

“I wouldn’t complain so much if you would just help me out!” Jack said hunched over with a bag tossed over his shoulders. He readjusted it to make a point and the bag clanged as the mangled remains of his robots banged against each other.

“They’re your robots, dude. Why would we help you out? They’re usually trying to kill us!” said Raimundo.

“Why are you even carrying ‘em around?” added Clay.

“They might be useful!”

Omi poked at the bag of scrap skeptically. “I am not sure how they will be of help in their current state.”

“Huh,” said Dojo before Jack could respond, catching the monks’ attention.

“Didja see somethin’, Dojo?” Clay asked, adjusting his hat carefully to not dislodge the tiny dragon who had decided to ride there. Dojo pointed a claw ahead of them and Clay brought his hand up to shield his eyes from the sun as he squinted down the gravel road.

“Is a car coming?” Kimiko perked up. They hadn’t seen anyone on the roads yet.

“Can you see the town?” Raimundo asked.

“Well, a ‘lil bit,” the cowboy said. “But more importantly, it looks like Jack’s robots might be of use after all.”

“Huh?” the four others said.

Dojo, from his vantage point on Clay’s hat, looked down at Jack. “I hope you aren’t attached to any of your robots there, pal.”

Jack clutched at his bag protectively.

“Come on, let’s keep moving.”

The cigarette lit up with bright embers as the man took in a drag. He exhaled, sending a puff of smoke whirling in the stingy stale air of the office. “Say that again.”

Kimiko smiled sweetly despite the smell and smoke. “We’re looking for a car.”

The man guffawed. “Here? You lot in some kind of trouble?”

“Just a bit of a pinch. Nothing that would concern you.”

“Asked and answered,” said the old man. Keatt, the titular owner of B. H. Keatt’s U-Pull Parts and Services looked in his late fifties, wearing grease stained coveralls and a dirty wife beater. He took another drag from his cigarette and knocked the ashes into an old coffee can. He smiled. “Well, ya see kiddos, I ain’t got much in this here lot. Depends on how much you got on you. Cars ain’t cheap.”

Raimundo, who had grown up on the bad side of Rio, was no chump. “If you don’t have a car, we can go somewhere else dude.”

The old man laughed. “Heh, you know I'll be honest here kid, I ain’t the type to stick my neck out for strangers. But you stick me as a business type. I like that. And for that, I'll give you a bargain. What do you say?”

“I say show me the goods and we’ll make a deal, Keatt.”

The man smiled like a snake and gestured off to the side of the building. “Of course, Raimundo, is it? Let’s walk, I think I might have something that interests you over here.”

Keatt stamped his cigarette out in the coffee can and made his way out of the dingy office towards a few parked cars that looked relatively whole. The rest of the monks turned to Raimundo for a quick group huddle.

“Raimundo, I fear this man may not be the trustworthy type.”

“No kiddin’, Omi. That fella’s slicker than a boiled onion.”

“How much can we even afford to spend on this car?” Kimiko asked. “We’ve only got six hundred dollars.”

“You know,” Jack piped up, “I never actually said I’d help.”

The monks all turned to glare at him.

“Alright, alright, fine! You can have my money.”

“Guys, guys,” Raimundo said. “I’ve got this. He’s nothing compared to what we have in Rio. Leave the negotiating to me.”

With that he winked at them and jogged up to Keatt. From afar, the rest of the monks could see Raimundo put on his smooth talking smile as he slid up to Keatt to negotiate the deal.

“Well,” Kimiko said once they were out of earshot. “We’re doomed.”

“Four hundred dollars,” Jack said reluctantly as he put the bills in Keatt’s waiting hands.

The old man licked his fingers and leafed through the crisp bills, counting them one by one. Raimundo leaned back on a rusted pile of metal that could technically be considered a car if you squinted at it. The teen smugly patted the side of it like a job well done.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“I’ll leave my judgements unsaid for the current moment.” Kimiko’s voice was deadpan.

Keatt rattled a laughed as he finished counting the bills. “Four hundred dollars for an original 1980 Chevy Citation X11,” he said. “It’s all yours. Pleasure doing business with you.”

Jack stomped over to the car, if it could be called that. It was ugly and old and rusted but if it could get them out of this sorry excuse for a town it would be worth it. Still, it didn’t stop him from sneering at it as he fumbled about the hood, trying to find the release.

“Alright, let’s see what my hard earned money bought.”

“It’s not hard earned ya spoiled varmint!”

Jack stuck his tongue out at Clay and lifted the hood.

He blinked.

And then blinked again. Just in case he was seeing wrong. Nope. He spun towards Raimundo, face full of outrage.

“You bought us a car with no engine?!” he yelled.

“What?!”

The monks turned to Raimundo who, in turn, turned to Keatt. The old man smiled smugly at the lot of them and calmly folded the bill's into his shirt pocket.

“You wanted a car,” he said. “Here’s a car. You never said anything about an engine!”

“You ripped us off!”

“Why you no-good two-timing, sunofa-”

Keatt's laugh interrupted Clay.

“What're you going to do? Fight me?”

The monks looked like they very much wanted to.

“The way I see it,” Keatt said, snickering at them. “You kids are in some kind of trouble. Runaways, gangs, I don’t know and I don’t care. But the cops are probably looking for you. Might even be a reward for findin’ ya. So listen here. Either you give me the rest of your money and I find it in my heart to fix up that car, or you fight me and I call the cops. Then we’ll see in exactly what kind of trouble you kids got yourselves into.”

The monks stood down and looked at each other. As much as they could easily trounce the man, he had a point. They couldn’t go about and buy a car legitimately without answering some uncomfortable questions on why they needed one in the first place. Jack, on his end, sneered at the old man arms crossed.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” he said. “How ‘bout this: you get my scrap and I get to use your garage to fix the car.”

“You think you can fix it yourself boy?”

“I know I can,” Jack said cracking his knuckles and snapping his goggles into place with a flourish. He grinned. “Meet Jack Spicer, evil genius.”

Keatt looked about as impressed as the rest of the monks.

“Whatever, sure,” he said, shrugging. “And when you can’t then I’ll get your money anyways.”

He fished the keys out of his coveralls’ pockets and tossed it to Jack. “Good luck.”

[leviloviatar]

I read a comment on a gendrya post that said Arya would never want a Baratheon, she is meant to be with Jaqen like Lyanna with Rhaegar and that Arya and Lyanna both prefer intellectuals?? I mean Jaqen is too old for Arya it‘s just disgusting and just because Gendry is uneducated doesn‘t mean he‘s stupid? He may not know how to read and write (which isn‘t his fault) but he has street smarts and he has a good understanding of the society they live in which is impressive for a 14/15 year old boy

I feel so terrible for you my poor anon that you even had to read such garbage so I’m sending you all my love and support. Technically, this anti’s argument is so stupid that I don’t even need to address it - BUT I WILL. At length.

The point being argued here is erroneous on several counts: First, it equates Jaqen with Rhaegar which makes no sense and I would love for someone, anyone, to explain to me in what ways they are the same? Second, it assumes that Gendry is not “intellectual” while simultaneously assuming that Jaqen H’ghar is. (Bet they didn’t have any textual support for that). Third, it assumes that there are any romantic feelings or potential for them whatsoever between Arya and Jaqen H’ghar, while blatantly ignoring the abundance of romantic connotations between Arya and Gendry, and then in an incredible leap of logic that literally defies explanation, equates that glaring oversight to Arya’s “preference” being like Lyanna’s. 

May I just say, at the outset, what the actual fuck?

Moving on. My best guess it that the assumption here is “Arya and Lyanna look alike, and Gendry and Robert look alike, and Lyanna didn’t choose Robert, so Arya won’t choose Gendry.” Right, because GRRM never likes to subvert tropes, or prophecies, or expectations, or anything like that. But then they took their already relatively baseless assumptions even further by randomly inserting a character they presumably like (for whatever reason) and giving him all kinds of traits that we have no reason to believe he has. Jaqen is an intellectual! Really? Says who? Not GRRM. He’s just like Rhaegar! Really, how so? Please in what ways does his character resemble Rhaegar?

Now let’s blow some holes in this with our CANON:

1. Gendry is very intelligent. I’ve said this before. He might not be formally educated in the same manner as nobility, obviously due to his upbringing and social class, but canonically Gendry is smart, quick thinking, and analytical.

Some examples of Gendry’s analysis and quick-thinking coming in handy:

“You know anything ‘bout boat-building, dyer’s boy?” Lommy looked blank.“A raft,” suggested Gendry. “Anyone can build a raft, and long poles for pushing.”Yoren looked thoughtful. “Lake’s too deep to pole across, but if we stayed to the shallows near shore … it’d mean leaving the wagons. Might be that’s best. I’ll sleep on it.”

-ACOK, Arya IV

It was Gendry who thought of the lord’s towerhouse and the three that Yoren had sent to hold it. 

-ACOK, Arya V

Gendry,“ she called, her voice low and urgent. “They have a boat. We could sail the rest of the way up to Riverrun. It would be faster than riding, I think.”He looked dubious. “Did you ever sail a boat?”“Then there’s oars to row.”“Against the current?” Gendry frowned. “Wouldn’t that be slow? And what if the boat tips over and we fall into the water?

-ASOS, Arya II

And how about the time he covered Arya’s ass with that quick-thinking:

“Never mind about Ser Lyonel.” He drew her aside by the arm. “Last night Hot Pie asked me if I heard you yell Winterfell back at the holdfast, when we were all fighting on the wall.”“I never did!”“Yes you did. I heard you too.”“Everyone was yelling stuff,” Arya said defensively. “Hot Pie yelled hot pie. He must have yelled it a hundred times.”“It’s what you yelled that matters. I told Hot Pie he should clean the wax out of his ears, that all you yelled was Go to hell! If he asks you, you better say the same.”“I will,” she said, even though she thought go to hell was a stupid thing to yell.

-ACOK, Arya VIII

Just look at this boy banter with Arya never missing a beat:

Arya looked at Gendry. “If he falls off, who do you think will find him first, the wolves or the Mummers?”“The wolves,” said Gendry. “Better noses.”

-ASOS, Arya I

Just look at how in sync they are:

“NO!“ Arya and Gendry both said, at the exact same instant. Hot Pie quailed a little. Arya gave Gendry a sideways look. He said it with me, like Jon used to do, back in Winterfell.

-ASOS, Arya I

Gendry looked as uncertain as she felt.

-ASOS, Arya II

He’s even got problem-solving skills:

“You have a knife,” Gendry suggested. “If your hair annoys you so much, shave your bloody head.”

-ASOS, Arya VIII

So yeah, we have way more canon evidence of Gendry’s intelligence than we do of Jaqen’s. 

Though to be fair, it appears that Gendry has an ugly thinking face:

“Quiet, both of you, I need to think what to do.” He always looked pained when he tried to think, like it hurt him something fierce.

-ACOK, Arya V

(Which I can relate to myself, as whenever I am deep in thought I’m told I look like a murderous bitch)

Now, here is what we know about Jaqen H’ghar from the text:

He’s a Faceless Man.

That’s it. That’s literally it. How does being a faceless man equate to being an intellectual? It doesn’t. We have no reason to assume that about him. (Its possible he might not even be a “him” for all we know, the rules are unclear about whether the faceless men are capable of using a glamour to change gender). We can’t extrapolate any of his words or actions as indications of his nature, since anything and everything he says and does are part of the character he is playing at the time and would be completely different were he wearing a different face.

2. Canon evidence that Jaqen H’ghar is an “intellectual”:

NONE.

3. Canon evidence suggesting Arya has any romantic feelings toward Jaqen H’ghar:

NONE. 

4. Canon evidence of Arya’s actual feelings regarding Jaqen H’ghar:

Jaqen made me brave again. He made me a ghost instead of a mouse.

-ACOK, Arya IX

It was Jaqen who had given her the iron coin. He hadn’t truly been her friend, the way that Syrio had, but what good had friends ever done her?

-AFFC, Arya I

Compare that to Gendry “the only true friend I have” Waters. Oh wait, there is no comparison.

Jaqen H’ghar has one function within Arya’s narrative. One. He is her introduction to the Faceless Men. He gives her three deaths, thus helping her and her friends escape Harrenhal, and he gives her the coin, and a glimpse of the true power that the faceless men possess:

Jaqen passed a hand down his face from forehead to chin, and where it went he changed. His cheeks grew fuller, his eyes closer; his nose hooked, a scar appeared on his right cheek where no scar had been before. And when he shook his head, his long straight hair, half red and half white, dissolved away to reveal a cap of tight black curls.Arya’s mouth hung open. 

“Who are you?” she whispered, too astonished to be afraid. “How did you do that? Was it hard?”

-ACOK, Arya IX

Mission accomplished. Arya is intrigued. She is interested. She has a list of people she hates and damn it sure would be handy if she could learn that trick. Thanks for the mysterious coin and secret password, now move along. After this, Jaqen does not reappear in her arc. Let me say that again for the shownlies. Jaqen H’ghar does not interact with Arya at all after this. He is not the priest she meets at the house of Black and White. She has no further contact with him. In fact, to the best of our knowledge, the Faceless Man that was Jaqen is now in the Citadel (as Pate) for reasons we are all still theorizing about.

So, I believe what that anti meant to say is that they prefer Jaqen H’ghar for whatever reason - most likely because they have made several leaping assumptions about his character based on little to no textual evidence and/or they just like the guy from the show.

But you and I both know it will never happen in the books. Not even close. Not even in the realm of possibility. Sorry not sorry.

[dangmanronpaimagines]

Hajime, Hoshi, Mukuro, Mikan, ibuki, kiibo with shsl miracle s/o that lively and happy-go-lucky? Like good luck or miracles happen to them and people around them?

An Ultimate Miracle sounds interesting! I could see how itcan come with a lot of flaws and unique traits for a character with thatability. It’s almost like having Ultimate Luck, in a sense. Anyways, it’sobviously not my original idea so I didn’t really get crazy with this. I justwanted to say it’s an interesting idea!

Aaaalso, I know I’ve already done this before, but I had toleave out Mukuro. Technically she’s a part of the first game, but not much ofher personality is explained. So, I can’t write about her. I should really getcrackin’ on watching the anime.

Hajime Hinata

Hajime’s the type of guy that stays grounded in reality, soat first, he’s pretty unsure about your talent. Not that he thinks you’relying, but… your talent involves good luck and miracles? Really? He takes yourword for it, but it’s pretty obvious that he doesn’t take it seriously until hesees some extreme cases of it.

For example, you and Hajime are walking down the street. You’reholding hands, enjoying the day happily as you two usually do when all of asudden, a car on the road suddenly swerves erratically until it finally flipsover and ends up upside down on the road!! Whoa! That’s a huge tragedy, right? Wrong. The driver ends up okay, no oneelse was injured, and best of all, a rich businessman saw the whole incident andoffered to replace the man’s car free of charge. What a lovely world we livein.

“Alright, S/O… maybe miracles do happen around you…” He’s stilla little skeptical, but the more he spends time around you, the more herealizes it’s true. He’ll come to terms with it eventually.

The other part of his S/O’s talent, however, is what headores the most. It’s your personality! Such a sweet and kind S/O who alwayslooks on the bright side makes his heart soar and his mind clear up. Honestly,he needs more of that in his life since he can be too serious sometimes.  

Ryoma Hoshi

He believes you from the get-go, more or less. You’reofficially an ultimate, right? Who’s he to say that you aren’t? However, beforeyou two became a thing, he was adamant on making sure that you weren’t aroundhim. He really didn’t want someone sopositive being around a guy that was so negative, like him. But jeez were you persistent. How you twoeventually ended up together is a miracle in itself, but that’s just the way itworked. He never stood a chance against you if being with him is what youreally wanted.

He’s talked with you about your ultimate talent a number of times.He says it so casually, but his genuine opinion on it makes you blush everytime. “I don’t think your talent makes it so you attract the miracles to othersand yourself. I think you’re just the personification of a miracle. You just beingaround someone makes them feel better.” He’s just being honest. It makes himembarrassed seeing you so embarrassed… It’s not like what he said was that romantic, c’mon S/O…

He won’t really admit it, but he feels like when you’re notaround him, something will go wrong. Nothing bad ever happens, but you’vebecome such a ray of sunshine that without you there it’s like it startspouring rain.

Mikan Tsumiki

Oh, she’s so happy to have such a kind-hearted S/O! Ofcourse, when she first met you, she was pretty overwhelmed. Why were you beingso kind to her? D-Did you want something from her…? Did you want her money? Didyou want her to act like a pig? Strip? What?

She would’ve started apologizing as soon she saw the revoltedexpression on your face, but… there was only a bright smile. Then a cheerylaugh, followed by “No! I want to talk with you. I like your hair! You looksuper cute, too.” From that moment forward, the Ultimate Miracle became veryimportant to the Ultimate Nurse. There would still be moments where Mikan’sinsecurities come into the mix, but they appeared less often than they would ifMikan would hang out with anyone else from her class. It was like you had thepower to bring out the good in Mikan! After years of traumatic experiences,Mikan truly felt like she was experiencing a miracle.

Also, it feels like everything goes a lot better after Mikanstarts befriending and eventually dating you. Unfortunately, since Mikan receivessuch highs of happiness when around you, she’s almost afraid of separating formore than a few moments at a time. Because of this, she can become reallyclingy and even a bit obsessive at times. This is the only negative side toher, but luckily with an Ultimate Miracle, only a good future is on the horizonfor this couple.

Ibuki Mioda

KE-HAHAHAH! HOW CUTE!!! Ibuki thinks you’re super cute! Such ahappy person, such a charmer! She honestly enjoys having you around, as youtruly are a miracle. She would be the one most likely to not make such a hugedeal out of her S/O’s miraculous talent, only using it to tease you every sooften. Other than that, she doesn’t really think that your personality shouldbe tied to your ability! You’re a person before you’re an ultimate!!

Ibuki likes having you around often, as you’re usually theonly ones that can really keep up with her upbeat personality. You… might not be as energetic, but even without yourabilities, you can certainly see why Ibuki acts with such passion. That’s whatIbuki looks for in a partner, anyways! She wants someone who can trust her andyou do just that. Wow, what a MIRACLE her S/O is. (*・∀-)☆

Whenever Ibuki talks about herfuture, she sometimes tries to coax you into mentioning yours. Yeah, you’re amiracle, but how will you use it? What will you do? “S/O can always travel withme on world tours when Ibuki becomes ultra famous!” “There’s nothing I’d ratherdo! I would love to spend the rest of my life with you as you fulfil yourdreams.” ZING, ONE-HIT KO!! You’re akeeper.

Kiibo

He’s a little confused on how harnessing the power of a ‘miracle’can really be made into a talent. A miracle is a ‘surprising event that cannotbe explained by natural or scientific laws’… Does that mean that you are asupernatural phenomenon? He’d like to stick around and learn more about you, ifthat’s alright.

That’s how you both start learning about each in the firstplace. After hanging out with you many, many times (sometimes under the guise of wanting to learn about you, andtotally not because he just wants toexperience this joy inside of him whenever you are near) you two eventuallywind up together. While there are many aspects of your talent that are stilldubious to him, he enjoys the affects that it gives on your personality.Honestly, having such a lively S/O really shows him the positive aspects ofhuman-kind. His perspective on humanity might become a little warped due to theamount of good things that happen to everyone around you on a daily basis, butfor the most part it’s a great thing. He also inherits some of your attitudeand becomes a little more brighter than he would’ve been without you. His S/Ois a definite positive influence.

By some sort ofmiracle, Kiibo becomes a real boy! Just kidding. He does feel like he’s becomingmore and more human the more time he spends with you, but that’s just becausehe loves you, not because of your talent.

[jinjojess]

Could you elaborate on what you dislike about Death Note? If you feel like doing it, of course! I always enjoy your unpopular opinions so I would like to hear more about this. I personally liked many aspects of it, but I can also see many flaws, and the second part of the story is way less fun. Also: "Remember how I can't stand characters transparently designed to appeal to a certain kind of fan" PLEASE GO ON. I need a serious critique of the characters!

Oof, I don’t know if I have that in me, but here’s a semi-short version.

Death Note has a lot of objective stumbles, but honestly the thing about it is that it’s very much Not For Me and that’s where I have the most issues.

Spoilers for the entire series, just in case.

Edit: This got really fucking long, I’m so sorry mobile users…

Note: This will be manga-based since I read the entire manga, but have only seen a few of the anime episodes.

So I was very on board with the series in the early chapters of the manga, because I liked how it was exploring the way that Light starts off as this really eager do-gooder who gets corrupted by power. In the early chapters he looks younger and adorable, and you can see a physical change in the way he carries and presents himself as he becomes more Kira than Light. Loved the idea of presenting a protagonist and then turning him into the villain and testing the reader to see if they would still side with him or not. That was cool.

I probably would have enjoyed his rivalry with L more if I didn’t find L so personally obnoxious. A lot of people like him (to the point where I feel like I am the sole dissenter) and I don’t think he’s necessarily the worst character, but just like…I dunno. Something about him and the way he’s treated in the series just feels so…I don’t know how to put this…wish fulfillment-y? Like he’s this dude who really shouldn’t be attractive because he’s gaunt and pale and clearly doesn’t take care of himself at all, plus he’s got all these nervous tics that would probably be at best politely tolerated while everyone talks about how awkward he is behind his back but like…I don’t remember that ever happening really.

Like if the police force were like “Jesus, dude, just sit like a normal human being for once,” I’d have found him more believable as an actual character instead of this guy conspicuously being weird to show off how “different” and “special” he is. Plus he’s also athletic, despite not ever being shown practicing or going to the gym or anything–he’s just super good at martial arts and a tennis champ, guys. Like sorry, but for those of us in the real world, we have to adhere to social codes and actually work for that kind of shit, and while some people find comfort in this sort of idealized escapism, it’s always just pissed me off from a personal standpoint.

Basically L feels like he was created to appeal to socially awkward fangirls who could squee over him and be like “he’s weird and socially awkward just like me! but everyone would be jealous of me if he was my boyfriend because unlike me everyone loves him!” Which in and of itself is not inherently Bad or anything, but it gives me a sense of unbearable second-hand embarrassment so I just cannot deal with that.

Let me be clear here: those kinds of fangirls completely deserve to have media aimed at them, and Death Note fills that niche pretty well. Again, this complaint is from a place of personal preference, and is just to get you to understand why Death Note turned out to not really be my cup of tea.

(Plus also where is the storyline where L gains weight or gets type 2 diabetes from surviving on sweets? Oh, it’s because his brain burns too many calories. Fuck that guy.)

Misa is similar in that she’s basically Yamato Nadeshiko: Goth Edition and that just ain’t my thing. Like don’t get me wrong–I love me some tragically loyal people, but I usually prefer that they also be capable in some other way (Pekoyama can swordfight like a badass, Sakakura is a world-class boxer, Mukuro is…well, Mukuro, etc.). MisaMisa is kind of a fuck up. Plus iirc she’s an idol and sorry, if you are not part of Maizono’s posse I have zero time for you.

Anyway, the fact that the reader is supposed to feel less sympathy for Light because of his treatment of Misa is interesting, but it’s kind of clouded by the fact that Misa is so annoying to me personally that I just wanted her to fucking die already and get out of the narrative. Rem, you are too good for this shit.

I did find the police force itself pretty charming, though. I was rooting for them for most of the story.

Ryuk was great too. A nice provider of very needed levity, and probably the most consistently good point of the series, at least until the very end which I’ll get into in a second.

Anyway, the more technical issues I have with Death Note are with its pointless meandering. There’s that famous tennis scene where it’s supposed to be really exciting because Light and L are trying to figure each other’s psychology out, but the things they’re thinking aren’t at all realistic. Like trying to win a tennis match proves you’re competitive ergo you must be Kira? What? It’s overthinking very mundane things that would have too many variables to ever be conclusive proof of anything, and it turns out to be pointless since they both reach that conclusion at the end of the game anyway.

So yeah, my biggest issue with Death Note was that it wasted so much of my time. It feels a little like the V3 trials, where you’d be purposefully led down this boring, clearly incorrect route so that the reader could be “surprised” when it turned out that something could be Occam’s Razor’d. There are entire volumes where nothing happens. And I don’t mean like, nothing physically happens, but the characters are having intense debates or whatever. I remember reading volumes where only two real conversations were had, and the rest of the time was everyone imagining and mentally preparing for said conversations.

Maybe my memory of the series is too patchy, since I read the manga over a decade ago in 2005, but I remember a LOT of padding.

Something I did think was handled well was how Light defeats L. That was pretty great because at heart I do love super smart villains with stupidly complicated plans, and that one was pretty great, especially since I figured that L wouldn’t be going anywhere.

However, the series should have ended here. It should have ended with Kira winning out over L, but the law being closer to figuring out who Kira is, leaving the reader in a state of uncertainty about the future of this world and Light as a character.

Would that have wrapped up all the loose ends? No. But it would be way better than what we got in the second half of the series, I think most people would agree.

So let’s talk for a second about Near and Mello.

To touch again on the “this was clearly for a certain kind of fan” subject, how hard do you think the publishers shit themselves when they realized that L was going to die but the series wasn’t over? L was and still is by far the most popular character from the series, and the fangirls were probably not going to be pleased that their husbando got ejected from the narrative.

So what do we do?

Replace him with more of the same!

While L was annoyingly teetering on Gary Studom, Near is basically that just with an added dose of “precocious child” which doesn’t really help the situation. I hesitate to call him Shouta L, even if that’s how it feels sometimes, but I just felt like Near was way too similar to L to be his own character. He felt more like L was reborn as a kid for the Death Note Babies spin-off.

Mello was a lot more interesting, with the inferiority complex and his tendency to, you know, actually do things. The only part of the latter half of the series I remember liking was when Mello kidnapped Light’s sister and there was this tiny glimmer of humanity left in him where he didn’t want her to die. However this was always offset for me by the fact that he was running around with an exposed midriff because yeah we need to have fanservice somewhere man. (Again, not inherently Bad and fangirls deserve their fanservice too, but like…not my thing, at all.) It just felt very…calculated, if that makes sense.

What would have been way more interesting to me would be Light finding out about these orphans being groomed to take over for L and there being some kind of commentary on how the side of “good” is using these really dubious and unethical methods to catch Kira, bringing up the question of whether or not they’re actually any better. Like let’s talk about that.

Okay so. The only thing left to talk about is the ending. And holy shit, that fucking ending.

I was still trying to be on board with Death Note even in the second half where I had very little desire to finish it but felt like I’d already invested the time and money so I might as well. I was trying so damn hard, and I was still kind of enjoying the ridiculous lengths Kira was going to get a one-up on his pursuers, with the fake out girlfriends and the cult, and the fucking pieces of Death Note pages inside the secret compartment of his watch and shit…it was so dumb but in like a fun way.

And to be clear, I’m fine with Light losing in the end, and being undone by his own hubris.

But to only have it happen because Ryuk decides to conveniently help the police? Like, that’s dumb. The entire thing hinges on Ryuk deciding at that very moment to fuck Light over–sure, whatever, he’s not on a side, sure. I don’t expect him to actually pull a Rem, but he must have fucking known that the lackey’s book was fake (who, by the way, should have planned to do away with everyone one at a time, using the power to determine how people die to make it look like an accident, and then he would have noticed that his notebook wasn’t a real one). At least hint toward Ryuk getting fed up, or bored, or something so that this doesn’t seem so frustratingly convenient.

Though Ohba apparently once said that L was the smartest character because “the plot needs him to be” so there you go. That’s his approach. Plot contrivances are the order of the day.

So yeah, anyway.

That’s why I’m not that fond of Death Note. Part of it is because of personal biases against certain kinds of characters that are not appealing to me, and part of it is because the entire story feels like it’s taking itself too seriously and is trying to be more clever than it is. As a more compact narrative I think it would probably get a pass, but the fact that it’s so bloated and sprawling really makes it hard for me to consider it objectively good.

…Turns out I did have it in me.