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pale-silver-comb · 4 years

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So I know absolutely nothing about Leverage except what I've been seeing you post lately and I have to admit you're making it look tempting to watch! Can I ask what are some of your favorite things about the show/reasons you would suggest people watch it? And is there really a poly relationship that is canon?

Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. I am going to do my best not to just “asdfghkjl” at you and answer coherently.

In a nutshell, Leverage is about 5 people. 4 are criminals (Parker, Hardison, Eliot and Sophie) with different and unique skill-sets and 1 is an ex-insurance investigator (Nate) who, at one point or another in his career, has tracked down (or at least attempted to) the other 4. The whole show is essentially: man reluctantly reforms 4 criminals to use their criminal powers for good and 4 criminals move into man’s life and stubbornly refuse to leave because, goddammit, now they have morals.

I’ve got a lot of favourite things about the show but the main ones are as follows:

1. Found family. And I’m not talking about loners who come together to fight crime and happen to co-exist to the point where they realise they happen to have found themselves a family. I mean, Nate and Sophie are the Drunk Uncle and Wine Aunt who somehow become Mom and Dad to 3 beautiful criminal children. Mom and Dad love their criminal babies and the kids love them (as well as each other, but we’ll come to that in a moment). You get amazing family moments such as: Mom and Dad packing the kids lunch before sending them out to kick corporate greed’s ass; Mom and Dad giving the kids ridiculously expensive and personal Christmas presents causing their most Grumpy Kid to go very very quiet and soft as he runs off to gleefully play with his new murder toy; the kids interrupting Mom and Dad’s big Movie Style Kiss to ask if they can please keep their new underground layer and huffing and puffing when Dad tells them no.

2. Found family: the OT3 edition. To answer your question, the OT3 is indeed canon, confirmed by the creator. Now, usually, “confirmed by the creator” infuriates me because most of the time it’s a way for a creator to be seen as “progressive” without doing anything to actually be progressive. That isn’t the case here. The OT3 are built up carefully and while it is obvious the creators didn’t originally intend for all 3 of them to become a relationship in the romantic sense, by mid-season 5 we are given a very clear picture of where Parker, Hardison and Eliot are heading in their relationship. There aren’t any kisses at the end to signal this but there are solid marriage vows in not only one but two episodes. (And by marriage vows I mean literal equivalents of marriage vows: “for better or worse” and “’til death do us part”. I’m not even exaggerating). The OT3 also doesn’t need explicit romantic narratives to convey how much they love each other. Their love is laced through the whole show, from the way they teach each other things to the way they respond to each other and work as a unit. The way they fiercely protect and admire each other. Like someone once said, if you need characters to kiss or say I love you to let the audience know they love each other, you are writing them wrong.

Aside from that, each of the parings in the OT3 are just. Gah. They are so well done, with friendship being the solid basis for them all. The creators never expect the audience to assume anything about them or fill in the gaps. They give us their relationships on screen and reference many things off-screen to show us how these relationships continue to build in between episodes.

Hardison and Parker are a canon couple and date in the show: it’s approached slowly and they are so goddamned sweet. They are basically every fluffy slow-burn trope with a healthy dash of mutual pining in the mix. They are basically that quote “love is patient, love is kind”. (I would like to add their romance never becomes the focus of the show or overrides the importance of any other relationship they have with the other characters, especially Eliot.)

Hardison and Eliot are the Old Married Couple and from day one are already bickering and looking at each other/making comments that are found in every UST fic ever (not to mention Hardison has a very good knack for making Eliot grin like a little kid, when usually he’s basically an Angry Little Chef Man). They argue, they play, and love each other plain as day.

Parker and Eliot are more subtle but every bit as wonderful. They have an unspoken connection and understand each other on a level no-one else can. Parker and Eliot are not good with giving themselves over to affection for different reasons (and Hardison plays a central role in helping them realise it’s okay to want it and have it- that boy has endless patience) but there is something so beautiful in the way the two of them come together on their own and develop their own special bond that works for them. Parker and Eliot are that trope where the characters don’t need to speak to understand each other perfectly. They just do. Their love language is a lot of the time non-verbal but speaks volumes. (Parker also likes to annoy the hell out of Eliot and Eliot....just.....lets...her. Because he’s soft. The softest, grumpiest boy.)

I could go into so much depth for each pairing and their dynamics as a 3 but that's for another post.

3. Subverting stereotypes. There is the occasional hiccup in the show regarding stereotypes but ultimately, Leverage gets an A+ when it comes to writing characters and making them 3 dimensional people who are not defined by certain characteristics or events. Nate could so easily fall into the White Man Pain trope where he uses the trauma of losing his kid as a reason as to why he is entitled to act like a dick. Nate is a dick but he doesn’t use his pain to excuse it and I appreciate that. Hardison is a black man who is soft and nurturing. Easily the most empathetic and patient of the group. He’s nerdy, an actual genius, and has the biggest heart of all the characters. Nate is maybe the glue but Hardison is definitely the heart. Media’s usual aggressive, amongst other, racist stereotypes can fuck right off. Parker is canonically autistic (I am sure this was confirmed by one of the creators) and she is not defined by it. It’s not written as some kind of singular personality trait. It’s part of what makes up Parker but it’s only one facet of who she is and not once is her actions, thoughts or feelings treated like a joke. Sometimes people don’t understand why she does and says the things she does but it’s met with patience and fondness over the course of the show. Equally, it’s not met with over-caution. Parker is just Parker. No-one tries to change her. The other nice thing is Hardison, who always makes sure Parker knows she’s amazing because of who she is and not in spite of it. Finally, Sophie is in her 40s. She’s not treated like she’s past her prime. Ever. She’s sexy, smart and never is she pitted against or compared to Parker (who is younger) for anything. Sophie is amazing and there’s never even a conversation of “I may be older but I am still *insert adjective typically associated with younger women here*”. Sophie is possibly the first female character I’ve ever seen who isn’t just unapologetic about her age but has never had to apologise for her age. It’s a non-issue and that’s that. The women on the show are written so well, right down to secondary characters and it’s beyond refreshing.

4.) It’s just fun. The show has a “monster of the week” type format. Except instead of a ghoul or a ghost, the monster is some corrupt wealthy and powerful individual or organisation. The show draws on real-life individuals to do this and therefore closely parallels real-life people and events. It addresses important political, economical, social and environmental issues while at the same time remaining fun and light-hearted. The characters constantly get the chance to play dress up and by GOD do they have fun with it. You get to watch Eliot beat up bad guys in the most delightful of ways, usually after a witty non-sequitur and with a weapon you’d never think could be a weapon. The dialogue and back and forth between the characters is everything. And finally - my favourite thing- the team can never resist striking a dramatic pose after they’ve taken down the bad guy, making sure the bad guy sees them. I mean, they COULD just walk away, satisfied they’ve taken the person down, but nope. They gotta be dramatic bitches 24/7 and pose like they are models for every single month of this year’s Criminal Calendar.

5.) Competence Porn. So. Much. Competence Porn.

Honestly, I could list a thousand reasons for why Leverage is amazing but to list them would to be spoiling so many amazing moments you’d get to discover for the first time on your own if you do choose to watch it. It’s the kind of show you can watch with an eagle-eye and sink your teeth into. But it’s also the kind of show if, you would prefer, put on in the background for something entertaining while you do something else. Each episode is about the job at hand but it’s made up of so many moments between the characters that show how much the creators and writers care about them. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll do whatever it is you do when something Soft and Wonderful happens that makes your heart melt. I am so beyond grateful for Leverage. It’s everything I always wanted in a show. Nearly every show I’ve watched in the past 10 years has disappointed me in some way, usually either because the writers run out of steam or characters who I love are treated poorly or given some kind of unnecessary “shock value” arc. Leverage doesn’t do that. Leverage is what it says on the bottle. Fandom isn’t something I joined because I needed canon fix-its. Fandom only enhances and celebrates an already excellent canon.

#leverage #leverage ot3 #parker #alec hardison #eliot spencer #sophie devereaux #nate ford #talk leverage to me

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sineala · 3 years

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Tony Stark and Arthuriana

Coming to you by special request, a very long post about 616 Tony's interest in Arthuriana, with a focus on all of Tony's run-ins with Morgan le Fay!

I feel like I should disclaim the extent of my knowledge here, which is that I still haven't managed to read anywhere near every issue of Iron Man -- at least, not yet, anyway -- so I'm just going by the things I know I've read, and Morgan le Fay's Marvel wiki entry is frustratingly under-cited, so it's very possible I've missed something relevant, but I'm pretty sure I've got the big stuff down. My other disclaimer here is that I'm not as big an Arthurian nerd as Tony is, which is to say that most of my familiarity comes from modern retellings -- T. H. White's The Once and Future King, Marion Zimmer Bradley's The Mists of Avalon, Mary Stewart's The Crystal Cave, Rosemary Sutcliff's Sword at Sunset -- and not so much the usual classic sources on the Matter of Britain, though I've read bits and pieces of them.

(This is because I wanted to read versions of them that were as close to the original as possible but so far have not ended up finishing any of them because, well, that's hard. So I've never read the Mabinogion because I do not know Welsh. I've got the Norton Critical Edition of Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur, which is probably the best student edition if you're looking for something without modernized spellings, as I was. I've also got -- well, okay, it's my wife's but I'm borrowing it -- a relatively recent Boydell & Brewer edition (ed. Reeve, tr. Wright) of Geoffrey of Monmouth's Historia Regum Britanniae (History of the Kings of Britain), which is, you guessed it, in Latin with a facing English translation. I haven't gotten very far in it because, in case you didn't know this about Latin texts, the beginning is pretty much always the hardest, so I gave up and read some Plautus adaptations instead. Anyway, if for some reason you too want to read Geoffrey of Monmouth in the original Latin I'd recommend that one, but I can't recommend any particular English translations because I've never read one by itself. I bet you didn't think you'd be getting Latin prose recommendations in this post. I mean, maybe you did; it is me, after all.)

Okay. Right. King Arthur. Here we go.

We've got:

Flashbacks to Tony's childhood in late Iron Man volume 1

A brief discussion of Morgan's origin story and Avengers #187

Iron Man vol 1 #149-150: Doomquest

What If vol 1 #33: What if Iron Man was trapped in the time of King Arthur?

Iron Man vol 1 #249-250: Recurring Knightmare

Iron Man: Legacy of Doom #1-4

Avengers vol 3 #1-4: The Morgan Conquest

Civil War: The Confession

Mighty Avengers vol 1 #9-11: Time Is On No One's Side

In terms of universe-internal chronology, we know from Iron Man #287, from 1992, that Tony has been a fan of King Arthur since childhood. This is an issue of a fandom-favorite arc which features Tony having a lot of childhood flashbacks, including the famous "Stark men are made of iron" line (in #286) that for some reason MCU fandom decided it loved; I mean, seriously, I've seen that quoted in way more MCU fic than 616 fic. But slightly later, in #287, we get an entire page devoted to Tony's love of King Arthur.

The narration reads: "Over the next few years, I learned as my father intended. Discipline of body. Strength of character. But in what free time I was allowed, I worked my way through the school's library. At thirteen, I discovered Mallory [sic], who showed me a whole new world. A world of dedication to a cause greater than oneself. Of chivalry and honor. And the fantastic deeds -- of armored heroes."

The art shows Tony as a child sitting under a tree, reading a book labeled Mort D'Arthur by Mallory [sic] -- no, don't ask me why nobody at Marvel checked how to spell either the name of the book or its author -- and daydreaming of King Arthur, the Sword in the Stone, knights, et cetera. Just in case you somehow missed the extremely blatant hint that we are meant to understand that Tony's knight obsession heavily influenced him becoming Iron Man as an adult, we see one of his armors mixed in with all the drawings of knights. So, yes, canonically Tony is Iron Man at least partly because he's a giant King Arthur nerd, which I think is so very sweet. I love him. He's such a dork!

(This issue is currently in print in the Iron Man Epic Collection War Machine, should you need your own copy.)

This isn't actually the only reference to Tony as a King Arthur fanboy in this era of canon, either; a little later, in IM #298, we see that one of Tony's passwords is actually "Mallory." (Yeah, no, they still couldn't spell. But it's cute.)

But in terms of actual publication order, this is definitely not the first time we have seen in canon that Tony is into Arthuriana, as I'm sure you all know. I would assume, in fact, that giving Tony a childhood interest in Arthuriana is because Doomquest is one of the most beloved Iron Man story arcs of all time, and that all started at least a decade before IM #287 here was published.

The villain of Doomquest -- the one who isn't Doctor Doom, at least -- is Morgan le Fay. Yes, that Morgan le Fay. Yes, Arthur's evil half-sister Morgan le Fay. Yes, all of this King Arthur stuff is canonically real history on Earth-616. Morgan's first appearance in Marvel, per the wiki, was in Black Knight #1 (1955), which I have not read, and judging by the summary I feel like this is probably just supposed to be a straight-up comic retelling of Arthurian legends for kids; I don't think Marvel really had the whole Marvel Universe in mind as a concept in 1955, so I'm not sure this was meant to connect to anything else. I feel like this is another one of those instances of Marvel discovering that they can write comics about characters in the public domain for free -- like, I'm pretty sure that's how we also ended up with, like, Norse, Greek, and Roman mythology wedged into 616.

As far as I can tell from the wiki, the first time Morgan tangled with the Avengers (or indeed the larger 616 universe) in any way actually predated Doomquest -- it was in an early arc in Spider-Woman (#2-6) and then Avengers #187, which came out in 1979, actually right when Demon in a Bottle was happening over in Iron Man comics. If you read #187, Iron Man is not in it because he's off the team due to his drinking problem and also his accidentally murdering the Carnelian ambassador problem. So Wonder Man's filling in instead. This issue is part of Michelinie's rather sporadic Avengers run, which makes sense, I guess, considering where we see Morgan next.

Anyway, Avengers #187 is the classic issue where Wanda is possessed by Chthon, but what you may not remember from Chthon's backstory (I sure didn't!) is that he was summoned by Morgan le Fay because she was the first person who tried to wield the Darkhold to summon him. As you can imagine, this did not work out especially well for her and her followers and they had to seal Chthon away in Wundagore Mountain, which was where Wanda found him. (The Spider-Woman stuff is only slightly earlier and also appears to be about Morgan and the Darkhold; the Darkhold is not one of the areas of 616 canon I am especially conversant with, alas. It's on my to-read list.)

Doomquest, as you probably know, was a classic Iron Man two-parter in Layton & Michelinie's first Iron Man run that set up Tony and Doom as rivals; Doomquest itself was IM #149-150, in 1981, and then in their second IM run they came back and did a sequel in 1989, Recurring Knightmare (IM #249-250), and then the much later four-part sequel to that was the 2008 miniseries Iron Man: Legacy of Doom, which was also by Layton & Michelinie but generally does not seem to be as popular as the first two parts. They've all been reprinted, if you're looking for copies; I have a Doomquest hardcover that collects the first four issues and then a separate Legacy of Doom hardcover. Currently in the Iron Man Epic Collection line there's a volume called Doom, which confusingly only collects the 249-250 part of the storyline (as well as surrounding issues), because for some reason the first Layton & Michelinie run isn't in Epics yet but the second one is. So the beginning of Doomquest isn't currently in print, as far as I can tell. I'm sure you can find it anyway.

So what's Doomquest about? Okay, so you remember how Doctor Doom's mother's soul is stuck in hell for all eternity? Well, Doom's obviously interested in getting her back, and the strategy he has embarked on is to try to team up with other powerful magicians who can help him out, and he thinks Morgan le Fay would be a good choice, for, uh, his quest. Doom's quest. A Doomquest, if you will. (If you've ever read Doctor Strange & Doctor Doom: Triumph & Torment, you're familiar with the part where he later ends up waylaying Strange for this and they go to hell together. And if you haven't read Triumph & Torment, you really should, because it's amazing.)

So Doom is off to his time machine to go team up with Morgan le Fay and Tony thinks Doom is up to something -- Doom has been stealing components for his time machine from a lot of people, including Tony -- and he follows him and it turns out one of Doom's lackeys has a grudge and wants to trap Doom in the past forever, and Tony gets caught up in it. Now they're both in Camelot. Surprise! #149 is actually all setup; they don't get to Camelot until #150.

IM #150 begins with Doom and Tony thrown back into the past; there's a fandom-famous splash page of them locked in combat, only to realize that they have found themselves in Camelot.

They are then discovered by knights; Doom would very much like to attack them, but Tony, who naturally would be happy to LARP Camelot forever, persuades him to play nice. Also Doom thinks Iron Man is only Tony's bodyguard so he keeps referring to him as "lackey," much to Tony's annoyance. Somehow everyone thinks they're sorcerers. Can't imagine why. The knights take them to meet King Arthur himself, and Tony has clearly had his introduction all ready to go, as he introduces himself in a timeline-appropriate manner, says he's here to apprehend Doom, and demonstrates his "magic" by levitating Arthur's throne. Doom's response is essentially "I'm the king of Latveria," which is, y'know, also valid. So they're guests at Camelot for the night while Arthur figures out what to do with them.

We then have a page devoted to Tony alone in his room, musing sadly about how alien he feels, how he doesn't know if he'll ever get home, how he could never fit in here without his beloved technology. Then a Sexy Lady shows up to keep him company for the night, and he decides maybe it's not all bad. Thanks, Marvel. I guess they can't all be winners.

Doom is using his evening much more productively; he compels one of the servants to tell him where Morgan's castle is, because he's still interested in having that team-up. Then he jets off. Literally. He has a jetpack.

The next morning Arthur's like "one of you is still here and one of you has punched a hole through the castle wall and flown off to join Morgan so I guess I know which of you is more trustworthy." He then explains to Tony who Morgan is, because Tony professes ignorance, because clearly we had not yet retconned in Tony's love of Arthuriana. Tony offers to go fight Doom and Morgan with Arthur; meanwhile, Morgan and Doom have teamed up and Morgan has offered to help get Doom's mother out of hell if he commands her undead armies against Arthur because for Reasons she can't command them herself anymore. So that's a thing that happens.

So, yes, it's Tony and Arthur versus Doom and Morgan. Fight fight fight!

Tony tries Doom first but then decides to hunt Morgan down, and in the ensuing fight we get what I think is Tony's first ever "I hate magic," a complaint that we all know he still makes even to this day.

Anyway, Tony freezes a dragon with Freon (mmm, technology) and Morgan gets upset and disappears, so the battle comes to an end, and of course Doom is extremely mad at Tony because he blames Tony for Morgan not sticking around to save Doom's mom, because I guess Doom trusted her to keep her word? Weird. (Like I said, for the next chapter of Doom saving his mother, go read Triumph & Torment.)

Doom says if he and Tony work together, the components in both of their armors can send them both home. So Tony has to trust Doom. Which he does, because he really has no other choice. They build a time machine and Tony makes Doom agree to a 24-hour truce when they get back, so they can both get home. So it all works out okay, and they end up in the present, and Doom tells him, ominously, that they will meet again. Okay, then. That concludes the original Doomquest. It's fun! You can see why fandom likes it.

So that's all well and good, but you might have noticed that Tony's ability to get home hinged on Doom actually being trustworthy. And Doom was. But what if Doom hadn't been? What if he'd just stranded Tony in Camelot forever As you may have surmised from the form of that question, that is in fact a question Marvel asked themselves, because, yes, there's a What If about this! What If v1 #33 is "What if Iron Man was trapped in the time of King Arthur?"

The divergence point from canon, as you can probably guess, is the very end of Doomquest. Instead of Doom bringing Tony home, he deceives him and leaves him in Camelot. And since Tony cannibalized a lot of the tech from his armor to make the time machine, he doesn't have a way to go home.

This is not a story where Tony comes up with a way to go home after all. He really doesn't get to go home. But instead of drowning his sorrows in mead -- because, remember, Demon in a Bottle has already happened and Tony is sober now -- he decides he might as well just play the hand he's dealt. So with what's left of his armor, he defeats some enemies that Morgan rounds up to send against Camelot. And for his services, he's knighted. He is now Sir Anthony.

Tony acknowledges that he is both living the dream and would also like very, very much to go home.

He does end up having some fun in Camelot; it's not all miserable. But he obviously doesn't want to be there.

So if you're at all familiar with King Arthur, you know how this goes, right? Arthur fights Mordred and Mordred kills him. And that does happen in this version. Except Tony is right there, and with his dying words, Arthur asks Tony to rule Camelot... and Tony agrees.

So, yes, Tony Stark becomes king of the Britons after Arthur's death and he never goes home again. The end. Man, I love What Ifs.

Heading back to main 616 continuity, there is still more of this arc to go. The original Doomquest was only two issues, yes, but it was popular enough that Layton & Michelinie did a sequel a hundred issues later, in their second run of Iron Man, and that's Iron Man #249-250, Recurring Knightmare. (In the intervening issues were Denny O'Neil's IM run, specifically the second drinking arc (#160-200), and then Layton & Michelinie came back and most famously gave us Armor Wars (#225-232). I would have to say that Armor Wars is definitely the standout fandom-favorite arc of their second IM run; for their first one, I think a lot of people would have a hard time choosing between Doomquest and Demon.) But anyway, yes. Recurring Knightmare.

Recurring Knightmare is... well, the best way I can describe it is "a trip." It is definitely a sequel to Doomquest, and it is also definitely not a sequel you would ever have expected to see for Doomquest.

Much like #149, #249 is pretty much just setup. Fun setup, but the big action is in the next issue. We open with Doom in Latveria, on his throne, pondering which of his servants he should have disintegrated. Anyway, he's just hanging out there when a mysterious object appears. In California, Tony is suited up and entertaining the crowd at a mall opening when the same object also appears! He takes it to his lab. Please note that this is after the Kathy Dare incident, so Tony is still recovering and is walking with a cane. Doom sees on the news that Iron Man has found the same object, which cannot be carbon-dated, and he shows up at Tony's house. He criticizes Tony's taste in art.

Anyway, Doom basically orders Tony to work with him. Tony refuses, and then Doom sends some robots to attempt to steal Tony's version of the object because he thinks if he has them both he will be powerful. Doom manages to steal it, and when he puts the pieces together, both he and Tony disappear.

So where do they go, you might ask? Camelot?

Not exactly. The future! There is a great callback to the Doomquest splash page.

It turns out they are in London in 2093. Merlin brought them there. Tony still hates magic. And in the future, King Arthur is still there, except he is now a child, because he has been reborn. But he does remember Tony from Doomquest, at which point Tony kneels. Doom, of course, is not impressed. He asks why they have been brought to the future.

The answer is that things are going wrong in the future. If you do not personally remember United States politics in the 1980s, I need you to google the words "Strategic Defense Initiative" right now. I'll wait.

Back with me? Okay, so this is a future where Reagan's Star Wars program actually happened the way he wanted it to, and the satellites are still hanging around the Earth in the future and messing everything up, and Arthur and Merlin need Tony and Doom's help to stop them. Doom once again flies away with his jetpack, of course.

Tony is game to help, but he's not in an armor that can stay in space for long. This is when Merlin takes him and Arthur to the mall and Tony manages to get everything to upgrade his armor at Radio Shack. You see what I meant about this issue being weird.

Tony is out in space trying to disarm the SDI platform, which is where he runs into his future descendant, Andros Stark, who is in armor you will probably recognize from Iron Man 2020. He is referred to as "the resurrected spawn of Iron Man 2020" so I assume he's actually directly related to Arno rather than a direct descendant of Tony; Wiki confirms that Arno is his grandfather. This is all from way before Arno was contemporaneous with Tony in canon. Anyway, he's fighting Tony.

Oh, by the way, Future Doom exists. Future Doom would like to rule this future Earth and for some reason Andros would like to help him. Meanwhile, Present Doom finds out from Merlin that he can't leave except by magic and he can't leave without Tony, so he is reluctantly on Tony's side.

They need help from the Lady of the Lake, except the lake has been paved over and is now a parking lot. Merlin makes the lake come back and then of course they get Excalibur. Arthur is a kid, so he can't wield a longsword; Doom assumes he's going to take it because he is basically a king, and he's pretty grumpy when the sword picks Tony. Tony then uses Excalibur to destroy the space lasers, and I bet that is a sentence you never thought you would read. It's pretty cool. Tony concludes that magic has its good points. Tony stops Andros and Doom stops, uh, himself, and the world is saved and they get to go home. Also, Doom finds out Tony is Iron Man, but when Merlin sends them back he conveniently erases their memories, so neither of them remember anything about this and Tony's secret is still safe. And that's the sequel to Doomquest.

And if you think that's weird, wait until you see Legacy of Doom.

Iron Man: Legacy of Doom is a four-issue miniseries from 2008, also by Layton and Michelinie. Even though it's from 2008, it's set during a much more classic time in Iron Man, continuing on from where we left off in this Doomquest saga. We start with a framing story in 2008. Tony, who has Extremis now, is busy scrapping some of his older armors and reviewing his logs when he suddenly remembers that there was a whole thing with Doom that happened that he seems to have forgotten about until right now. So the whole thing is narrated by Tony in flashback.

Tony's in space fixing a satellite when a hologram of Doom shows up and summons him to Latveria. It's not really clear why Doom needs Tony's help in particular here, but Doom tells Tony that he's discovered that Mephisto would like to bring about the end of the world, which Doom finds, and I quote, "presumptive." So Doom has his Time Cube, and with it he takes Tony to hell.

(Yes, I promise this is relevant to Doomquest. There will be some Arthuriana shortly.)

Doom brings Tony to Mephisto, and it turns out it's a setup! Doom trades Tony for an item he wants from Mephisto, leaves, and Tony's going to be trapped in hell forever! Oh no! (I mean, he's not. But it's quite a cliffhanger.)

At the beginning of issue #2, we find out what the Arthurian connection is, which is that we learned that after the events of Doomquest, Morgan had been granted sanctuary by Mephisto in exchange for a shard of Excalibur that she had somehow stolen. Doom still wants Morgan's help with some magic -- he doesn't mention what it is here, but he says he needs someone of Pendragon blood, and that'd be her -- so he traded Tony to Mephisto in exchange for, I'm guessing, Morgan and the Excalibur shard.

I have probably mentioned this elsewhere, but Legacy of Doom #2 is one of my favorite issues of Iron Man ever, solely because of the next scene. We return to Tony in hell. Howard Stark is also in hell, and he is now a demon, and Tony has to fight him. Mephisto brings popcorn and watches. This is the one time in canon when Tony actually confronts his father, and okay, yes, it's a fistfight in hell and Howard is a demon, but that's comics for you. Howard spends several pages insulting Tony -- specifically insulting his masculinity, but that's a whole other essay -- until he finally insults Maria too, and that's when Tony fights back, because his mother taught him to be good. Honestly if you're a Tony fan I'd recommend this issue just for that scene.

Anyway, we go back to the Doom and Morgan plot, and Morgan casts the spell Doom wanted, which was fusing the Excalibur shard with Doom's armor. Then Doom sends her back to Camelot rather than hell, because he's still mad that she never helped him get his mom out of hell like she said she would.

Tony freezes Howard with Freon -- yes, the same trick he pulled on the dragon back in Doomquest -- and tells him, "You're no father of mine." It is immensely satisfying.

(I had been going to mention that I thought it was a shame that neither canon nor fandom seems to have really engaged with this confrontation, and I know canon never believes in narrative closure but fandom sure does -- and then, anyway, it occurred to me that since the framing story of Tony remembering this is set when Tony has Extremis, there's a very good chance that he no longer remembers remembering it. Goddammit, Marvel.)

(If I got to retcon one canon thing about Tony, I think "the entirety of World's Most Wanted" is up there. I mean, okay, a lot of things are up there, but WMW is definitely on the shortlist.)

Okay. Tony has now engineered his way out of hell, and he's back with Doom in Latveria. Doom has Excalibur. Doom would very much like to fight him. While wielding Excalibur. You get the sense that this is going to be bad. Another cliffhanger!

Legacy of Doom #3 opens with Tony destroying Doom's lab to buy time and running away from Doom and Excalibur. I should probably mention that Doom still doesn't know Tony is Iron Man (anymore), so he thinks he is dealing only with Iron Man, Tony Stark's lackey. Meanwhile, some scientists at SI think there's something weird going on with space. Meanwhile meanwhile, Tony is in a forest taking a breather when a mysterious old man walks up to him.

It's Merlin! Surprise! Merlin wants Tony's help to stop Doom from doing whatever he's doing with Excalibur. The sword makes you invincible and the scabbard makes you invulnerable, so Merlin sends Tony to Scotland on a fetch quest for the scabbard. Doom has now magically sent the sword in search of the scabbard, so the sword flies away to meet it and Doom follows. Turns out the thing that's wrong with space is a thing that's going to hit Earth at the exact place Tony and Doom are. What a coincidence! So Tony and Doom get trapped in a stone circle and fight some stone warriors and then Tony ends up with the scabbard. And by "ends up with," I mean it fuses to his armor. Next issue!

Legacy of Doom #4 is when things really, really get weird. A giant demon made of eyes (???) appears, and this demon is apparently what Doom had been preparing to fight (because it's mad that Doom stole one of its spellbooks), and now he can't, because the sword and the scabbard aren't together. Thanks, Shellhead.

That's when Merlin shows up and says all is not lost. They can defeat the demon... if they put the sword into the scabbard.

"But I'm the scabbard now!" Tony says, uncomprehending.

"Yes," Merlin says. "You are."

Then Tony gets it.

So, yes, Doom has to, um, penetrate Tony. With Excalibur. I love comics. I love comics so much.

So that's a thing that happens.

And then Tony flies off and, I guess, resolves to never, ever think about any of this again.

We head back to the framing story, in which Tony, now having remembered all of this, flies to Britain, buys the land the lake is on, and paves it over, presumably so it will be there for Merlin to bring back in Iron Man #250. The end.

Whew.

Okay, yeah, I know I didn't have to summarize the whole thing, but Legacy of Doom here really is one of my favorite Iron Man miniseries. And I just want to share the love. Please read it. It's great.

But the Arthuriana fun doesn't end there! In fact, now we get an Arthurian-themed arc that actually isn't in Iron Man comics. It's in Avengers! Iron Man is involved, though.

(There is also apparently a Morgan arc in Avengers #240. I actually haven't read it. It seems to be yet another Spider-Woman arc. I get the impression that this isn't really Arthuriana other than having Morgan in it fighting Jess, though, so it doesn't seem quite as relevant. Morgan also apparently has some appearances in FF, Journey into Mystery, and Marvel Team-Up, but those seem like more of just basic villainy. Also, probably not involving Tony.)

Kurt Busiek's 1998 Avengers run, volume 3, is in large part the kind of Avengers run that is a nostalgic love letter to older comics. Heroes are heroes and villains are villains and good triumphs over evil. The Avengers all live in the mansion and are BFFs. I love it. It does assume that you are already a fan of the Avengers, because it starts out by summoning pretty much everyone who has ever been an Avenger and is available to the mansion, and that is... a lot of people. Thirty-nine, by my count. Also, when the entire team is magically whisked away, we are treated to the following narration, as Steve disappears: "And Captain America's last thought, as the world goes white around him, and he with it -- is that Iron Man would hate this."

The narration doesn't tell you why Iron Man would hate this, or how Captain America would know that Iron Man hates this. This is not explained later on. But if you have read comics -- or if you have read the above summary of Doomquest -- you know that Tony is absolutely, one hundred percent, thinking, "I hate magic." And Steve knows it.

The reference is not relevant to the plot; if you don't get it, you'll be fine. But that's what I mean when I say this is a nostalgia run. There are definitely Easter eggs for people who have read a bunch of comics. Busiek does this a whole lot in his work -- there's a reason you can buy an annotated edition of Marvels -- and, yeah, it happens here too. Just know that there will be references you're not getting, if you're new to comics.

Anyway. So Busiek's run actually starts out with an Arthurian arc, #1-4, "The Morgan Conquest." The name is a dead giveaway. Yes, Morgan le Fay is back. Again. For once, Doom is not involved.

The Avengers are all back from their sojourn on Counter-Earth after fighting Onslaught -- don't worry about it -- and mysterious things are happening. There are a lot of monster attacks. So pretty much everyone who has ever been an Avenger is summoned to the mansion, at which point we learn from Thor about some mystical artifacts that are being stolen. (They are the Norn Stones and also the Twilight Sword. That sounds like something from a Zelda game, doesn't it?) The Avengers go to try to stop this, end up in Tintagel, and then they run into Mordred. He wants to capture Wanda, presumably for Magic Reasons. Morgan le Fay casts a spell on all of them, reshaping reality. Yes, all of them. Surprise!

So now all the Avengers are living in a medieval castle and/or town; Morgan is their queen, and thanks to the power of mind-control they are all basically living in Ye Olden Times. The Avengers are all some variety of knight, except for Wanda, who is chained up in the dungeon so Morgan can steal her magic and use it to fuel all this reality-warping.

Wanda calls for help, and that snaps Steve (Yeoman America!) out of the mind control (or altered reality or whatever you want to call it) pretty fast, because Steve's always been very good at resisting mind control, and then Steve promptly goes and snaps Clint out of it, because I guess Steve is also good at inspiring people to snap out of mind control. "Oh, man!" Clint says. "Not another alternate reality! Not again!" (I assume he's referring to Counter-Earth? Maybe?)

So Steve and Clint go around reassembling the Avengers and orienting them as to reality. They get Jan and Monica easily, but then Steve insists on trying to get Tony because, I guess, he likes Tony and would really like to hang around Tony, who is half-naked and asleep in his bedroom, and certainly I am reading nothing whatsoever into this. Clint tells Steve it's not going to work. Tony has historically been fairly susceptible to mind control; it was only pretty recently at this point that he'd been doing Kang's bidding in The Crossing. But the more serious impediment is that this is Tony Stark and he would obviously like to LARP being a knight forever and ever. Tony, therefore, does not believe Steve, and throws him and Clint out of his bedroom and into the barracks.

"Iron Man's a good guy, normally," Clint says. "But he's waaay too into his whole nobleman/lord of the manor trip. That spell musta hit him right where he lives!"

Clint speaks the truth, clearly.

Anyway, they go around and manage to make pretty much every Avenger in the room other than Tony snap out, and attempt to rebel against Morgan while Tony is stil fighting them because he is Still A Knight. There's a lot of punching, because some of the Avengers still aren't free; they weren't ones Steve found.

The day is saved when Wanda manages to channel Wonder Man and break free. This gives the Avengers a fighting chance against Morgan and the Avengers are all lending Wanda their power when Tony finally snaps out of it and is on the side of good.

Then they take Morgan down, go home, and attempt to figure out which of these thirty-nine people should be on the active Avengers team. Hooray.

But that's not the end of Morgan le Fay showing up to screw around with Tony's life! There's more to come! Not much, but there is one that I know of, and at least one more memorable reference.

(I haven't read all her appearances or anything, but one of them definitely involves Tony; I can't swear that he doesn't appear in any of the other books Morgan shows up in, but it'd be a cameo for him, because I only know of one more arc that she's in in a book that Tony stars in.)

In a few more years, we have now entered the part of Marvel Comics history where Brian Michael Bendis writes all the Avengers books at the same time for, like, seven years running. It was sure A Time. There were a lot of word bubbles.

And the thing about Bendis is, Bendis looooooves Doomquest. If you're familiar with the very end of his tenure at Marvel where he made Doom be Iron Man after Tony got knocked into a coma in Civil War II, you have probably figured out already that he likes Doom. But he also likes Doomquest, specifically.

I mean, if nothing else, the giant splash page in The Confession where Maleev redrew the climactic Doomquest fight while Bendis had Tony talk about how deeply meaningful to his understanding of the world this all was -- and how it allowed him to predict Civil War -- was probably a big clue, right?

As far as I am aware, Morgan le Fay makes exactly one more appearance in Tony's life. And that's in Mighty Avengers vol 1 #9-11. Only one of those issues is named, so I'm going to assume the arc is named after it: Time Is On No One's Side.

You remember Mighty Avengers, right? The deal with the Avengers books at the time was that after Bendis exploded the mansion and made the team disband in Avengers Disassembled, the main Avengers book was no longer called just Avengers. Instead, the main Avengers book was New Avengers, and that was the only Avengers book. Then Civil War happened, Steve got killed, and New Avengers became the book about what was left of the SHRA resistance (i.e., Steve's side) after the war. So about halfway through New Avengers, Mighty Avengers starts up, and Mighty Avengers is about an extremely fucked-up and grief-stricken Tony Stark trying to run the official government-sanctioned Avengers team, with Carol's help. This is the comic with the arc where Tony turned into naked girl Ultron. You remember.

So, anyway, there's this Mighty Avengers arc where Doom is Up To Something (there are symbiotes and a satellite involved) and somehow Tony and the Avengers end up in Latveria, punching Doom. Also, by the way, Doom is visiting Morgan in the past because he likes her. The Avengers attacking his castle made him have to come back to the present, so he's kind of cranky. And he fights Tony, and in the course of the fight, his time platform explodes and sends Doom and Tony and also the Sentry to... the past.

This is one of those times where you should definitely look up the comics if possible because the way the past is visually indicated here is that it's colored with halftone dots the way you would expect old comics to be colored, although they have modern shading and color palettes. It's very charmingly retro.

So the three of them are stuck in New York in the past, and naturally they would like to leave. There's one person in this time who has a time machine and it is, of course, Reed Richards. Doom and Tony have a lot of banter in this arc; I think it's entertaining.

Sentry has to be the one to break them all into the Baxter Building because of that power he has where no one will remember him. So they do that, travel forward in time, and end up in Latveria in the present again except Doom is gone and also things are currently exploding where they are.

Doom, of course, has made a side trip to visit Morgan again and he asks her to help him build an army, because I guess this is what their relationship is like. So the rest of the Avengers are captured by what look to me like Mindless Ones and are in a cave in magic bondage, because comics. Jess comments that at least they aren't naked, because she too is remembering that memorable New Avengers trip to the Savage Land. Doom threatens Carol in some creepy sexist ways and eventually it turns out that Tony and the Sentry are fine and everyone kicks Doom's ass. Business as usual.

And the last page of the arc is Morgan alone, wondering where Doom is. So technically Morgan and Tony don't come face to face here, but I think she counts as being at least partially responsible for ruining Tony's day here. And then Secret Invasion happens and Tony has a very, very bad day.

There are a few more Morgan appearances after this, but, as I said, I don't think any of them involve Tony. She shows up in Dark Avengers, apparently, which was one of the post-Civil War Avengers titles I didn't read, and I know that recently, on the X-Men side of things, she's been in Tini Howard's Excalibur one, which I have only read a little of. No Tony there. Just a lot of Morgan and Betsy Braddock and Brian Braddock and the Otherworld.

If you are interested in Morgan's other appearances, you might like this Marvel listicle that is Morgan le Fay's six most malicious acts. I pulled some of the Darkhold backstory from their discussion, but it's not really focused on Morgan and Tony.

So there you have it! That's everything I know about Tony's love for King Arthur and every run-in I know about that he's had with Morgan le Fay! One of two terrible people in Tony's life named Morgan! Actually, I don't think we've seen Morgan Stark in a while. I wonder if he's alive. There should be a Morgan & Morgan team-up. I should probably stop typing and post this.

The tl;dr point is that you should all read Doomquest and its sequels, especially Legacy of Doom. They're great!

#posts i actually wrote

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ghostietea · 4 years

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On Tohru and Akito: a long overdue analysis

As some may know, Tohru Honda and Akito Sohma from the manga Fruits Basket are pretty much my all time favorite protagonist/antagonist pair. They just work incredibly well as thematic pieces and driving forces of the story in relation to eachother. And beyond even the surface level they have a rich and layered goldmine of parallels that make them fascinating to think about. While it may make many a newbie raise an eyebrow, I think this is a fact that is to some level pretty widely acknowledged in the fandom proper. However, there is another level of their relationship that is often mostly left out of analytical conversations about them and their parallels: their eventual friendship. Something which, partly due to screentime, is often somewhat simplified down and misinterpreted. Which I think is a shame because, when you look at it, their eleventh hour friendship is deeply interwoven with their parallels and the very thematics and ending of the story. So then, what’s really going on with the girls that stand as part of the thematic core of Furuba? Beyond (most of, true analytical objectivity is impossible in interpretation) my personal sentimental feelings, let’s talk Akito and Tohru: their parallels, relationship, and role in the story overal. Read more present, this is going to be a long one but I hope you stick around 😊

One facet of Akito and Tohru’s role in relationship to eachother that I think is both interesting and imperative to understanding their purpose is their nature as eachother’s foils, especially their parallels. See, the two girls are both opposite and the same. Takaya sets them up as foils before we even properly meet Akito, as you can see in these panels:

However, their foil relationship becomes a lot more intriguing once their similarities become more apparent later in the story. Just think about it: two girls with boy’s names whose fathers died when they were young, leaving them alone with their mothers, who both developed behavior that, according to the environment that they grew up in, would keep them from being abandoned. Akito, coming from the cultish Sohma clan where she was treated as a God to the point that she thinks she can do no wrong and has tied all of her self worth to the role, plays the part of a male ruler who must uphold tradition and keep the zodiac with her by any means. Akito is terrified of being abandoned, especially since she has no idea how to have relationships outside of the context of the bond, only exacerbated by the fact that Ren, one of the only people that openly questions her role, has constantly told her that she’s useless and will be abandoned. This is something that informs all of her (many, terrible) decisions and leads her to try desperately to keep the curse together, something which puts her in direct conflict with Tohru, who actually wants the curse broken in part so that she won’t be abandoned. Tohru may not be as obvious with her abandonment issues as miss screeches-at-people-not-to-leave-her, but they still inform a good deal of her character. Like Akito, she develops behavior around the time of her father’s passing to try to keep herself from being abandoned, mirroring her father’s proper speech because she was worried that she was losing Kyoko. But, as she grew older in her much warmer environment, Tohru turned to kindness instead of fear to capture others, maintaining a facade of extreme positivity, politeness, and determination so as to not bother anyone. And, while she hides it, Tohru just gets worse after losing her mother. She becomes dedicated to preserving her feelings about her mother as is, refusing to move on much as Akito also refuses to move on from the curse and what her father wanted. Then comes the beach house reveal, where Tohru learns that Akito plans to take away her new family, even locking up the one most precious to her. Tohru tells herself that she’s going to break the curse for the freedom of the zodiac and cat, but she is also, in a way, doing it to keep herself from being abandoned. Later this feeling changes to become more focused on preventing the loss of Kyo himself, something which Tohru doesn’t want to admit. Tohru is a truly good and kind person and does want to help, yes, but also some part of her is doing this to keep the ones she loves by her side, understandably as she is a teen that recently lost the person she revolved her whole life around. But it comes to a point that you have to realize: Akito and Tohru are both motivated by the same thing, they just present it in wildly different ways. I don’t think that I have to explain how exactly their behavior foils eachother, the more worldly and modern Tohru acting on radical kindness and acceptance and thinking she deserves nothing while the sheltered, traditional Akito uses manipulation and fear to get what she thinks she is entitled to. It’s very apparent, but just gets even spicier in the context of how similar they are. Another parallel is in Tohru’s mom picture vs Akito’s father box, both relics of their dead and favorite parent that they are extremely protective of and treat almost like it is their deceased parent. Early in the series Tohru is seen carrying around a photo of her mom which she talks to, something which seems pretty harmless, until we consider how terrified she is every time she thinks she’s lost it, even going as far as to refer to it as if it were her mother. Notably, it barely shows up in the second half of the series, as she reluctantly drifts away from her mom and towards Kyo. In this later part of the series, we are introduced to Akito’s box, which she (semi, it’s complicated) thinks contains her father’s soul. Akito’s box is shown in a much darker light, from how the reveal of what it us to her is framed to how cruelly she reacts when it’s being stolen. Akito’s box is to Tohru’s photo what their owners narratively are to eachother: a dark mirror.

Ok, and now for the reason that I think it was important to bring all these parallels up first: because as you cannot understand Tohru and Akito as enemies without understanding their differences, you cannot understand them as friends without knowing their similarities. While it is easy to write off Tohru reaching out to Akito as just another case of Tohru being Tohru, that does a disservice to the full picture. I’ve seen around in the fandom that a good deal of people seem to think Tohru trying to befriend her is just Tohru being overly kind and forgiving, and this is something I think ties back a bit to some early fandom misconceptions about Tohru. Bear with me for a second, this is going to be a bit of a tangent but it ties back. It’s died down some now, but in the early Furuba fandom it was very common to just think of Tohru as a pretty flat nice girl doormat character, which besides misogyny is probably partially the fault of the 01 anime, which cuts off before we get to see more of Tohru’s insecurities and tones down what we do see (also, in the case of the relationship I’m talking about, 01 ads in that God awful end confrontation that I despise for being everything that I’m about to argue the ACTUAL confrontation that I like is not). Manga Tohru is a very subtle character, she hides a lot of her feelings behind a perpetually happy front which doesn’t start to let slip until later. And, since it’s later on in the manga which went unadapted for years and is mixed in with a bunch of crazy stuff, I think Tohru’s quiet development is often somewhat overlooked. For example, early series Tohru is very well known for the speeches she gives to the zodiac when she first meets them, speeches that, importantly, always tie back to things that her mom said. Tohru’s worldview back then revolved completely around Kyoko, so it’s probably a bit of a thing that in the later story, when Tohru draws ever nearer to the realization that she must move on, she does not give her mom speeches anymore? As opposed to the early story, when it was pretty much back to back character intros, in the late story Tohru notably only gets to befriend two new Sohmas: Isuzu and Akito. Notably, she doesn’t quote her mom either time, these are both people that she can relate to on some of her more hidden issues, and she shows a more personal side of her emotions in her turning point confrontations with them than she did earlier. It is especially important to realize that, in her confrontation on the cliff, Tohru is deciding that she is willing to go against her mom. Early series Tohru was a front anyways, and is a different Tohru from the one that finally gets through to Akito. I was using it as an example, but the evolution of Tohru’s befriending confrontations will be important later. Furthermore, there is the perception of Tohru as a doormat. Listen, Tohru may be very kind and polite, but one of her defining characteristics is being very determined and strong willed when need be. This is something that is especially relevant to her interactions with Akito. From the first meeting outside the school, Tohru knows to be wary of Akito and even breaks politeness and shoves her when she senses that Akito is making Yuki uncomfortable. This sets up immediately that Tohru can and will stand up to Akito. This is driven in even farther at the beach house, when Tohru, after again physically getting between Akito and a zodiac, decides that she will directly go against all of the Sohma family’s centuries of tradition and Akito herself to break the curse. There’s even a cute moment when, upon remembering Akito telling her not to, Tohru just decides to meddle even harder. Tohru, while polite about it, does not like Akito and puts herself in direct opposition to her. Tohru does not originally want to be Akito’s friend, or to have anything to do with her. The cliff scene is not just Tohru befriending someone because she just is over forgiving and loves everyone (an argument can be made that she still goes to easy on Akito, but it’s in line with how the narrative treats her too so that’s another conversation), there was a specific reason both that she chose to try to get through to Akito and that it actually worked. Up until their big confrontation, Tohru still thinks of Akito as a threat, and while she has gotten more information that shakes up her view of Akito, she still doesn’t understand her well enough to see her as much more than an obstacle. Then Akito barges into her yard when she’s just been rejected, crying and confessing how terrified she is of being abandoned, of things changing, and Tohru just goes still, eyes wide in shock. And she realizes: her and Akito have been afraid of the same thing the whole time. This is when Tohru decides to try to reach out to her. Because Tohru, on a deep level, sees Akito because of their similarities. She calls Akito out on her insecurities, and Akito reacts badly, accusing Tohru of being “dirty” and trying to condescend. Tohru partially rebukes this, not trying to hold herself above Akito as pure and righteous, but instead confessing her own fears of abandonment and change in an attempt to empathize with Akito.

At this part of the story, Tohru is fully coming into the realization that, in order to live her life, she needs to stop clinging to this idea of an “unchanging” relationship with her mom, something that scares her quite a bit. She realizes that, while she saw the flaws in Akito’s “eternity” and tried to destroy it, she had not been as perceptive with herself, clinging to that same notion. Tohru is an incredibly repressed character, especially in regards to emotions she thinks of as “dirty,” and she is showing a remarkable amount of vulnerability in this scene. Another thing to note about Tohru is that she, in her immense repression, will often process her own issues through other people. We see this throughout the story, from her showing grief over her mom by crying for Momiji and his mom to her projecting her fear of losing Kyo onto Kureno and Arisa. So then, it’s quite something to consider that the last Sohma she befriends is the one most emblematic of the issues she keeps locked up tightest? That as she’s speaking to her she’s deciding to move forward from her own fears? In a way, could accepting Akito be a symbol of Tohru accepting what she thinks are the darker parts of herself? Akito is also coming to a realization about moving on, acknowledging that the zodiac curse is coming to an end and that everything she believes is a lie, and she is absolutely distraught about it. But Tohru, in a way that nobody else does, understands Akito, and wants Akito to be her friend. Not out of pity or reverence, but a desire for solidarity. And this is the very reason why Tohru was actually able to get through to Akito. As we see with Kureno before he gets stabbed and Momiji at the beach house and when his curse breaks, it’s not like people haven’t kindly tried to get through to her before.

Of course, the reason it worked for Tohru can also be partially chalked up to the fact that Akito herself has come a long ways in personal realizations to the point that there’s just some things she can’t deny anymore, but that’s not all. Akito tends to react very negatively to what she sees as condescension, she thinks people want to try to pick her apart and see how she ticks just so they can look down on her, so they can see her as lesser. She thinks Tohru is trying to condescend too at first, especially since she perceives Tohru as this holier than thou saint wannabe. Fascinatingly, Akito’s view of Tohru is incredibly similar to that early fandom idea of Tohru as an angelic mary sue, and she hates her for it. She thinks that Tohru is trying to be like this and is seen as such, and that she (Akito) is the only who can see that Tohru is wrong somehow.

But Tohru rejects this notion of a pure her that both the fandom and her early self tried to project, presenting herself as flawed and human and purposefully trying to not put herself on a pedestal above Akito. She makes it very clear that she’s not trying to condescend, she is the same way (well, sorta) and she gets it. Notably, after this point Akito doesn’t accuse her of looking down on her, instead freaking out temporarily because of how much Tohru called her out before venting about her fears to her. And, while, partially due to outside circumstances, it does take Akito a bit longer to accept her offer of friendship, she legitimately manages to get through to her very soon after this point. If Tohru had tried one of her early series mom speeches on Akito, or just tried to blindly accept her without understanding, it would not have worked. Akito would have just written it off or reacted badly and left it there. But because Tohru tried to befriend Akito out of understanding as an equal it actually worked. You can’t separate Akito and Tohru’s parallels and their eventual friendship because one aspect is integral to the other.

A connected aspect of their relationship that I see talked of very little but is actually a pretty strong undercurrent is that of equality and power. To explain this, we have to look at Akito for a bit. Throughout her life, pretty much everyone around Akito has either put her on a pedestal or looked down on her. This is something that not only greatly damaged the way she thinks of herself and others, but has given her an intensely hierarchical view of relationships. We even see this notion clearly take form for her in the black paint scene, where she decides that Yuki, who she’d previously seen as the same as her, has to be lesser or else she will become useless. From the moment Akito was born she was “God,” an existence above everyone else. Even her own father only seems to give her affection for being God, and when he dies and she takes his place as the head of the family she is just elevated even farther at an extremely young age. The only people (she thinks) she’s close to are the zodiac, and the curse itself puts an inherent power dynamic into that relationship that can only be overcome with its undoing. Akito clings to her power, to her rank in the hierarchy, all the while the very thing she desperately upholds has made her the real outsider. Akito, who does everything in the name of belonging, was always alone from the start. As Tohru points out, as long as she is above the group she cannot be a part of it.

Simultaneously, and almost contradictory to the pedestalization and power dynamic aspect, Akito is extensively coddled and pitied. A lot of the older adults around her treat her almost like a crotchety, spoiled child. A child who is coddled to the point of never being given any reprimand or instruction on just how to behave like a functional human being until things have gone far too far. Then you have cases like Kureno, who seems to still see Akito like a kid, pretty much just coddles her as a job, and only stays because he pities her. This leads to a strange dual sided dynamic in multiple cases, where Akito is seen as someone’s better and has more power but is also being looked down upon in a way too. Akito has never in her life been seen and treated as an equal, so it’s pretty important when it is made clear that Tohru tries to befriend her as an equal. After all this time, Tohru, an outsider that is not under Akito’s control, who can hold her ground in a challenge against her, is finally the one to meet her on the same level. There’s this page that I adore that symbolizes this idea really nicely. It opens on a panel of Akito sitting a distance away from the zodiac who are all having fun together, a motif we’ve already seen a few times, but this time Tohru sits down right next to her.

This page comes at a critical moment, when Tohru is offering her hand in friendship to Tohru, it’s Akito realization of what Tohru is trying to do. Later on, we get Akito narrating what this page was showing, which I think I just need to put in:

We also see a bit of their conversation after they reunite in the hospital later, where Tohru again denies that she is better than Akito. Now, I think both the Tokyopop and Yen Press translations of this scene are a bit weird, the Tokyopop version uses the word “pretty” (confusing) while the Yen Press uses “kind” (don’t think that’s the best word). However one time I saw like a Malaysian english release in the half price books that used “pretty on the inside” and I like that best so I’ll just pretend that’s it.

I think this scene is interesting because it could seem like they’re just talking about morality but that’s not it. This is, once again, Tohru pretty explicitly trying to stop the creation of any sort of hierarchy between her and Akito. It’s not about right or wrong, Tohru know very well that Akito’s done things wrong and actively worked to stop her, it’s about not wanting them to be put on some sort of different rank based on morality and Tohru understanding Akito enough to empathize with the fact that (wrong or no) Akito was really hurt by Tohru and they won’t get anywhere if they don’t acknowledge that. Furthermore, I’ve already talked a bit about it already, but I think the way that Tohru asserts that she gets what Akito’s feeling and thinks she herself is “dirty” during their confrontation is relevant here too. She is, again, presenting herself as someone on the same level who understands Akito and is not being nice out of pity. This then leads to the page I talked about before which is again, Akito realizing this! This is a huge moment for her, someone who has had all of her relationships messed up by inequality and has no idea how to have a normal relationship, who is having a breakdown because she thinks that because of this it’s too late for anyone to love her, to have someone who understands her and wants to meet her on the same level. Even if she tries to deny it and shift blame, at this point Akito has realized that the zodiac bond is not what she thought and that she has been acting horribly. The groundwork is already there for Akito to have a change of heart, especially considering that a lot of her horribleness stems from legitimate extreme ignorance and her obsession with the bond so once she’s snapped out of that… The main thing that’s holding her back past that is that she’s panicking and cannot see a way forward. So then when there’s someone who actually gets where she’s coming from instead of just tolerating her and is offering her the sort of friendship that she’s never gotten to have of course she’d go for it! Tohru Honda has proven Akito wrong in ever way and, in the end, she even proves her wrong on her greatest fear: that she can only be wanted because she’s God. Because of Akito’s specific issues, nothing could have been more powerful for her than someone coming to her as an equal. Again, the piece about why Tohru could get through to her. It just wouldn’t be the same if Tohru didn’t have a reason to want Akito around or if she somehow saw Akito as below her, the very core of their relationship is the destruction of hierarchies. From the beginning Tohru has been trying to destroy the hierarchy of the zodiac, and when it comes down to it she does not take Akito’s spot at the top, but decides to stand beside her and the zodiac instead. Early in the series we see Akito trying to have some power over Tohru through fear, but when the time comes and Akito is pretty much defeated Tohru does not take power as the victor, hoping that Akito joins her instead of being somehow defeated. And at the end of it all this works, and Akito dissolves the zodiac and with it most of her power and her godhood of her own accord.

Despite their relative lack of page time, Tohru and Akito’s relationship has always been something that I come back to. Sure, a lot of that is just sentiment as they meant a lot to me when I was younger, but I think there’s something there. They work amazingly as protagonist and antagonist, contrasting nicely and working as symbols of both sides of the thematic conflict. There’s a palpable tension to their early interactions that makes you both scared and interested to see what happens when these two inevitably have to go head to head. But then, as the story goes on, it seems more and more like they are a tragedy, so similar yet on different sides of the story, fated to have one of them stuck with an unhappy ending brought on by the other.

But, even as dark as it gets, that wouldn’t really be Fruits Basket, would it? In the end, Tohru and Akito’s similarities win out, not their differences. I think it would have been so easy to just make this a story where the sweet heroine “saves” the villain just because, but that is so blatantly not what’s going on. Tohru simply sees herself in Akito, she’s not trying to somehow fix her and nor should she have to, she just wants to be her friend. And then the two manage to overcome their driving fear of moving on, forging new bonds and inspired by their interaction with the other. It’s not like Tohru somehow fixes Akito’s problems, Akito has to do things herself and in fact independence is a big theme of her endgame arc. Tohru simply offered her friendship, and that was enough. There’s a distinction to be made between how Tohru inspires Akito and Tohru somehow “saving” her, because Akito very much has to learn to save herself in the end after a lifetime of pushing her issues onto others. And, as a side note, all this is sort of why it bugs me when people act like Tohru would be like a mom to Akito. First off, Tohru shouldn’t have to be the mom to everyone. And, kind as she is, Tohru is also not a Kureno, she sees and interacts with Akito in a completely different way and their relationships with Akito are one of the big points were Tohru and Kureno differ. Second off, Akito has spent her life coddled and clinging onto anything that she can hold onto as a resemblance of parental affection to a toxic degree. Part of her arc is that she needs to grow out of this, become more independent, and have more balanced relationships. Akito at this point does not want or need to make a mommy figure out of one of her peers, and doing so may in fact be regressive. Sure, she will definitely need a level of guidance going forward, but it would be more beneficial for her to learn from example and under more of a friendly, balanced context coming from multiple people, not one person holding her hand. For all the reasons I’ve gone over in this entire post, I think it is much more meaningful for Akito to have Tohru as what she was canonically presented as in text: someone who sees her as an equal. The whole point of their relationship is, again, the defiance of hierarchies, something which I think is often sorely overlooked even though it is very openly there in text. And that, in part, is why I think their relationship is so powerful to me. Beyond hero and villain, right or wrong, or any story roles, it’s about two girls finding solidarity and friendship on a very personal, human level. This is Akito for the first time being seen not as this distant, untouchable male deity or some pitiful being, but as a flawed, hurt human girl who is nonetheless capable of change and being loved. This is Tohru coming out of hiding, presenting her flawed, terrified human self to someone she saw as an enemy. Fruits basket is, in part, a story about friendship and defeating systems of power and abuse. Even in a messy third act that muddles its themes at times by weighing character endings too heavily on het romantic love, especially in regards to the women (Hello Rin, Machi, Uo, ect.), Tohru and Akito stand out as a friendship that is given a huge amount of narrative weight. It just feels nice that, in a story that often focused on the power of relationships between women only to ditch all that and focus primarily on their relationships with men, these two girls are one of the driving forces of the endgame. The curse didn’t get broken by romantic love, but by the friendships everyone made along the way, including Tohru and Akito. Tohru has gotten it to this point, and now Akito just needs to bring it to a close and finally end things. At the very beggining, before this all started, all the cat wanted was for the God was to move forward and live as a person among the humans, and, finally, a long time later that wish was granted. The tale of the zodiac gets its happy ending not by a villain being defeated, but by the power of friendship and solidarity between women.

#fruits basket #akito sohma #tohru honda #fruits basket spoilers #meta

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poesparakeet-fics · 3 years

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Second part done! Read on AO3 or here! SFW!

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Caduceus Clay & The Mighty Nein, Caduceus Clay & Jester Lavorre, Caduceus Clay & Mollymauk Tealeaf, Caduceus Clay & Yasha, Caduceus Clay & Caleb Widogast, Caduceus Clay & Beauregard Lionett Characters: Caduceus Clay, Jester Lavorre, Mollymauk Tealeaf, Yasha (Critical Role), Nott | Veth Brenatto, Caleb Widogast, Beauregard Lionett Additional Tags: Tickling, Revenge, Shrinking, wild magic mishaps, safeword, Teasing Summary:

Caduceus has made a habit of tickling some of his companions, be it as a cheer-up, a settle-down or a playful punishment. When a mishap with some wild magic makes his smaller than his friends, a few decide to get a little revenge.

CHAPTER 2 TEXT

They’d all agreed to wait a few days before going anywhere weird or dangerous, at least until Caduceus was back to normal. Sure, he didn’t fight using his size much, but the dangerously thin firbolg looked so breakable without his formidable height that they agreed to wait it out. After all, it was only a few days.

So naturally, trouble had found them.

They were lucky, really. Nobody was hurt badly, just a few scrapes and bruises. The spellcasters were burnt out, though.

“OK…” Jester said as they breathed a sigh of relief after entering the tower’s front door. “I got one healing word in me. Caduceus, want me to take care of that cut on your head?”

Caduceus reached up to touch it. It was barely a scrape. “Nah, I’m good. Maybe take down some of the bruising on Yasha’s arm?”

Jester did so, and Caduceus started to float upward toward his room. Thanks to the floating he didn’t even notice he was being followed until two sets of feet set down behind him, two bodies suddenly moving to walk with him pressed between them.

He looked up. It wasn’t Beau and Yasha, as he would have expected, Yasha being the only one to share the floor with him. It was Beau and Caleb, both smirking in ways that made his stomach squirm.

“Hey Caleb, did you hear what went on down there?”

“Ja, I think I did, Beauregard.”

“I think Caduceus just dodged a healing spell.”

Panic ripped a gasp out of Caduceus chest. “I did NOT!”

He started to try and break away from them, but Beau caught him around his middle and hugged him tight from behind. She lifted him off the ground easily, his feet kicking the air while Caleb stared him down.

“Jester offered you healing and you refused, Herr Clay. These are your rules. We have a zero tolerance policy, you see.”

Caduceus squirmed in Beau’s grasp. “It’s not the same –”

“Um, actually…” Beau cut him off, starting to walk them toward his room, “I’d like to refer you back to a previous instance of you counting Caleb’s ribs two months ago, where you involved Mollymauk for the first time. I believe it was the seventh instance of this punishment being meted out. In that instance, there were limited healing spells left and Caleb’s injury was superficial, but you cited the zero tolerance policy.”

“Ungh!” Caduceus grunted, trying to tug himself free of two arms as strong as ship cable, “You two are–”

“–Going to find out how many ribs a firbolg has?” Caleb teased over a very frightening little smirk that broke into a grin when his eyes flicked over Caduceus’ shoulder. “Veth the brave! I could use your assistance!”

When Beau turned to look he caught sight of Veth floating at the centre of the tower, her arms crossed and an amused look on her face. Her eyes met Caduceus’ gaze for a second.

“Nah. You guys have fun.”

Beau jostled Caduceus as she addressed Caleb. “Don’t worry you skinny shit, I’ll hold him down for you so you can get a little payback.”

“Noo…” Caduceus whimpered, the futility of the situation growing ever clearer. Caleb and Beau ignored him, talking to each other over his head instead as they entered his bedroom.

“Hey, has he ever done that thing where he tickles you until you say nice things about yourself?”

“Ugh. Ja.”

“So what’s he gotta say?” Beau climbed onto the bed with Caduceus still in her arms, keeping his back to her front.

“Hmm. We could make him say something mean, but that does not quite fit….”

“Nah.” Beau started to wrestle with Caduceus arms, fighting to get them up over his head. “How about just ‘I deserve this’ over and over until we’re satisfied?”

Caduceus fought her, whimpering, but her hands were as quick as sparrows and it was barely a moment before she had his wrists gripped tight. He tried to twist and get his feet under him on the bed, but Caleb grabbed his ankles and tripped his feet out as he perched on the side.

“Ja, that works for me.” Caleb shoved Caduceus’ shirt up, tucking it behind his head to keep it out of the way.

“No no no!” Caduceus wheezed as he saw his wizard friend and frequent victim smiling like a cat who caught the canary and floating his hands in a move that was clearly meant to rile him. It worked.

“Ah, you can take it, I’m sure.” the wizard answered, meeting his eyes with a wicked glitter in his gaze, “I mean, you could safeword, but I don’t think you will. Not when you know you deserve this.”

Caduceus choked a little at the reference to his very first time counting Caleb’s ribs, a whine building in the back of his throat as the man’s hands drifted closer. Oh, he was in for it . It might be easier just to cast gentle repose on himself now— Jester wouldn’t be able to bring him back until the morning.

“Alright, so we start with number one, ja?”

Caleb’s ink-stained fingertips found Caduceus’ lowest rib, flatter and broader than a human’s. The firbolg bit his lip and whimpered as first they only grazed the downy hair there before starting to pinch along the length.

“Eeheek!” Caduceus squeaked, his heels drumming on the soft bedspread as giggles poured out..

“There, just like the first time.” Caleb teased over a tight-lipped smile. “Although, actually…” Caleb’s fingers started to attack him on one side, and then the other, switching back and forth to make him writhe. “That first time, you did it one side at a time, didn’t you? So, do you deserve this, Herr Clay?”

“Noho! I- I caught you ahaha– with aha broken rib thahahat first time!”

“He what ?!” Came a growl from over Caduceus’ shoulder.

“Ah– nothing. Moving on. Two!” Caleb’s hands jumped up one rib, drawing a satisfying squeal from their captive. “Now, the second time was still just you, but a little more like… this.”

Caleb ducked down to nuzzle his nose and cheek across Caduceus’ lower rib cage. The gentle pressure and rough hair along his cheek nearly made Caduceus jump out of his skin. His back arched, his body driven back into Beau’s embrace for lack of a better place to go.

“Aha— AHAha— Ohoho, OHo OK! I deserve it! I deserve it!”

Caleb stopped nuzzling but put his fingers back to work immediately. “Wunderbar! Three.”

“Nohoho! I deserve it! Aahaa! Please!”

Caleb ignored him. “The third time… that was Veth and her feather, wasn’t it?”

Caleb pulled away to dig around his coat, and Caduceus got a precious moment to breath. He slumped against Beau and tried his best to unscramble himself.

“Got it!” Said Caleb.

Caduceus’ eyes shot open to see the wizard twirling a quill in his hand.

“Eep! Wait! I deserve it, I deserve it, I deserve it! ”

Caleb flicked the soft fronds of the feather across one rib, then another. “It’s good that you can admit that now. So here is three, and there is four… I’m sure you have more ribs than I have vengeance, right, Herr Clay?”

Cad was too breathless to answer, slumped against Beau in a frenzy of chirping giggles that pitched upward when Caleb jumped another rib. The feather was surprisingly maddening after the rough scrape of stubble.

“Five!” Caleb cheered, “so the next time would have been Yasha…”

“NO! Nononono! Pleeheeheehease!” Caduceus didn’t bother telling them he deserved it this time, that clearly wasn’t getting him anywhere.

Caleb chuckled, exchanging a devilish wink with Beauregard over Cad’s shoulder before leaning in to nip at the side of Caduceus’ ribcage.

His reaction was more scream than laughter. Oh, the teeth were bad . The biting had all the same staticy mix of sensations that the nuzzles did with the added maddening little scrape of teeth. His breathing was hitched, his legs were kicking desperately against the bedspread. By the time Caleb let up there were tears in his eyes.

Caleb let him catch his breath and watched him with a little softness.

“While we are not nearly even for what you have put me through, I do feel a little bad. You’re nearly done, eh? How about this: We’ll skip to Mollymauk–”

“NO!” Caduceus yelped, still breathless.

“Hey, hey, calm down. I only want one. You made me use my safeword over a black eye, Herr Clay. You deserve much more, but if I get one, we may call it even.”

Caduceus’ whole body was rigid, and he groaned from behind clenched teeth. “Even? Blank slate?”

Caleb chuckled at the answer. “Ja. Blank slate. Until you decide to torture me again.”

“Well that’s up to you, man.” Caduceus growled, shutting his eyes tight and clenching his teeth. “OK. Do it.”

“Ja?” Caleb asked with a renewed smile.

“Yes!”

“You’re ready?”

“Cale–”

Pbbbbbt!

That sound again, this time mostly drowned out by a bleating shriek as Caduceus jerked like he was hit by lightning. The single raspberry felt like it went on forever, a rare credit to Caleb’s lung capacity.

When Caleb pulled back he was chuckling, partly out of delight for his vengeance and partly out of mirth at Caduceus’ reaction, now starting to fade into a collection of leftover giggles, sniffles and hiccups. Beau let go of his arms and hugged him to let him lean against her and catch his breath.

“The next *hic* time you beg for *hic* mercy…”

“You’ll take it very easy on me. We are even, remember? No vengeance allowed.”

Shit . Caduceus winced. He hadn’t processed what he was agreeing to, something the wizard had undoubtedly been hoping for.

“You know, I think this erases your escalations, too.” Beau added from over his shoulder. “Blank slate, right?”

Caleb brightened considerably. “Ja! A blank slate. Starting from the beginning.”

Caduceus growled, crossing his arms and trying to look annoyed while still hiccuping. Beau crawled out from behind him, and they both rose to their feet. Caleb planted a kiss on top of his head.

“Goodnight, Herr Clay.”

…..

He was big again before long. It happened when he was sleeping, and the next morning he’d made a pot of tea by the time he realized he no longer needed two hands to pour. The epiphany made him spring up straight, a smile on his face. He felt like himself again.

It was Veth who trundled into the kitchen first.

“Good morning!” Caduceus greeted her.

“Oh! I see you’re back. Are you happy to be big again?”

“Well, it’s a little more.. Me.”

“Yes, I think it is,” her eyes glittered at him, “now you’ll be safe from the others.”

“Heh.” Caduceus nodded, “I think everyone who wanted revenge got it by now. But I am glad to be a little harder to pin down. Thank you for not helping them.”

He turned toward the sink with his mug, and Veth was suddenly hanging off his back with her feet braced on his belt.

“We both know I don’t need you to be small to get you, do I Mr. Clay?” She whispered in his ear.

Caduceus barely got one large hand over his own mouth before one of Veth’s small ones was plunged down the back of his shirt collar. Her arm disappeared there, fingers scrabbling at the skin between his shoulder blades. He squawked into his hand, legs collapsing and spine twisting. He ended up on his knees, trying desperately to shake her off as she moved with him like a rucksack, as slippery as an itch he couldn’t reach to scratch.

“Ok! Ahaa! Ok! Veth, please!” He wheezed around his hand.

She did stop, hopping off his back with a little smirk. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna keep that secret and hold over you for a while yet.”

“Wonderful.” Caduceus groaned from his position curled up in a ball on the floor.

“Just don’t get cocky and I’ll never have a reason to TAKE YOU DOWN!”

“Alright, alright.” He sighed as he stood up. “Deal. Mercy. And don’t worry, Caleb already negotiated a pretty generous immunity offer for himself.”

Veth snorted. “Please. Do that as much as you want. Just don’t. Get. Cocky.”

“Ok, Veth.”

#critickle role #caduceus clay #tickle fic #tk fic #caleb widogast #beauregard lionett #veth bernatto #tickling #ticklish #rib tickling

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razberry-jam · 4 years

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Also!!! Idk if this would help people here??? But I’ve noticed a lot of people having discourse on whether Techno is meant to be interpreted, on a narrative level, if he is in the right or in the wrong!

I just wanted to share, as someone with a big nerd feelings about storytelling, plot structure, etc- that not every narrative is about showing characters who are in the right, react appropriately, have correct beliefs etc. Most aren’t, actually!

This is a strange trend I’ve noticed recently!!! I think it’s because a lot of us grew up idolizing fictional characters that we shouldn't have, and so who actually turned out to be assholes?? So I think people have somehow got it stuck in their heads that the main purpose of a character, or a story, is to be a role model, to be an example, send a message etc etc!

A side effect of storytelling is that we draw meaning- a “message” or a “theme” from it. Which is hella cool!! But it’s not what storytelling IS. Storytelling is the process by which you explain the change of state of one thing to another. Saying “The ballon was floating. Then I popped it.” Is a story! Saying “The ballon was a good person. Good things will happen to it.” Is not necessarily, because the ballon is not changing on any fundamental level. Even saying “bad things will happen to it” is not a story, because the ballon is still remaining exactly the same. (more underneath)

A story MIGHT say both. “A boy say a drowning cat. The boy saved the cat. The town threw him a party to thank him!” Is a story. It can be interpreted to send the message, “this boy is good, and because of that good things happen to him. Maybe we should be good too!” But even without the interpretation, the story still stands.

Because the story does not require a message to be itself, storytelling doesn’t require messages. So the main point of stories can’t be sending messages if they don't require them. A story DOES require that a thing change from one state to another. So, if that’s true, describing change is the point of storytelling.

It’s sort of like painting. A painting IS paint on canvas. Gogh’s Starry Night is paint on canvas, arranged to look like a night sky. People can pull different interpretations of it- but a good artist rarely goes in with their message fully formed in their mind. An artist represents something else, and by doing so, a message will often come out subconsciously through the artists’s subject combined with their own (often conflicting) beliefs, feelings, and desires.

How do most authors decide to induce change? They use conflict! Conflict: to be incompatible or at variance. Conflict, by its nature, creates change because incompatible things can’t share the same space. These two things will continue to push and fight against each other until they find a place where both of them can come to a rest. Think water and oil! Or a cat and a mouse.

This is something that is fairly often brought up in English classes! If you’ve listen to some of Technoblade’s early streams, he even brings it up during his first two Pogtopia streams!! He mentions that he’s a little worried because everyone on the server is “too nice” so there's “not enough conflict.” He’s not saying that cause he doesn’t want people to be nice- he’s saying that because when someone is not pushing against you, its harder to know what to do. You ever done improv? It’s much easier to improv a funny argument than to improv two people who are completely on the same page in every way.

So! Taking the dream smp for example cause thats where we’re at!

I saw some people were a bit upset that Techno said he was glad Tommy died. Yeah, not a nice thing to say about c!Tommy!! BUT cc!Techno choosing to say that is a wonderful thing to do for cc!Tommy!! Why? It creates conflict.

If Technoblade had a “good” opinion on Tommy’s death, there would not be sufficient conflict between them, which essentially means there is no story left to tell there. That’s not good for cc!Techno or cc!Tommy.

IF Technoblade had a “neutral” opinion on Tommy’s death (as he initially tried to have) there's still technically not a conflict there. A neutral opinion is still neutral- it does not force Techno to actually confront his mixed feelings about Tommy, or Tommy to come to a bigger awareness of those feelings, either on his or Techno’s side.

A “bad” opinion on Tommy’s death IS the most conflict inducing choice we have here. Though small, in this moment it immediately brings him into conflict with both Ranboo and Phil (Phil!!! Which is hella interesting!!).

A “bad” opinion also continues to heighten the conflict between Tommy and Techno, which again, is a good thing. If Techno had openly admitted he was sad that Tommy was dead, then there isn’t really anything new for us to learn about Techno or Tommy when Tommy comes back. It is redundant- which is something you wanna HELLA avoid in storytelling.

As well as brings Techno into conflict with himself! I’m of the opinion that, while Techno believes what he said, it is not necessarily true. We can see both from Phil’s reaction “I swear he has a heart guys.” We can see this in how he talks about other people we know he cares deeply about ie my “acquaintance” Ranboo who he was willing to murder someone over. And we see this even in his brief interactions with Tommy- when Tommy came over before seeing Dream to steal out of Techno’s chests, Techno was upset, but also incredibly lenient. Which you know, is coming from a guy who hoards things religiously, towards someone whose guts he’s supposed to hate. Techno’s inability to properly regulate his attachments- keeping a cold facade while bouncing between incredibly polarizing apathy or absolute ride-and-die devotion, is literally one of Techno’s most reoccurring struggles and character flaws. A character flaw, which if Techno did not have, he would cease to be a character with any sort of dynamic struggle within him.

And finally it brings the audience into conflict with Techno, which is actually a good thing. We loose interest in characters we completely understand, and we loose interest in characters when we know exactly the direction they are going in. People who are saying “How could Techno say that when early he’d said he’d have given the world for Tommy??” Is EXACTLY the question the writers want you to be asking.

Anyway !! To sum up!!! For technoblade, as a writer (not a character!! as a writer!!) his main concern is not portraying a character who is in the right, has the correct beliefs, or is justified in his actions. I’d argue its also NOT portraying a character who is in the wrong, has wrong beliefs, or is completely unjust.His main goal is portraying an interesting character. Through which cc!Techno’s main tool is almost always conflict!

The narrative’s goal is usually not to portray good people, or to punish people for what they deserve. It’s main purpose is not to teach us what’s right and wrong (though that is an incredibly interesting side of effect of some stories!) The main goal of most stories is to be interesting, create conflict, and explore hypothetical scenarios.

(Which, if you notice- is true of a lot of the CCs who come from a storytelling background! IE Wilbur, Tommy, etc).

I mean, the dude’s into Greek mythology. Greek mythology is like the absolute king of “maybe heroic but mostly asshole” main characters lol.

Anyway!! That got a bit long! But that’s the idea : ) of course, anyone’s welcome to interpret or enjoy the story in anyway they like! And feelings are feelings. But the fandom idea that a character’s purpose is to be a role model misses the point (and often, a lot of the enjoyment) of writing.

#tommy and technoblade both having mixed feelings towards eachother and hurting each others feelings #is a FEATURE not a BUG #as is Technoblade having the emotional intelligence and self awareness of a bag of rocks #conflict is a feature not a bug y'all!!!!!#true fluff can only exist where conflict has been bred #like you don't see anyone writing any fluff of like teletubbies cause the teletubbies have never had any sort of tension between them #that would make the fact that they actually care for eachother on a deep emotional level #actually rewarding #ok im going outside #dream smp #dsmp #technoblade #tommy dream smp #tommyinnit #me pointing at them but i love them youre honor love to see them get along some day #technos dynamic with tommy is a variation of jacks but a instead of 1000% over the top cartoonish its like 500% over the top cartoonish #and a slightly different flavor #c!tommy #c!techno #cc!tommy #cc!techno #writing #story #dream smp tommy #dream smp techno #im sorry this is big got hyper fixation #anyway hope that ends well lmao

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iliumheightnights · 4 years

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We Have A Jedi [12] | Peter Parker x Male!Reader

Fandom: Marvel and Star Wars

Pairing: Tony Stark x Son!Reader, Peter Parker x Male!Reader

Summary: (M/N) is officially back on earth, so is Sheyo. With the two stranded and the war still raging on, what comes next?

Read from the beginning

…

(M/N) opened his eyes and was confused why he didn’t hear the hum of ship engines. Sitting up he realized he wasn’t in his quarters on the ship, he was in his room on earth. He could tell by how the sun was starting to raise over the city that he had woken up pretty early. Perhaps he was still adjusted to waking up for the next campaign. He stood up and walked over to the closet, inside he found some clothes that could fit him. Once he was dressed he wandered out to the living room.

The quietness of the area told him that no one was up yet. Moving to the kitchen he looked around. Last time he was on earth he was taught a couple of things for cooking. He got to work making something for everybody to eat as they got up. He had got some of the food done by the time someone entered the kitchen. “Do I smell food?” (M/N) smiled and turned to face his intruder. “Hey Steve. I’m making breakfast, grab a plate. most of it is done.” Steve smirked and did so before sitting at the table. “I gotta say, I half expected to wake up and realize last night was a dream. But you’re here...actually here.” He looked at his plate and back to (M/N). “Where have you been kid?”

(M/N) finished his cooking and set everything aside. “I didn’t want to leave. I wanted more time here, with you guys...with dad. But there’s still a war going on and mom wanted to make sure that we realized that.” (M/N) shrugged his shoulders. “I guess she was right though. Once we got back into the fight I realized there were still so many people that needed our help. I couldn’t just stay here or come back...even if I tried at first.” (M/N) had a far away look in his eyes and Steve noticed, the younger book shook his head quickly though. “Anyways that’s the past. I’m here now...I just hope for longer.” Steve nodded his head. “Well I’m glad to have you back, I know everyone else...especially your dad is too.”

Grabbing a plate for himself, (M/N) joined Steve at the table. “So...anything interesting happen when I was gone?” Steve smirked at him. “You’ve missed a lot. Turns out there were lots of hidden Hydra agents in Shield and that was an ordeal. Also...Bucky’s alive.” (M/N) raised a brow at that. Steve had told him of his time in the war, and his best friend Bucky...but that he died. Apparently that wasn’t the case. “How?” Steve sat his fork down, no longer interested in the food. “Hydra.” (M/N) nodded and gave him a small smile. “I’m sorry Steve. We’ll get him back.” Steve genuinely smiled and with that his appetite seemed to return. “Anyways, what have YOU been doing Mr.I’ve lead armies in war?” (M/N) blushed and looked away as Steve made fun of what he last said to them. “Shut up. I’ve just been doing what I’ve always done...fighting in a seemingly endless battle. But I HAVE been learning different art and stuff from different planets.” Steve seemed to be really interested with that. “Art like drawing and painting?” The boy nodded at him. “Yeah, plus pottery, music, theater. All of that. There’s a lot out there.”

Steve was about to say something when we were joined by some others. “(M/N)!” He didn’t have a chance to say anything before Clint pulled him into a tight hug. “Welcome back kiddo. Oh hey breakfast.” Clint let him go and went to get a plate. Natasha took the chance to rub his head and mess up his head. “Welcome back kid.” She also grabbed a plate and the two of them sat down. Just like Steve had asked before, he told them about what he had been up to. It wasn’t long before Tony and Bruce arrived, his dad sitting next to him. (M/N) noticed how his dad was grinning, almost like he thought it might have been a dream. They had told him that Thor had returned to Asgard for a bit but that he should be back soonish. The group were all enjoying their breakfast and talking when (M/N) heard the sound of a crutch. “Oh hey, there’s a group of people now.” (M/N) turned and smiled at Sheyo who looked a lot better than she had the night before. The avengers were looking at her with mixed emotions, who was she and why was she here...also why was she green.

Quickly standing from his seat (M/N) pulled out his chair offering it to Sheyo who gratefully took it. “How did you sleep? You feeling better?” Sheyo smiled at him. “Very much so. I think I should be fine soon hopefully. Now, are you going to introduce me to everyone?” (M/N) nodded and looked around. “Sheyo these are the Avengers. Steve, Clint, Natasha, you already met Bruce, and...my father. Tony Stark.” Sheyo grinned as she looked from me to Tony, soon she lifted her hand out to him. “Nice to meet you Mr.Stark.” It was obvious that everyone was still confused so (M/N) helped explain everything with Sheyo filling in any gaps. It was very similar to how (M/N) was questioned after the battle of New York.

The conversations were dying down and breakfast was coming to an end. (M/N) was enjoying the time he was spending with his family again, this time with his best friend. As everyone broke from the table Sheyo leaned over to him. “(M/N) a word?” He gave her a nod and excused himself from the rest. He took Sheyo to his room and closed the door. “What’s up?” She sat down on his bed and looked around before looking back at him. “So my leg’s out of commission for at least a couple days, but what are we going to do after that? We can’t stay here forever, you know that.”

(M/N) nodded. “I know. I would stay forever if I could but we can’t. The war is still going on and we have to get back. The first problem we’ll have is to find a way off planet. We’ll need a ship with a hyperdrive to get us back. Plus, we have another problem.” (M/N) took out the two infinity stones he has. “We have these to worry about. We can’t keep them together, it makes them a bigger target. We have to separate them.” Sheyo nodded. “So what’s the plan?” (M/N) laid the stones on his desk. “When Thor get’s here I’ll give him the space stone. Let him take it back to Asgard, it should be safe here. The mind stone, I’ll give to my dad. He and the avengers are the best the earth has. They’ll keep it safe.” He looked to Sheyo who only smiled at him. “Sounds like a good plan. Alright. Guess we get to take a little vacation for a bit.” (M/N) put away the stones into a hidden place and grabbed his sabers. “Come on. You may not be able to train, but I want you to at least give me pointers.” She let out a groan then grabbed her crutch and began following him to the training area.

The tower had changed a lot since the last time he came and the training room was no exception. It was now an ACTUAL training room and not just a boxing ring. “Sir. Your father designed a training program for each of the avengers, including you.” Jarvis spoke up. That made (M/N) surprised. He didn’t think his father would have taken his combat teaching into consideration. “Really?” Jarvis’ voice spoke again. “Yes sir. He studied the videos of you fighting during the battle of new york and based the training for you on them.” He smiled at that, his father really did take care in making sure he was included. “Thanks J. Can you start the training?” Sheyo moved to the side and Jarvis began the training exercise. “Starting simulation.”

The simulation room started to hum and the lights dimmed. A holographic image of a Chituari appeared and it began firing at (M/N). He quickly ignited his lightsabers and began deflecting the bolts back on to the oncoming waves. As the waves of holo enemies came towards him, he switched from defense to attack. He slashed through the oncoming waves, as he was doing it he realized that he had improved during his time gone. Perhaps he’d have to talk to his dad about other fighting stances and techniques to help improve the simulation.

While (M/N) was in the simulation, the door to the viewing room opened and Tony, Steve and Clint walked in. “Heard little Stark war doing the simulation, wanted to see his moves.” Clint said. Sheyo smirked at them and nodded to the simulation. “This is easy for him compared to other things.” They all watched as he did a flip with a landing slash on an enemy. “He’s improved a lot since last time.” Steve noted. “That’s my boy. Takes after his father.” Steve laughed. “I’d say he takes after his mother.” Sheyo raised her brow. She was going to find out who his mother was. Tony scoffed and turned back to watching his son.

Steve turned to Sheyo. “So Sheyo. Since you’re a jedi do you do what he does?” He nodded towards (M/N) and she smiles and nods. “You mean being part of a galactic war? Yep. My master’s Dia. His is Janai. I’m sure you know that bit though. Like we said earlier, we were on a mission when we ended up here.” Sheyo looked at Tony, studying him. “You know. He looks like you a lot. We, Jedi, aren’t supposed to know our parents or form attachments. I don’t believe in that. I think it’s a stupid rule...but you should know there’s still a war going on. If he stays here...they’ll come after him. The Jedi. It won’t be pretty. He might have to leave but that doesn’t mean he wants to. I can see he loves you a lot.” Tony smiled sadly at her and nodded. “I know. When he first left I was angry at everyone, myself, his mom, but never at him. I knew he still had a job to do. When it’s time for him to leave again, I just hope he says goodbye this time.”

The simulation ended and (M/N) exited the room. “Oh, hey guys. Were you all watching me practice?” They all nodded. He turned to Sheyo. “Just like the temple training room.” She laughed at that. Clint lightly punched his shoulder. “Well kid. You definitely put on a show.” (M/N) smirked at looked at Tony. “What can I say I take after my dad.” Tony laughed and pointed at Steve. “I told you! Now…” He wrapped his arm around (M/N)’s shoulder. “Let’s figure out what we’re doing today.”

A/N: I realized I haven’t shown you what Sheyo looks like so here she is!

#marvel #avengers #peter parker #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #Peter parker x stark reader #peter parker x stark!reader #tony stark #tony stark x male reader #tony stark x male!reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x son reader #tony stark x son!reader #tony stark x stark reader #tony stark x stark!reader

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lilsocksiswriting · 4 years

Text

Soft Ropes

Fandom: Haikyuu

Paring: Bokuto X Fem!reader

Summary: who knew Bokuto could be so soft when he has you all tied up.

Warnings: NSFW, no beta, minors DNI

Tags: Shibari, daddy kink, dom!Bokuto

Word Count: 1045

You’ve always been into BDSM but since your last ex, you haven’t been so open about it to your new partner Bokuto. That ex was a bad dom. His aftercare was shit and when you safe worded he would get annoyed with you. The one before that wasn’t much better. To put it simply, that man was all bark but no bite.

But Bokuto was a fantastic dom. You just didn't know it until he asks you if he could bring ropes in the bedroom. Up until then sex with Bo wasn't as vanilla as one would think it would be with someone as energetic and light-hearted as Bokuto. More than once has he had you on your knees and elbows with a firm hand pushing the back up your neck down as he pumps his dick into you.

Just the suggestion alone has you squeezing your thighs together, but at the same time, he can see the hesitation all over your face. The way that your body seems conflicted on how to react is what leads to you telling Bokuto about your exes. After listening to you he promises you that he will never be that bad of a dom.

And he isn’t. You two literally spend a whole evening talking over dinner at your place. He asks you about a good safe word, if there is anything in particular that he needs to do if you safe word, what kind of rope you like, what knots you’re comfortable with. He’s so detailed about everything even to the point of taking down notes. The sight of Bokuto scribbling things down on a tiny legal pad you had laying around melted your heart because it showed he really cared about you and not just the scene.

When the night comes ,where neither of you had to be up for work the next day, you find yourself setting up on your knees near the edge of the bed, bare, with your hands in your lap. There’s isn't a hint of hesitation in your face anymore because you trust Bokuto completely. Said man stands over you with a soft smile pulling at the ropes wrapped around his hand.

“What’s our safe word, Baby girl?”

“Tulip.”, you answer him

“Good girl.”

Bokuto takes his time making sure that every knot looks perfect on you and feels perfect for you. As he warps the ropes around your body he can't help but to grope your body drawing out whines and whimpers from you. You arch into his touch whenever Bokuto runs his fingers along your skin.

“Shhh,” a finger to your lips silences you, “You need to be a good girl for Daddy and that means no wining or squirming, ok?”

“Ok, Daddy.”

"That’s my good girl.”, and the way his voice is so low and soft as he tells you how pretty you look in ropes makes you so wet and needy. It takes so much not to squirm under his golden gaze.

Once you're all tied up and comfortable Bokuto runs his fingers down to your stomach dipping them between your leg.

“Fuck Baby girl you’re so wet for me.", he smiles licking your slick from his fingers.

“Daddy, please,” your voice trembles, “Need you to touch me. Please do something. So wet for you.”

And how can he say no when you’re looking at him like that? Face flushed, mouth slightly opening taking in one breath after another, and your eyes getting blurry with actual tears. Bokuto settles himself between your thighs. Then his mouth latches onto your clit and he has 0 table manners as he eats you out. Not the least not worried about the mess he's making. In fact, he loves the way your juices stream down his chin.

He doesn’t come up until you’ve cummed from his mouth a few times and Bokuto’s deemed you nice and stretched out with his fingers. Hovering above you he’s testing your ropes making sure your still ok or if you needed some water. When you give him the ok to continue he leans down to kiss you deeply. He wants you to be able to taste yourself as he fucks you.

And holy shit does this man know how to use that thick cock of his. He doesn’t just split you open but he fucks you so good and deep that Bokuto has you seeing stars. You can’t keep your mouth closed with the constant moans and praise about how good Bokuto and his cock is making you feel. You don’t even register that you’ve started drooling

When your orgasm hits it’s over whelming and long. Or maybe not. You can't be for sure. Your sense of time was out the window. All you can think about was the pleasure of coursing through your body as you cream around Bokuto’s cock. The way your walls squeeze around his dick pushes Bokuto over the edge. He uses those pretty ropes tied around your pretty thighs to pull you close as he buries his cock balls deep and lets you milk him dry.

“Th-that’s Baby girl. Take all of Daddy’s cum.”

When both of you catch your breath, Bokuto carefully pulls himself out of you. He can’t stop from smiling fondly and stroking the inside of your thigh as he watches the mix of his cum and your juices leak out of your spent pussy.

Then comes the immaculate aftercare. Bokuto carefully unties you kissing any place that had the slightest rope burn. He wraps you up in blanket and pulls you into his lap. He feeds you pieces of fruit and makes sure you rehydrate before letting you rest a bit while he runs you a warm bath.

“Take your time and relax ok. I’m going to change the sheets and order dinner.”, Bokuto tells you before kissing your forehead and leaving you to relax in the bath.

After you get all cleaned up you go about the rest of your nightly routine and Bokuto hops in the showers to wash off the smell of sweat and sex. You get changed into one of Bokuto’s old sweatshirts while Bokuto slips into a pair of sweats. You two end tonight cuddled up in bed with take out.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #bokuto imagine #Kotaro Bokuto #bokuto #privet stacks

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realityhelixcreates · 3 years

Text

Lasabrjotr Chapter 79: The Rites of Blood and Knowledge

Chapters: 79/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: pg 13(Blood)

Relationships: Loki x Reader

Characters: Loki (Marvel),Thor(Marvel) Wanda Maximoff, vision, Bruce Banner

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Party Time, In Reference To Blood Mixing Mentioned In The Eddas

Summary: The great ceremonies begin.

The dreams were powerful that night, whisking you off to far away places, off to the increasingly familiar form of the gargantuan space artist. There was a strange nostalgia out here that you were slowly coming to recognize as being not your own. How could it be? You had never physically been here, only visited in dreams.

With green and blue sparkling at your right and left, you drifted along in their orbit, yet another asteroid in a primordial star system.

First Wielder.

The concept filtered through your mind, trailing a warm and wistful longing behind it.

Peace. Eternity. Creation.

Before battle. Before separation. Before imprisonment.

Before all.

The star system was strange: every time you came here, the sun was a little different. A variable star, its brightness oscillating, it was still young and new.

There was only one planet in this system, located fairly close to the star. The presence of the colossal giant perturbed the asteroids and gas around the star, but their great mass prevented them from coalescing.

Comets formed in great numbers from the gas and ice beyond them, whizzing past them, inspiring new drawings. Asteroids clumped up against them; a brush of their great hand sent them flying, to collide into one another, to spin away from their unstable orbit, and join the comets on their cross-system journey, to crash into the singular planet.

The colossus watched with the patience of true immortality, as the planet burned and erupted, filled up with water, and clouds, and sky.

Thoughtfully, they regarded an asteroid they held in one hand, then, with their color-stained fingers, they began to draw.

The wistfulness and regret reached their peak, and you woke up in the empty bathtub, with a thought ringing in your head.

The Wielders always came to a bad end.

******

Loki was somewhat disgruntled to discover that you'd been having these dreams without him. He didn't scold, but his concern was clear. You described them in as much detail as you could, but, to your dismay, he didn't have any explanation for what you'd been seeing while you slept.

It would just have to remain a mystery. The upcoming day was going to be far too busy to dwell on it.

Both you and Loki had dressed in your absolute finest, your armor polished bright, your skirt covered in embroidery, your chest and neck festooned in beads of carved gold and pearl. You still felt a little bit like you were so buried in finery that you became invisible, but you tried to carry it with pride. All of this had been put together especially for you, and that hard work deserved to be shown off.

Loki was so magnificent in his fur-trimmed cloak, and elaborate helmet, you had to firmly tell yourself not to spend the whole day just staring at him all moon-eyed.

Maybe just a few hours.

Today, the Second Feast, was really the main event, as far as this Buridag was concerned. At noon, you would participate in the Blood Taking ceremony, wherin you would 'mingle blood' with the royal brothers, in order to be formally adopted into Asgardian high society. This would cement your status as high enough to advise Loki as one of the most important members of his personal entourage. And before the evening feast, you would perform the ritual that would confirm you as an official Seidkona.

But before that, you would have the time to run around and enjoy the festival.

It was set up like a combination job fair and reenactment fest. Stalls lined the streets and filled courtyards, peopled by the crafters of Asgard. Smiths, armorers, and carpenters, goldsmiths, lapidaries, scrimshanders, and glassblowers. Weavers, spinners, leatherworkers, and dyemakers, artists, musicians, chefs, academics, mages, stonemasons, construction workers, scribes, dancers, and cheesemongers. All the sights, and sounds, and scents, and flavors that made up Asgard were being demonstrated and celebrated.

Your Father and Tara joined you in the streets, and Loki reluctantly released you into their care, having some preparation left to do.

Tara, flouncing around in an apron dress and domed brooches very much like your usual style, gushed over how beautiful you looked, and your father, rather sheepishly dressed in an Asgardian greatcoat and cowl, agreed openly.

“You look like a princess.” he said. “A real one. You...You walk different now. Talk different. You look so strong.”

“Is it me, or are all these people following us?” Tara asked, not very quietly. A few chagrined people in the crowd that flowed in your wake down the street peeled away, and wandered in different directions. The rest either had less shame, or had orders to keep watch over you.

You spared the group a glance. There appeared to be a solid mix of Asgardians and humans, several of which had their phones out. You surmised there would be a new wave of photos of you on the internet over the next few days.

“Keep your cowl up dad.” You advised.

“Want me to run them off?” he offered.

“Nah. I don't really mind if they take pictures of me. Can't really hurt anything.”

“Wasn't so great last time.” Tara pointed out. “I spent a lot of time stanning for you.”

“Well, last time was sensationalized bullcrap. This time is a nice festival. I mean, check out that guy!”

That Guy was a glassblower in his stall, spinning a huge, bubble thin amphora of rose pink glass. You had seen its like before, but never seen one made.

“Oh, they age crystal mead in those! The pink lets in the right wavelengths of light that give it it's shimmering quality.”

“What's crystal mead?” your father asked.

“Don't try more than a few sips, if anyone offers.” you warned. “Asgardians have iron guts. Their booze is way too strong.”

“Yeah, they warned us about that on the plane.” Tara said. “And yesterday, it looked like they had everything divided up by species, so no one got the wrong thing.”

You took them around to various demonstrations: spinners spinning yarn, brewers preparing several of Asgards many alcoholic beverages, apothecaries showing how basic medicines were made, a cobbler putting together a nice pair of boots.

“So, Asgard's really advanced, right?” Tara asked. “Why is everything like Ye Olden Times?”

“Asgard's never had that big a population, even at it height. There just isn't that much demand for mass production. Most things are bespoke, or self-made. Quality depends entirely on the maker, so that, of course, becomes a competition. And that, in turn, becomes a matter of cultural pride. Also, they have thousands of years to get good at what they do, so Asgardian made goods are super high quality, and they judge personal worth by that. I don't think they'll ever automate; it would go against a lot of what they stand for.”

You snagged the three of you a traditional Asgardian snack; fat sausages, wrapped in savory pastry. You thought it might be good to have something else in your stomach before the first ceremony.

Tara called them Asgardian corn dogs, which you couldn't wait to share with Loki, if only to watch his nose wrinkle with disdain over the undignified term.

“So when do we have to let you go?” Tara asked.

You checked your phone for the time, stuffing the last of your sausage into your mouth.

“Eh, I've got a few minutes left. Better start heading over though.”

Your winding path through the courtyards took you past minstrels, impromptu dances, and games, to a large, tall dais that had been put together as a temporary mirror to the throne room. It towered over the City Hall courtyard like a ziggurat. You'd be up there soon enough, but currently...

“Who's that?” your father asked, pointing at a man standing at the top. “Doesn't look like Thor.”

You squinted up at the figure, his bright armor shining in the rarefied sunlight.

“Ah, That's Heimdall. He's the Guardian of Asgard, and god of...uh, sight? I think? Vigilance? It's not quite that neat and simple, you know? The whole 'God Of' thing is a bit more complicated than that.”

“So that's a god?” your father asked. “How can you tell? Are they all gods? What does that even mean?”

“All good questions. Mostly because they are very hard to answer.”

Your father and Tara jerked at the sudden new voice, and, not for the first time, you found yourself amazed at how easily a man of the sheer size and importance as the king of Asgard could sneak up on people.

“Your Majesty.” you said calmly, inclining your head. Your father and Tara dipped into awkward bows, a little awed by the mythical figure before them. Thor didn't necessarily demand obeisance, but he didn't exactly discourage it either; he let people act as they felt appropriate.

“Not every Asgardian is a god.” Thor explained. “Those that are go by the term 'Aesir', a common name through most of the realms for beings of that type. You are born Aesir; you cannot become one by outside influences. However, Aesir nature doesn't always become apparent at birth, it often doesn't manifest until adolescence. As for what it means to be Aesir...that doesn't have so straightforward an answer. I leave it to the philosophers, who, incidentally, are in booth seventy-eight.

Anyway, I have come to collect your daughter for the ceremony. There isn't much time left, so we'd all better get in place. If you go through those two poles there right now, you can get very good seats.”

“This could get a bit weird.” You warned. “It's a ceremony more ancient than any recorded human practices, so it's probably going to seem archaic.”

“Oh, it's not so bad.” Thor said. “It's been updated and refined over all those years. For instance, everyone remains clothed now, and there are at least seventy percent fewer entrails used.”

Your father coughed, and you rolled your eyes. Thor's sense of humor was difficult for you to understand, considering how serious he was about everything. The thing about Thor's jokes was that he might have been joking about something that had really happened, or he might have been joking about something he'd completely made up, but he would never specify which.

“On that note, I've got to go.” you said. “Entrails to sort, and all that.”

Your father coughed again, Tara patting him compassionately on the back.

“Good luck!” she called to your receding back.

******

“Now, you've been fully briefed on what will happen during this ceremony, correct?” Thor asked, as the two of you loitered near the back stairs of the temporary dais. People were filtering in to seats and standing room around the courtyard, waiting for things to start.

“I think so.” you said. “If I've got this right, there's going to be a special dance-”

“The Alignment of the Celestial and Worldly bodies, yes.” Thor said. “It symbolizes everything that must come together to bring the 'adoptee' to the greater 'family'. In this case, it will tell the story of how you came here to join our family.”

A soft warmth crept up your neck, and heated your ears beneath your helmet. You knew it was all socio-symbolism, but the notion of 'joining the family' hit differently now that you were on intimate terms with Loki.

“And then all the braziers will have some kind of incense thrown in, and in the smoke, we'll all go up the stairs like we're magically appearing. Honestly, it sounds like it'll look really cool.”

“All ceremonies contain a bit of theatrics.” Thor agreed. “Perhaps that is the most important part. Or that's the part that makes it important. I wish we still had some of the traditional ceremonial incense, but we just don't have access to the materials anymore. You would have liked it; it was much more floral than most of what you have here. We did manage to get some lavender though. That should be nice.”

“Maybe one day, when the Bifrost is more stable.” You said. It did sound very nice. “Loki said that you, and he, and Heimdall will sing a blessing song?”

“Yes, a divine blessing from a trio of Aesir. It's got to be three. And then...”

“Yeah. And then.” Loki had told you about the bloodletting. He had been very frank about it. “I know. I'm nervous, but not afraid.”

Thor nodded. “Sometimes there are unforeseen effects, but never anything bad. You'll be perfectly safe.”

“I know. The nervousness just comes from knowing it'll hurt. Even if just for a short time.”

You buckled under Thor's hand when it came down on your shoulder, enveloping the whole thing.

“Loki would rather slice out his own guts than draw your blood, trust me. He's been trying to figure out how to get around it for weeks. Unfortunately, the blood is the most important part of the magic. It carries all of the power. It's very old magic: according to him, this is practically the only part of the ritual that has remained unchanged from the beginning.”

“Did there really used to be entrails and naked people, or was that a joke?”

“Ehhh, well, yes and no. This ceremony originated with the Vanir, and they are not opposed to nakedness under certain circumstances. In this case, everyone who attended was expected to leave the clothes they came in at the door, and wear a special loincloth instead. This was actually to prevent violence, by barring hidden weaponry from being brought to ceremony grounds. So rather than pure nudity, everyone was dressed as scantily as was possible.

As for entrails...unfortunately yes, that was also a part of it. A seer would perform a divination using the entrails of a slaughtered animal. That practice was going out of fashion, even before the war, and I don't think anyone today even remembers how it was done.”

You shuddered. Yes, it was a different culture, and a long time ago, but it still grossed you out.

“I'll have to remember to thank Loki for trying to get me out of it, even if he wasn't successful.” You said. He really did put in a lot of effort behind the scenes. If only he were more open about some of that effort, so you could appreciate it more.

“He was adamant about the bull.” Thor said. “Demanded a private ritual the night before. Put your helmet up on the pillar, then sacrificed and butchered the beast himself. Insisted on it. Did our ancestors proud, but you know he knows his way around a knife.”

“I wish he'd told me. I was really stressed about that whole thing. I'm glad, in the end, that he was thinking of me, but I really wish I'd known. I wouldn't have lost so much sleep!”

“It was a little last minute.” Thor admitted. “I approved it the instant he explained, but we had to do it pretty much immediately afterwards. He really should have told you, but I fear my brother is usually more invested in the making of plans, rather than what to do once they come to fruition. I feel you will be a positive influence on him, though.”

Even though he was wearing his eyepatch, rather than the mismatched prosthetic, his one blue eye was open and sincere.

“I think so too.” you said. You already were influencing each other. It was impossible to live so close, to sleep in the same bed, without doing so. But Loki did have a bad habit of assuming things, a by-product of his upbringing as a leader, you supposed. You would simply have to speak up more.

Perhaps you had gotten too comfortable. But perhaps you wanted to be too comfortable. It might be a holdover from your year of struggle, but having someone who wanted to do so much for you was very tempting. You knew it would be better to strive for a balance, but you also knew that, unless Loki somehow diminished himself severely, the two of you would never truly be equals.

But you admired that greatness, and somehow, those all too common flaws in him made him easier for you to love. They made him so real.

An ambling drum beat started up, accompanied by the brassy ting of zills, and a flute. Loki joined you and Thor in peeking out around the dais, just as a group of dancers spread out around the courtyard.

You'd been told that the dancers represented personages from history and legend. You were pretty sure that the three women who orbited the dance stage equidistant from one another must be the Norns, and you assumed the cluster of people standing beneath a glittering tree branch and clanging their zills were probably meant to be the ancestors of the royal family.

The dance told a story of a woman dressed like you, and a man dressed like Loki, wearing silver bells at their wrists and ankles that jingled with every step. They made everything look so much more graceful and sensual than it really had been: Holding hands like the rune branding had been on purpose, dancing circles with each other, like everything had been friendly and not at all awkward from the very beginning. How elegantly 'you' swooned into 'his' arms, while the assassin was caught. How triumphantly 'you' defended 'him' against the Huldra. And how beautifully 'he' clasped 'you' in a romantic, yet properly chaste embrace.

There was none of the blood, none of the fear, or anger, or petulance, or confusion. No loss, or loneliness, or uncertainty.

But that was how it worked, wasn't it? None of those things could be shown to the general public. This was ceremony. This was spectacle! This was what would be remembered.

The pair danced away, out of sight, the ancestors retreated, and the Norns raised their arms in unison. All around the courtyard, attendants dumped incense into the torches and braziers, sending thick smoke and mysterious perfume wafting over the entire area.

“Show's on, darling.” Loki said, grasping your shoulders, and leading you up the stairs. A new wave of anxiety washed over you as you rose above the sweet smelling clouds like a legend. Heimdall stepped aside to let you pass, Loki and Thor leading you right up to the edge of the elevated platform, where waited a podium, upon which rested a brass bowl. An unfamiliar rune was stamped on its bottom. So that was where the magic would happen.

Thor held his hand out over an unlit brazier just in front of the podium and concentrated. Scarcely a moment later sparks danced between his fingers and jumped to ignite the fuel. The light illuminated the clouds of incense, obscuring the audience. Cut off thus from every other person out there, you didn't flinch as the trio of gods each placed a hand on you, and began to sing.

You couldn't help but wonder if they had done this before. It was a complex song, with rising and falling harmonies, parts layered over one another, something that couldn't have been easy to learn. As their voices dipped and flowed, you felt the power rising, just like out in the camp, months ago. Why could you sense divine power? Was it because of your magic? Was there anyone out in the crowd that could feel it too?

Thor's good eye had begun to sparkle with crackling white energy, the power of the blessing he was singing into you. You assumed Heimdall, behind you, was lighting up orange, and when you turned your head to glance at Loki, you were suffused with the gentle glow of the blue light from your dreams.

All of the anxiety drained out of you at the touch of that light, your arms dropping to your sides as relaxation took over.

Everything was all right. Loki was right beside you. Thor and Heimdall were with you, their voices reverberating through you, their blessing upon you. The rare winter sun filtered down over you like a blanket, as the last notes of the Aesir's song filled your head.

Loki gently took your hand, gazing earnestly into your face as the calming light faded from his eyes.

“Forgive me, my love.” he whispered.

A sudden, painful jab, ripped you out of your cocoon of sunny calm. With a sharp cry, you turned to stare at your fingertip, pierced deeply by the tip of one of Loki's knives.

Loki held your hand over the brass bowl, letting the blood drip, enough to cover the rune at the bottom. Then he tenderly bandaged the tiny wound, lines of regret around his eyes. Thor held his hand out for a slash, and then Loki turned the blade on himself. Blood slowly filled the little bowl, as a light throbbing started in your head. Every drop that rippled its surface was like a giant heartbeat within you.

Once it was full, Thor and Loki began singing again, lifting the small bowl between them. They held it up to the sun, and then poured it onto the burning brazier. The fire sputtered, sizzling, sending a huge cloud of smoke directly into your face. You gagged on the scent of burning blood, practically bathed in it, a layer of death-scent on your skin. The song cut through it, thrumming in your ears, an echoing promise of cherishment and fidelity.

The blood burned down into nothing, the smoke slowly clearing. All of the people in the courtyard came back into view, the upturned faces solemn. The dancers below picked up the chorus.

And you understood them.

Loki took your hand and lifted it up, flourishing to the crowd. They cheered, while you stood there, stunned. You understood what they were saying, their enthusiastic calls, their songs. The blood smell lingered in your nose, the throbbing swiftly receding from your head.

He led you to the stairs down as you wobbled, but you never made it all the way down. Dizziness overcame you, and you collapsed into Loki's arms.

#lasabrjotr #loki (marvel)#loki x reader

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general-du-vallon · 3 years

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I find it really bizarre how there are multiple story-lines in the BBC Musketeres about slavery where the slavers are treated sympathetically. By which I don't mean that all slavers should be inhuman, because people who were part of the slave-trade were human and were like us (I'm white), we have to see ourselves in them, I think it's really important that we see ourselves in them and see ourselves as part of that history. So having Bonnaire who is charming, likeable, interesting, entertaining character who I like and then am horrified at myself for liking, that's great, that does something interesting with the narrative of 'slave traders are all evil and souless' and reminds us that, no, slavers are us, we can still easily perpetuate those sorts of systems.

(racism and slave-trade content warnings, as you'd imagine)

This is long, so basically it'll be - Bonnaire and the season one episode, Pierre Pepin and the season two episode, and then a little bit on Bonnaire's return in season three.

I haven't rewatched for this random splurge of thoughts, but I think the Bonnaire episode in season one is an okay arc. I could probably say something about how I think it's not necessarily bad, but definitely worth interogating the ways the writers give the majority of the story and character beats about slavery to the mixed-race Porthos character. But really what I think needs interogating is two things.

First, the way the episode tries to balance this heavy subject with Athos's history, which is more important to the series-long arc. It ends up (accidentally?) drawing uncomfortable parallels.

There isn't really a good way to compare or contrast a white man's guilt and grief over his (white) wife who was executed (by him). There's never a graceful way to push aside generational trauma from the ongoing slave-trade, or a black man's grief over discovering a man he looked up to is a slaver. Especially not when you're trying to juggle staging that grief and trauma with the white characters' trauma and grief, and most especially when it's the white stuff that turns out to be the main narrative drive of the series and the rest just gets put aside not to be brought up again. It's just bad. There's a lot more to say and think about, but that's a starting point.

Secondly, Paul Munier. Paul fucking Munier. Guys! He's part of the slave-trade too! framing him as an honest merchant is fucked up. He's not the good guy. We can't go 'okay so Bonnaire is bad, but the things he has got through the slave trade, those belong to Paul Munier, who bought them, and is honest and good'. The slave-trade was a triangle - you go to Africa and you kidnap and enslave hundreds of human beings, you take them on ships to America and plantations, you force them to produce sugar-cane and rum (rum is what Bonnaire is drinking on that wagon, when he's telling Porthos dreamy stories). Sugar and rum, those are like, bywords for 'slave-trade'. And then you sell those comoddities and you buy whatever the fuck you want to sell to fuckers like Paul Munier and bring it back to France, and then you go to Africa again. Paul Munier is part of the slave trade. He might not buy and sell human beings, but he supports and props up Bonnaire, and he benefits from the slave-trade.

He might be a good guy, I dunno. I odn't think it's a black and white issue of he's a merchant therefore he's the bad guy. But I think it's worth interogating and thinking about who gets to be innocent in this story.

I know Bonnaire comes back in series three but I'm ignoring that for this second. The other narrative around slavery I think about is actually the one in season two, where the king and d'Artagnan are kidnapped by slavers. Sigh. What are we going to do about this one, huh? there is a lot. I'm gonna put aside the whole 'white slaves' thing because I don't know what to do with that. It took me a few times watching this show to realise 'oh, right, yeah, Milady is a slaver'. Between series one and series two, she made money by selling humans. I know she's moraly ambiguous but I think that gets brushed aside and reframed very quickly. I don't think any of these characters are really framed as slavers. I forget their names, I think Stephen something? The brother who gets gutted by Rochefort in the palace. Yeah, he's a slaver too.

Other than the writers quickly forgetting that these characters are committing attrocities (it's not THE slave trade, so it is different, which I guess might be where the white slavers thing comes in, which is still, no, I still don't know what to do with that). I think the main issue with this narrative arc is what you'd expect the issue to be - the black character. Pierre Pepin.

Where do we begin with that? That was just a lot of bullshit. Pierrre Pepin is a black man in shackles,which is always a questionable choice when you're thinking what to put on TV to be honest. Especially when you then go about killing the him, and wow do you ever want to have second thoughts about having him die for the white royal. That's just not good. I don't like that he's against the king's systematic opession based on class and race, then he does a little turnaround when he meets the king. I guess the 'becomes a royalist when he sees that the white dude is nice' is necessary for the 'willing to die for his king' thing. I'm gonna go with a big nope for all of this.

There's a slave-narrative in each of the three seasons; there's Bonnaire, then there's Pierre Pepin's story, and then Bonnaire returns. He might not be a slaver anymore in season three, but the episode deals with Porthos's reaction to him, so it becomes that - the damage he did is not erased by him being quirky and funny. Again, the very real generational trauma that the slave-trade still inflicts is pushed aside for another character's past and current grief. I know Santiago Cabrera is Chilean and is brown, I'm not saying he should be pushes aside either. Just noting that in each episode Porthos's grief is set up in competition to another character's grief, and it's interesting I think that it's one of the other's backstories in each case. I don't have a conclusion about that, I'm just observing I guess. Anyway, each season has these slave-narratives, I think it'd be interesting to pull these out more and think about the ways the slave-trade is referenced and written about in the series, and why it's done in these ways.

I said it was bizzare how these narratives treat the characters who are perpetuating and benefiting from the slave trade, as well as the characters who are explicitly slavers. I also think it's definitley a choice to shove in multiple storylines about white people, in these narratives. Again, I know the Santiago Cabrera isn't white, but whatever Aramis's friend in that episode is called, is.There is the scene in that episode where Constance (a white woman) has a go at Porthos for the way he stitches Bonnaire, and Bonnaire is largely treated sympathetically in that episode. The characters on the periphery of the slave-trade are barely acknowledged as such, and characters like Milady and Stephen Mautrim (name is off the top of my head I'm not sure) are pretty much absolved of that, and I think we mostly just forget that part of Milady's story. And Pierre Pepin. God, I still don't really know where to start with his story.

I think it's worth thinking about these narratives and interogating this, because the slave-trade was a real historical event and a real trauma that still has impact today. The way we write about and consume stories about it is important. It's also important to remember that Porthos's mother was written as a freed woman because Alexandre Dumas's grandmother was a freed woman. It's a very real and very close history that's being used for these narratives, and it's heavy, you know? You've got to give it space to be heavy. It's a heavy part of this fandom, too, because it's not just something that's in the show, it's something that's in our fandom spaces. The racism and white-supremacy that makes these narratives what they are is part of our fandom.

so... those are my random thoughts on that .

#i haven't edited this #bbc musketeers #the musketeers #meta #racism #slavery

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klbwriting · 4 years

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The Sparrow and The Rogue - Part 1

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Pairing: Ben Hargreeves/ female!Reader

Warnings: some fighting, a touch of fat-shaming

Summary: The Umbrella siblings arrive back in 2019 to discover that Ben has no idea who they are, their dad wants them all dead, and they are once again in way over their heads

Notes: I’M AT IT AGAIN. Another series because I’m a glutton for punishment and I can’t resist my love for Ben Hargreeves. A few actual notes now. Note 1: In this I refer to Ben as Number One because I feel that is who he seems to be in the Sparrow Academy and also once Reginald learned of the others I don’t think he would allow personal names ever again. Note 2: I have named the reader in this as Number Eight because I feel its ambiguous that you can infer yourself as a reader into the shoes of someone just called a number. Note 3: I am really trying to portray the characters well so I hope you enjoy! Please like, reblog, but most of all COMMENT send asks about it or just reply with something or use fun tags. Thank you!

Klaus couldn't process what he was seeing. Ben, his brother, his dead compadre, the one person who was always there for him (except when he was on something, and that one time he just abandoned him in a bar), was right there in front of him with a bad boyband haircut and hate in his eyes. It was a scene that was both tragic and beautiful for Klaus. Vanya felt similar feelings rise in her. Ben had been the one to truly save the world, had been the kindest of her siblings when they were kids, the one who seemed to actually love her and here he was looking at her like he wanted to unleash the horror on her right in the living room that she used to call home. Diego recalled easily how Ben when he was possessing Klaus had hugged him so tight and he had felt the love he missed from his baby brother, but now he had the distinct feeling that Ben would take him out without a second thought. None of the other four had had any moments with Ben recently but they were feeling similar things, happiness at the fact that he was alive, but confusion over how different he seemed. Klaus finally opened his mouth to say something when Reginald stepped in.

"These are the morons I told you about Number One, they have come to usurp your group, they are what I have trained you for," he said. The Umbrella siblings turned to face their father, faces a mix of rage and hurt. Ben frowned looking at the motley group in front of him. "Well Number One? Lead your team against these frauds." He was conflicted, he had rarely attacked anyone who didn't deserve it and he didn't really know what these guys did to deserve the wraith of his father, but before he would make a move the front door of the academy burst open, shattering to the ground as several figures entered the room. Leading them was a familiar face.

"You dummies going to just stand there?" Lila asked as she entered the room ready for a fight. The Umbrella siblings looked back to the Sparrow siblings to see them now all around Ben, masks on, and ready for attack. Surprisingly however, none of them looked anything like the Umbrella siblings, they were all completely different, except for Ben.

"What are you waiting for Number One? ATTACK!" Reginald yelled.

"Shut up dad," a girl standing beside Lila snarked to Reginald. He glared back at her.

"I see you've grown yet again Number Eight, getting bigger by the day," he snarked back. She snarled at him.

"O come on, fat-shaming? That's a little much," Klaus said. Then he caught sight of Lila's expression. "O right, escaping." He followed his siblings and the two women out as the others with them were left behind to fight with the Sparrow siblings. They got a few blocks away before stopping for breath.

"Number Eight?" Five finally spat out at the unknown woman. She shrugged. "I was Number Eight for five years before Lila here came along and sprung me," she explained. Diego looked confused.

"You look exactly the same as you did in the 60's how is that possible if you raised another peron?" he asked. Lila smirked.

"A lady never reveals her secrets. O I missed you love," she answered, gripping Diego's face in her hand. He rolled his eyes but didn't pull away. He missed her too if he was being honest even though she had tried to kill him, a few times. "Now I see you have met your new counterparts."

"Why is Ben leader?" Luther asked. The rest of the siblings looked at him as if to say 'what the fuck dude?' He held up his hands shrugging.

"Because Ben as you call him is the strongest in that crop, at least in terms of powers, channeling a being of destruction in your abs can get you a lot if you try," Eight responded. "But he can be sympathetic and good most of the time." She reddened some at the confused looks on the siblings faces.

"You'll have to forgive sweet little Eight here, she has a bit of crush on Number One there," Lila said, putting an arm around Eight that the woman immediately shrugged off in annoyance. "Anyway, now that you've returned to the present I should catch you up shouldn't I? Come on, to our little hideout, the others should be getting there by now since our little distraction and extraction worked." She turned without getting a response and headed down a flight of stairs that had construction blocks in front of it, disappearing underground with Eight following her. The others looked at each other and one by one they followed the women into the ground.

---------------------

Number One found himself wondering several things after the scuffle had ended. One, why had his father spent so much time talking up this group of siblings like they were evil incarnate? He didn't see any sign of anger or threat from any of them. Two, why did Eight always have to show up with Lila? It drove him crazy to see her, especially now after their last one on one fight that didn't exactly end with a normal take down unless Lila was teaching unexpectedly kissing as a new technique. And three, where the hell had they gotten the name Ben from? He racked his brain for a time that he was known as Ben and he couldn't recall one. "Dad, what was all that about?" he questioned as his siblings watched at dinner that night. Reginald sighed deeply, hating to be questioned, especially with Pogo and Grace in the room.

"Number One, I have told you before, the Umbrella Academy is a rival, a group who wants to destroy us and what we hope to achieve," he said as if One was a small child.

"I understand that's what you told us but that is not what I saw in them today, they looked sad, and confused," he said. "If they were a threat then why didn't they seem to know us at all? Why did they call me Ben?"

"Enough Number One, if you cannot listen properly then you are dismissed from dinner and are to go study Lord Byron again, maybe you will learn something finally," he snapped. One gripped his fork tightly but stood and did as told, just like always. He was the leader and needed to set an example. He heard the whispers from his siblings before they were silenced by their father. He felt Number Three poking around in his mind, trying to see what he was thinking, trying to put a thought into his head but he shook it off and headed upstairs to his room.

He shut the door and let out a breath, finally relaxing for the first time that day. He stripped off his uniform and got into comfier clothes, before laying down in his bed. He laid there, actually taking out Lord Byron and reading some before he heard the last of his siblings go to their rooms. Once he was sure that the house was completely locked down and everyone was at least pretending to sleep he put the book down and rolled over, feeling behind his bed for the loose brick just below his box spring. He pulled it out and from it he pulled out a crayon drawing and a cell phone. He put the picture back into the hidey hole before powering up the phone. He smiled at the message that was waiting for him.

'It was nice to see you today even if I almost had to kill you' 'You couldn't kill me if you tried' 'Ya, you're probably right, but you couldn't kill me either One' 'I know Eight, I know' 'Maybe we can find a way to have a fight tomorrow?' 'I do have some time scheduled to patrol between 9th and 15th street aroud 5 pm' 'I'll be sure to vandalize a building or maybe rob a warehouse on say 12th?' 'I'll be there to stop you' 'Can't wait, goodnight One' 'Goodnight Eight, o and what dad said, you look amazing the way you are' He didn't get an answer but knew she'd see it in the morning and hopefully it would make her smile. He put the phone and brick back and drifted off imaging her smiling at his message.

#The Umbrella Academy #ben hargreeves #ben hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves series #ben hargreeves fanfic #ua #umbrella academy #umbrella academy fanfic

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ink-and-flame · 4 years

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Kinktober Day 1: Intensity Challenged

Kinktober Day 1 Prompts: Sexual deprivation (long term) ~ Orgasm control ~ Competitions (with other Subs) Fandom: Original Tags: Exophilia, Sexual deprivation, Orgasm control, sub competition, angst, hurt/comfort, F/F themes, dom/sub themes, bondage Pairing(s): Orc(m)/Human(f), Darnok/Lia, Human(f)/Human(f)

[Authors Note: Welcome back to another Kinktober. I hope to do better this year than last because I have a lot of stories mapped out, especially for these two. Originally I had not planned for the competition to go this way and was not intending a mixed scene with both m/f and f/f elements. Hopefully it doesn’t come across as too muddled and unfocused.]

Lia was going to get to see Darnok again soon and they had the opportunity to enjoy the V.I.P. access. Slipping the card into her wallet Lia sent a message to Darnok, checking to see if he received his own invite. She was worried that he hadn’t and worded the question in a way that made it seem like she had not received one. Lia was relieved when he had also received the invite and informed him of her own. Their plans were changed to be more casual since it would be best to explore the lounge and what their new access had to offer as opposed to doing a complex scene.

The night arrived and Lia was both excited and a little worried. She wasn’t sure what would happen and decided not to bring anything extra with her. She dressed a bit nicer than she usually would when going to the club, not wanting to upset Darnok by picking out something inappropriate. The drive felt like it took longer, though rationally Lia knew that it took the same amount of time it always did.

She walked up to the club and showed her new ID card to the bouncer who waived her through with a smile. She headed to the main area of the club to wait for Darnok, not wanting to enter the V.I.P. area without him. Sipping on a drink her eyes lit up when he arrived, holding out an arm to her and escorting her to the Lounge. The V.I.P. area was named Destiny’s Lounge, but most just called it the lounge as that was simpler.

“I hope you aren’t too disappointed about not doing a scene tonight. I know we haven’t really had a chance to have a good one in a while and I wanted to make sure that was ok with you.”

“It’s fine Darnok. I think this is a better plan. See what is offered, and that might help us plan our next scene. I can be patient, can you?”

Darnok laughed and headed to the lounge with Lia holding onto his arm. They were allowed in after showing their cards and walked into the small foyer that granted access to the full V.I.P. area. The lounge had a sign over the door, a soft glow coming from within. Quiet music could be heard as well. There was a bar off to the side, separate from the lounge with plenty of seating for an intimate crowd. There were other areas to explore, but that could come later. The lounge itself seemed like the best place to start.

They had not been there long when they were approached by someone Lia did not recognize, though he seemed to know Danrnok as the two shook hands. The man was unusual looking. Sharp features, horns curling up from his head, eyes that seemed to glow. Lia noticed his hand had dark claws, she wasn’t sure if he looked demonic or draconic as his skin had a somewhat dusty grey hue.

“Well, are you going to introduce me, or are you going to be rude?” The tall horned man was looking at Lia.

“Right, of course, how dare I be rude. Lucien, this is my sub Lia.” Darnok glanced down at Lia to check on her.

“Well, Lia, as Darnok said, I am Lucien and I am quite pleased to meet you.” Leaning down he grasped her free hand, kissing it softly. His eyes shifted color as he winked at her. “I hope my appearance doesn’t frighten you too much.” He stood up straight releasing her hand.

“No Sir, I am not afraid.” Lia knew she had to be extra polite. She didn’t want to embarrass or upset Darnok.

“Oh I like her, my friend, do let me know if you plan to ever share.” He gave Darnok a look and then addressed them both. “Well I must be going. I have some things to tend to and the grape vine is singing. Morwenna is looking for you both.” With a slight bow Lucien left.

Darnok looked down at Lia. “Lucien is an old friend of mine. He has been trying to get me V.I.P. access for over a year now. His sway isn’t as strong as Morwenna’s and my schedule prevented me from being able to attend some key events. I am glad that the owners were willing to overlook the past when considering me.” Darnok led Lia over to a couch with a table she could set her drink on.

There were no worries about drugged drinks as the lounge was heavily surveilled and had security on premises. Everyone knew the punishment for such behavior and it was unpleasant and possibly illegal if Lia thought too hard about it. She relaxed into the couch, leaning into Darnok and observing the people. There was a good mix of races, just like with the rest of the club. She saw other orcs, some elves, a couple of goblins, and plenty of humans. Though some of them might not be human at all.

The comfortable silence did not last long as Morwenna came into view. She seated herself next to Darnok with a smile and waved over a server ordering herself a drink. She looked Lia over with a smile before turning to Darnok.

“I am glad to see that you were finally able to get access to the lounge. It will be so much more fun with all the new blood coming in. The gala saw more invites than usual as there were exceptional performances and behaviors by both dom and sub alike. The owners are not usually so generous, but I am glad for it. We always need new and interesting people.”

Darnok nodded. “I am just glad they are still picky and stuck to their original model. Not letting people buy their way in or otherwise force their way in. It keeps the undesirables out. Having to earn it, means you will respect the privilege more, at least it should anyway.”

“Yes, well, not everyone does and sometimes after they get comfortable they get cocky and I have seen a good number of access privileges revoked over the last year. Not sure why, maybe something in the water? Either way, now that you are here why don’t we discuss that wager I mentioned” When her drink arrived Morwenna took a delicate sip and continued. “I am eager to play with new blood. So how about a two part competition?”

Darnok raised a brow. “A competition? Of what sort?”

“Your sub verses one of mine. A test of endurance, patience, and control.” Morwenna was smiling behind her glass.

“I’m listening.”

“Good. Part one is sexual deprivation. The subs must go without sex and release for as long as possible. That includes masturbation, but no one will be disqualified for any nocturnal releases. During this time the sub must perform sexual acts for their dominant. We shouldn’t have to suffer, this isn’t testing our abilities but theirs.”

Darnok looked thoughtful. He had a better chance to win since he wasn’t able to see Lia regularly, something Morwenna wasn’t aware of. It did prevent him from keeping an eye on her, but he trusted Lia. “Ok, that seems fair, what is the second part?”

“Ah, the second part is more fun. Orgasm control. After the deprivation, someone one will of course either lose part one or we call it a draw after hmm, three months? Is that too long, yes probably, 37 days, how is that. A little more than a month. So after 37 days if no one breaks, we move to part two. This will require them to control their orgasms. That part of the competition we will need a room for. We will tease and pleasure our subs and it is their responsibility to hold off as long as possible. Whomever’s sub orgasms first, loses.”

Glancing at Lia Darnok looked back at Morwenna. “I could be on board with this. What does the winner get?”

“Aren’t gloating rights enough?” Morwenna laughed lightly. “I jest. We both have the funds for a substantial prize. Loser buys the winner and their sub an all expense paid trip to an island getaway. It would be just in time for the worst parts of the season and I do like warmth.”

“You speak as though you are going to win.” Darnok did some mental calculations and knew he could easily afford it. Though it would be nice and he could frame it as a business trip when he won.

“Oh Darnok, you know I always get what I want. I rarely, if ever, lose. Still, you do have some advantages. I know you, but not your sub. So I am going in a bit blind. I am still willing to take the chance. So, do we have a wager?” Morwenna held out her hand to Darnok.

Shaking her hand Darnok smiled. “You might want to go ahead and book those tickets now. Save yourself a little money.”

“Oh I do so love it when you are cocky.” Standing up, drink in hand, Morwenna smiled at them both. “The competition starts tomorrow. I suggest you enjoy your evening while you can, I know I plan to.”

Lia watched the woman walk away and felt a lump in her throat. They had not planned to have sex and now she was going to have to wait over a month to do a scene with him? Or was it more she would have to wait to be allowed to enjoy it? Looking at Darnok curiously, she decided it was best to let him lead on this. Maybe he knew something she didn’t.

“I know I should have asked you before agreeing, but this is a perfect opportunity for us. Not only would it give you a chance to prove yourself as a sub, but a nice trip to an island, a resort, maybe a private bungalow. I don��t know about you, but that sounds like a dream to me.” Darnok stroked Lia’s cheek. “I know we can do this, our schedules will make this an easier competition for us, at least, the first part.”

Those words hit deep, prove herself, that was something she wanted. She needed to prove to Darnok that she was perfect for him. If they won, a weekend together away from everything could change their entire relationship. It could potentially give Lia what she wanted, or at least put them on that path. There was the possibility of it going wrong, but she had to have faith that it wouldn’t.

“Ok, I am on board with this. I mean I am the sub so I know I don’t get a choice, but I also know you would give me an out if I really didn’t want to do it. How do we make this work though?”

“That will be the easy part. We already are not scheduled to see each other too much over the next month or so. For the scenes we do, I can help you work on your control. I suggest you also practice edging yourself just be careful. Sometimes you can trigger an orgasm without meaning to, and your body has always been quite responsive to my touch. This will take some practice on both our parts. I have to find ways to cool you down while I work you over, to help you keep from hitting that edge.” Darnok slipped an arm around Lia. “I have a hotel room, I wasn’t sure what tonight was going to be like. I suggest we leave now and make full use of it.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a bit and finished her drink. “Well, I can’t say no to that. No practicing, just driving each other crazy tonight ok?”

“That sounds like the most excellent of plans dearest Lia.”

Darnok’s stamina was put to the test as he and Lia chose to make the most of the evening, and into the early hours. Neither wanted to sleep, for different reasons, but the goal was the same. Close to check out time Lia was laying in the bed sore and completely exhausted. Though if she was honest she had been exhausted for hours. Maybe there was a thing as too much sex, but she refused to beleive it and just chalked it up to her body not being used to this sort of thing.

“Well, I am pretty sure that will help keep me from wanting to have sex again for a while, and I am too sore to masturbate.” Lia admitted as Darnok walked back into the bedroom from the bathroom fully dressed.

He was chuckling as he sat down and put on his shoes. “The shower is yours if you’d like, and I agree. I probably wont need sex again for a while, but I will contact you with instructions after a couple of days.”

Lia showered, dressed, and walked out with Darnok. She hugged him before getting into her car and heading home. There was a nap in her future, her very near future and she had to figure out just how she was going to deal with the next 37 days. Lia got the impression that this was going to be much harder for her than Darnok, but that was the point. She was the one trying to prove herself, not him.

The first week was easy, Lia had no desire to masturbate at all, and the idea of sex didn’t appeal to her. It took about that long for her to no longer be sore. Perhaps Darnok had been a little over zealous, but then that may have been the plan. If she was too sore and exhausted to orgasm, then they had this competition in the bag. Of course that didn’t last, but one week down was a pretty good start.

Even after the first week Lia was doing ok, she had gone longer without masturbating before, but now that she knew she couldn’t, the temptation was a lot stronger. It was during the second week that Darnok began instructing her on how she should edge herself. How to bring herself pleasure without release. He wanted to teach her to control her pleasure, to not get lost in it the way she sometimes did. He wasn’t worried about the first part of the competition, it was the second part he feared losing, and he expressed that concern to her more than once.

Their first scene since the wager began was nothing like what Lia had experienced before. It was pure torture. Darnok drove her almost to the edge over, and over. Teasing different parts of her body. Showing her how to take pleasure, let it build, and then let it fade. He practiced a few techniques on her to try and calm her down while still bringing pleasure. There were a number of close calls that had him backing off and letting her cool down completely before he felt safe touching her again.

He could see the frustration in her eyes, her desire for release, and knew to stop pushing. Instead he pleasured himself in front of her. Something he had never done, at least not all the way to completion. Seeing her covered in his seed only made him want her more. A temptation he struggled to resist. It would be too easy to fall victim to his own lust, and if he was inside of her, he would not stop, and he wasn’t sure Lia could resist at that point. As it stood he felt a little bad finding his own release when she could not.

Carefully Darnok cleaned his sub, he praised her and comforted her. The aftercare was most important, not only to help her calm down, but to reinforce their bond. This was the only way to keep the experience from feeling unbalanced. Darnok had to let himself care for her, cherish her, treat her with love and reverence. Something he had been avoiding since things had become complicated in his life.

The third week brought with it some relief. Lia’s hormones shifted and she simply had no desire to seek pleasure. She was still warm from the last session with Darnok. While the experience had brought her to tears, the aftercare had filled her heart even more than it had been before. He had never treated her so lovingly and if this was what it took to feel that, then she would gladly forego the pleasure of her body to have this with him.

Once her hormones had cycled back up, resisting became much harder, especially since she had been practicing edging again. She was focusing on different forms of stimulation, the ones she knew would get her there quicker. She had to practice resisting that pleasure for as long as she could. Many days Lia found herself breaking out a toy multiple times, only to not let herself reach satisfaction. It was getting to the point where she did not want to keep going and just wanted release.

Thankfully Darnok was there to soothe her frayed nerves with his deep calming voice. Their phone calls became more frequent as Lia needed the extra support to get through this and they needed to discuss their next session. This one would be harder than the last. Lia would have to resist even more because Darnok anticipated that simple teasing would not be enough and that Morwenna would expect him to penetrate her during the second part of the competition. This session was to help both of them resist becoming lost in the moment.

When the session began, Lia was nervous, more so than the last time because she could see that Darnok was nervous as well. The time was almost up and Morwenna had not indicated that her sub had lost, that meant tonight could break them both if they got too caught up in everything. Something that was a very real possibility for them both.

Darnok started slow, easing them both into the session. He treated it as a rehearsal for the real thing. Starting with simple touches, using his hands and mouth to push Lia to the edge of pleasure over and over, only backing off when he could sense her body tensing. When it was time for penetration Darnok talked Lia through it, explaining how he would move to keep from overwhelming them both. He held his body in a way that the pressure would not be on her clit, anything to give them an advantage.

At first it was easy, he could go slow, roll his hips, they both enjoyed it but it wasn’t enough stimulation to get them to release any time soon. Gradually he sped up, his control slipping until his tusks were scratching her shoulder and he could feel himself on the edge. Pulling out quickly Darnok came on Lia, covering her slick folds, stomach, and breasts with his seed. He looked at her worried that she had reached completion as well as her body was shaking.

“I… I am so close….” Her voice was small. “Darnok please…”

The begging almost broke him, but he was so proud of her. He lost control, but she didn’t. His smile lit up his face as he shook his head. “Oh Lia, you have never made me prouder, please do not give in. We have come so far, you have done so well my dearest.”

Sucking in a breath Lia nodded. She focused her breathing and relaxed the tension in her body. The needy, pulsing, ache that filled her slowly faded in intensity. She was still filled with need, but she could handle it now. She wasn’t in danger of going over the edge unexpectedly. Darnok let her rest for a good while as he carefully cleaned her, not wanting to stimulate her too much and send her over the edge accidentally.

It was much harder to calm down this time and Darnok did his best to care for Lia, to bring her back to a more neutral place. He worried about overworking her body, taxing her mind, nothing was worth bringing her actual harm. He whispered words of praise and encouragement until he felt her relax in his arms. This session was shorter, he could not risk pushing for more, he did not trust himself to not give into her pleas.

Lia’s frustration was turning to anger and she was glad the time was almost up for the first part of the wager. It was beginning to affect her day to day life. She was snapish, terse, and short with people more frequently now. Explaining it off as bad days was becoming harder and she had to be careful that she wasn’t risking her job.

As the 37th day arrived and passed Lia was curious when she did not hear from Darnok. She had managed to survive the first part of this challenging wager, it was the second part she feared. Being this keyed up for so long meant that she could lose control more easily. Lia was ready to be done if she was honest and wanted nothing more than to go back to exploring this aspect of her life with Darnok, without all the restrictions. Maybe they could revisit this again, but on their own terms. 37 days did not sound like a lot until she had to experience it, and it was just too long.

When Darnok finally called Lia was relieved. It seemed to have been a draw. Something that didn’t really come as a surprise. While Lia did not know Morwenna or her sub, she knew how to recognize a competitive streak when she saw one and the domme was competitive. Darnok scheduled their next play session for the weekend. They would be utilizing one of the larger rooms as all four of them would have a play session together. Lia wondered how much cross over there would be, or if they were just sharing space.

The night finally came and Lia dressed comfortably. She packed a spare set of clothes and some other essentials. She was going to be spending the night at the hotel with Darnok afterwards. Lia had the feeling she was barely going to be able to move and that the after care would take the rest of the night.

Heading into the club she saw Darnok waiting for her close to the entrance. He guided Lia towards the back rooms as they were the only ones open and big enough for all four of them to have enough space to enjoy themselves. Morwenna was already there when Lia and Darnok arrived. Her sub was naked, blindfolded, and bound to one of the small beds.

“I wanted to save a little time and get my sub prepared. She has been, a little difficult to handle these last few days. I am sure we could have timed this better, but I did not let her cum, even after the 37 days were up. I wanted her prepared for this and eager.”

“Lia has been a dutiful sub and has not orgasmed either. Even though I never said she couldn’t, she chose to continue the deprivation of her own volition. I could not be more proud of her, or more eager for this wager to be complete. I miss scening fully with my sub and while this has been excellent practice and has given me some interesting insight, my pleasure comes from the pleasure of my partners. This was no easy task for either of us.”

“Shall we begin?” Morwenna asked her hand sliding slowly along her subs body, teasing the bound woman's nipple gently.

“Give us just a moment to get ready.” Darnok helped Lia onto the other bed, stripping her of her clothing. He would not use bonds to hold her, he needed to be able to read every movement of her body. Stripping down to his pants, he nodded. “We may begin.”

Darnok’s focus was on Lia, he could not allow what was happening next to them to become a distraction. He started slow, his hands roaming over Lia’s body, massaging her muscles, her breasts, hips, and thighs. He carefully avoided her hot spots, wanting to warm her up slowly, get her used to his touch, let her sink slowly into the sensations. When she was relaxed enough he began to tease her, attaching the little bell nipple clamps to her now pert nipples. Smiling as they made light sounds with her subtle movements. “So beautiful my little Lia.”

Lia was torn between focusing on Darnok and being distracted by the scene happening next to them. Morwenna had a similar approach, starting slow, but she was teasing her sub more with her mouth than her hands. Lia became curious about how different it might feel, having a soft feminine touch as opposed to Darnok’s firm and more masculine one. She loved the way Dar made her feel, but that didn’t mean she could not be curious about the touch of others.

When his lips kissed over her inner thigh Lia refocused on Dar. This was a competition and she needed to remain relaxed and concentrate on controlling her pleasure. Even though the sound of the other sub’s moans tickled at her ears, Lia had to stay focused on her own pleasure. Making sure it didn’t overwhelm her or catch her by surprise. When his thick tongue pushed into her, she arched with a cry. It felt incredible, not enough to bring her to release, but enough to make her want more. He hands went to his head holding him in place. She knew that this would push her to the edge faster, but she had been practicing with tug signals.

Lia hoped that Darnok remembered and would ease up when she felt herself spiraling. His finger pushing into her was almost too much and she tugged his hair a bit sharply, it was a little too soon for penetration and she needed to calm down. Especially since it seemed the other sub could handle quite a bit. Morwenna was copying Dar, her face between the other woman’s thighs. If the sound was anything to go on, the efforts were quite enthusiastic indeed. Hearing the other sub moaning, seeing her arch and writhe, the way Morwenna delicately sucked and lapped at what little Lia could see. It only aroused her more. Now she understood why the sub was blindfolded. Yes, it increased her senses, but it prevented her from being aroused by the sight of what was happening in the room.

Gasping Lia arched harder against Darnok, tugging tightly at his hair. She had almost lost focus and cum right then, it wasn’t going to happen so fast. She did not get this far for it to happen this fast. Panting and whimpering she tried to calm herself down but it wasn’t working. Thankfully Darnok stopped and stood up looking down at her. She could see the bulge in his pants, the dampness on his slacks, he was intensely aroused.

“Oh Lia, I have missed your taste, your body, taking you the way I want to. I must have you.” He stripped the rest of his clothing, climbing onto the bed with her. He wanted it to seem like he had less control than what he actually felt, but the truth was, his control was already being tested. The cries of both women were getting to him and he knew that the sights were arousing Lia.

Hovering over her, he slid himself against her, not penetrating, taking his time, letting her cool down some, but still teasing her. “I cannot wait to be inside you, to feel you hot and tight around me.” His voice was a deep gravelly growl.

Lia noticed the other subs cries getting louder when he spoke. Perhaps the blindfold helped with the sights, but not the sounds, so maybe she wasn’t at as much of a disadvantage as she thought. Then again, Darnok’s voice affected her too, so it wasn’t without issue. If he spoke more she might lose control, his voice always did something to her she couldn’t quite explain.

Turning her head she saw Morwenna pulling on a complicated harness. It looked like she was using a strap on, but there were modifications that allowed her to be stimulated, at least it looked like there was a part that went inside once it was buckled on. This excited Lia, having never really seen this kind of thing up close. Her eyes were locked on the Domme, and how she moved over her sub. Untying the bonds holding her down and giving her more freedom of movement. Lia was entranced by the sight of their intimacy. The way their bodies moved together, their breasts pressing into each others. It was beautiful.

“Please, Dar, I need you inside me.” She whispered, knowing that he would hear her, but that it would be hard for anyone else too. As an orc his hearing was far better than a humans and it allowed her to speak to him in low tones when she didn’t want to be overheard. All she received in response was a low, deep growl, and the sensation of his thick cock pushing into her. She hiked her legs over his hips, pulling him into her faster. Her control was slipping and they were at risk of losing.

Maybe making it this far was enough. Lia wanted this, she wanted to cum, and she could not look away from the women next to them. Her face was forcibly turned by Darnok, who gave her an amused look and leaned in nipping her neck. Lia knew he was trying to keep her present, keep her from slipping and going over the edge too quickly. The nip helped ground her a bit, but also riled her. The feeling of him thick and hot inside of her was almost too much to take and she couldn’t resist another look at the couple next to them.

Morwenna was clearly skilled if the noises her sub was making was anything to go on. The way her hips moved enticed Lia and she found herself spiralling towards that edge faster and faster. Lia simply could not look away, finding the women beautiful in ways she hadn't really thought of too much before. She had always had an open mind, but this was something different entirely.

Turning to Darnok, it was his eyes that captured Lia. He had been watching her, watching them, but also glancing at them and it was taking its toll. She could see his control slipping, that slightly feral glazed look in his eye that he got when things were about to get rough and more of his orcish nature would come out. His hips moved faster as he thrust deeper and harder into Lia, filling her body in ways no other man ever had, or ever could. Her pleasure spiralled higher and higher, her body tense, the wager forgotten. She no longer cared. She needed release, craved it, and would no longer be denied.

A sharp cry filled the air as pleasure had culminated in a powerful release of sheer orgasmic bliss, the other sub had broken first. Lia’s cries quickly followed not seconds after as her own orgasm overtook her. The pleasure she felt was so intense it bordered on pain, it almost wasn’t enjoyable it was so intense. Never before had her body reacted this way, the most powerful orgasm she had ever had, a gush of cum squirting out of her and soaking herself, Darnok, and the bed beneath them. Lia was shaking, tense, her body bowed as she rode out the blinding pleasure that tore through her.

It took several moments for her to begin to relax, a foot had cramped because her toes curled so hard. Lia was not sure she ever wanted to hold off from orgasming that long again. The experience was simply too intense for her. She was panting, her vision blurry with little dots floating around when she blinked. It was a while before she came back to herself, seeing the worried look on Darnoks face. He had been speaking, she had not responded, she had not even realized he was talking.

“Lia, are you ok?” His tone was worried as she had not responded.

“Do I need to call the medic.” Morwenna’s voice sounded far away.

“I am not sure. Lia, Lia sweetie you need to respond.”

“ok” Lia croaked.

Darnok breathed a sigh of relief as he slowly pulled out, a gush of fluid following the action. Slowly he stroked his hands over her body. “Tell me what you need.”

“Foot cramp” Lia whimpered as she began to come back to herself.

She smiled weakly as Darnok moved off of her and started massaging her foot and calf, switching to the other leg once she had relaxed. He was talking quietly with Morwenna, both of them clearly worried about her. She raised a hand and waved it at them a bit.

“M’fine.. Think i saw god… or the devil, not sure”

Morwenna laughed heartily. It was the most warm sound Lia had ever heard the woman make. It was so genuine and somewhat contagious. Lia turned and looked at her. Disheveled, soaked in sweat, her hair a mess, clearly she had reached completion with her sub. For the first time, she actually looked human to Lia, and that only made her more curious about the intense and aloof woman.

“I like her, I really do Darnok. Are you sure you wont share?” Morwenna was tending her own sub now that it was clear Lia did not need medical intervention. She had removed the girls blindfold and was holding a water bottle for the sub to sip from. “Slowly dear. I will get you a blanket in a moment, you need fluids first.”

The aftercare was soft, gently, the subs being pampered by their doms with the utmost care. Both couples ended up on the couch. Lia wrapped in a blanket curled on Darnoks lap, and Morwanna’s sub was burritoed and draped across her Domme’s lap, hair being stroked softly.

“You won, but barely. I suppose a deal is a deal. Let me know the dates and I will get the tickets as agreed. I do hope we can do this again sometime. Well, maybe not this exactly, but it would be nice to play again. Maybe with a little more interaction?”

“We will see, I would enjoy that, but I have a few scenes planned out that I would like to get through first. I will need to check my calendars and get back to you on the rest. I am honestly surprised we won. I could feel Lia losing control beneath me and I hit a point where I no longer cared about winning.”

“I think we both hit that point. I got caught up in the moment just as much as you did. We all did, and I think that is what made this so much fun.”

Lia did not remember falling asleep or how she managed to get to the hotel. She woke up in Darnok’s arms, resting against his chest. He was deep asleep and she just watched him for a while. Wondering what tomorrow would bring.

#exophilia #orc boyfriend #Orc x Human #Darnok/Lia #intensify series

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cognitivefunk · 4 years

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Under the Sunlight

I’m terrible with titles. So here is DAY 2 of the smut writing prompt! I wrote this just now in the evening hours! I hope you enjoy

Title: Under the Sunlight Prompt: Sunscreen Fandom: Ikemen Vampire Pairing: Le Comte x Female Reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings/Tags: Smut, I butcher the French language, passionate sex, consensual, oral sex, I ended this with a VERY corny line Word Count: 1,778

#summer of smut & #summer of smut writing challenge

The sun was beaming down in all its beautiful intensity and you decided it would be a nice day to lay out it the sun to relax. There wasn’t any sort of air conditioning in the mansion, and it was starting to get stuffy inside. There was a warm breeze that rustled the leaves in the garden and you brought a thin blanket with you to lay on and soak up some rays.

The only thing was, if you were going to spend any length of time in the sun you knew you needed to put on a bit of sunscreen. You were able to apply it to your face and arms, but your camisole left part of your back exposed and you were having trouble reaching it.

Unbeknownst to you, Le Comte had been watching you from across the garden, amusement twinkling in his deep golden eyes. He was waiting to see if you could actually stretch that far, but your struggle was adorable in its own right. He shook his head to himself, setting his drink down on the garden table before walking at his leisurely pace until he stood behind you.

“Ma chérie, let me help you with that,” his warm breath on your ear startled you, and he had taken the bottle from your hands, opening the cap to apply a small amount to his fingers. “Comte!!” you exclaimed, a flustered expression hiding none of your surprise. His long fingers splayed out over your neck, dropping down to rub the substance over the top of your back, guiding you with his free hand to lie down on the blanket. “It’s a beautiful day; we wouldn’t want you getting burned now would we?”

Flustered as you may have been, you didn’t argue with the pureblood, laying down on your stomach and allowing him to work his fingers over the flesh of your back. “Thank you, I really appreciate it! I wasn’t sure who to ask since it’s kind of awkward,” you explained. Though in the back of your mind you knew you could have asked Sebastian without much issue, given how cordial he was.

“Oh? Is that so?” he feigned indignation, a warm smile on his lips, “Ma chérie, you can ask me anything, especially matters such as this,” he leaned closer to your body as he ran his fingers over your back, the softness of your skin drawing him in. “Tu es parfaite… “he whispered under his breath. You couldn’t quite make out the words, but your mind reels, hoping against all hope that you heard him correctly.

He took a deep breath, the intoxicating aroma of your scent mixed with the smell from the sunscreen caressed his senses and a flower of desire blossomed in his chest. To him, you were the sun, the breeze, and the dazzling stars in the night sky. You were everything, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to tell you. He had taken the opportunity to give himself an excuse to touch you. To feel your velvet skin beneath his fingertips. He wanted to just melt into you.

He cursed at himself internally, chastising himself to behave as he fought against his urge to explore more of your body. “Hm? Did you say something?” you asked, hoping he would clarify his statement. Your voice, your sweet melodic voice, brought him back to reality. His hands paused, but did not leave your body. “Ah, just admiring what a beautiful day it is,” he mused, the corners of his eyes crinkling with one of his cryptic smiles.

You had turned to watch him from the side of your eye, propped up on your elbows to get a better look at him. When your eyes met his, you thought you saw a deep longing for a glimmering moment, and your heart fluttered. Given his keen senses, he was made all too aware of your quickening pulse, and it only made your scent more alluring to the man. “Do I make you nervous, ma chérie?” he inquired while gently moving your hair off of your shoulder so that it would not stick to the freshly applied sunscreen.

You swallowed visibly, a small chill running through your body where he touched. You turned to face him, sitting up so you could look him in the eye. The last thing you wanted was for him to think that you feared him. “NO! No…not exactly,” you worked through your thoughts, your feelings making your brain a jumbled mess.

“Not exactly?” he repeated your words back to you, suddenly feeling quite emboldened. He observed you patiently as you sorted out what you were trying to say. He fought the urge to cup your cheek and bring you closer to him.

‘Je veux être avec toi pour toujours.’

"Comte…” you start, fidgeting your hands in your lap. You take a deep breath and try again, “When I’m with you, my heart races and I can’t think straight.” You wanted to look away after your simple confession, but he couldn’t hold back the urge to cup your cheek any longer. He brought your gaze back to his, a smoldering fire on the surface that bore into you, showing you a glimpse of the depths of his yearning for you.

“Shh, ____,” he whispered against your lips, drawing you closer to his as he closed the distance between you. His lips were soft as they moved against yours, and you couldn’t help but sigh dreamily into the kiss. He needed to taste you, to take but a part of you as this hunger grew within him. His tongue was soon tracing your lower lip, seeking entrance into your sweet lips which you gladly granted him with a soft gasp.

Your tongues embraced in the intimate kiss, enjoying the sweetness of one another under the afternoon sun. He pulled back, only to kiss the underside of your jaw, running his tongue along a particularly sensitive spot that made you sing out for him. “J’ai envie de te faire l’amour…” he whispered sensually against your neck, bringing you into his lap.

You felt flush, your body temperature rising at his words, knowing full well he was asking to make love to you. “Let’s take this inside?” you were breathless, and didn’t want to break the trance the two of you were under, but you also did not want to be caught by one of the other residents having a mid-afternoon tryst in the garden.

Le Comte wrapped his arms around you, lifting you with him to retreat back to his bedroom where he could lay you down on his luxurious sheets. The two of you barely made it through the door before you began unbuttoning his shirt and loosening his tie, using it to pull his mouth closer to yours, pouring your passion into your kiss. He responded tenfold, grabbing your ass tightly against him, and pushing you up against the wall to roll his hips up into you.

You could feel how worked up he truly was against your most sensitive area. He captured your earlobe between his lips, biting your soft flesh teasingly before placing his lips right against the shell of your ear, hissing, “J’ai envie de toi.” I want you.

He attached his mouth to your neck, mindful of his fangs, and began his work of leaving his mark in you. You were putty in his hands, moaning and arching against his touch. “Oui, mon chéri, je veux que tu me baises.” Yes darling, I want you to fuck me.

Hearing such vulgar language spill from you for him almost made him drive his fangs straight into your neck to keep you forever. Or at least to extend your life and keep you by his side, but that was a decision that would have to wait for later. For now, he wanted to indulge in you. He moved you from the wall to splay you out on his satin sheets of his bed.

“You are perfect,” he breathed, undressing you and leaving kisses along your skin as he slowly unwrapped you like a present just for him. “___, you’ve no idea how long I’ve waited to have you like this.” He trailed his tongue down your abdomen, worshiping every inch of you. Not a single patch of skin was left untouched, he gazed lovingly at every part of you, enraptured in your beauty. You were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on, and he wanted more. More.

“I must have all of you,” he hissed, grabbing your legs to bring you closer to the edge of the bed, delving his tongue into your folds. He looked up from his spot between your legs, making smoldering eye contact as he drew his tongue up the length of you slowly, flicking it against your clit at the end for good measure just to watch you writhe.

“Then take all of me,” you panted, your arousal leaving you a mess. A smirk spread across his lips and he slid a finger into your dripping pussy, sliding it in and out with care, curling his finger inside you, searching for that magical spot to make you fall apart for him. “If you, my beloved, are offering then I will gladly take all of you.”

He pressed his lips to your thigh, watching as you began to tremble beneath him, your impending climax building like a dam ready to burst. He would gladly drown in all of you. “Ma chérie, give your everything to me,” he groaned, pressing his lips to your soaking core as he placed a second finger alongside the first, still curling up to press against the spot that made all thoughts leave your mind. You could only moan in response, bucking up into his waiting mouth, his tongue bringing you over the edge with a sharp cry. You arched off of the bed, holding onto his head to ground yourself as he continued to slowly pump his fingers in and out of you, tasting you on his tongue.

Your body twitched at the overstimulation, your nerves firing on all ends as he finally pulled his fingers from you to clean off with his tongue, making sure to put on a show by licking up each digit individually before delving them into his mouth to suck on. He stood at the end of the bed, trailing his fingers down his body as he removed the rest of his own clothing, partially undressed by yours truly just moments before.

“You’re going to be late to dinner, ma chérie, I am going to spoil you with dessert early.”

#usagiwrites #ikevamp #summer of smut #summer of smut writing challenge #ikemen vampire #le comte #le comte x reader #female reader #smut

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madasthesea · 5 years

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@the-reverse-mermaid mentioned that it would be hilarious if my story, The Will of the Force, was actually a fanfic by Peter, and well... this happened. The closest thing to crack I will ever write.

There was a dull thunk as Peter’s phone fell to the worktop. Tony looked over with a raised eyebrow as he beheld the sleeping teen, but he didn’t try to wake him up. He’d told the kid to take a nap before working, but Peter had insisted he was fine.

Tony shook his head fondly as he stood from his stool and crossed over to Peter, grabbing a blanket from the couch as he did. He threw the blanket over Peter’s shoulders, then carefully readjusted his arm so the blood flow wasn’t cut off. He picked up Peter’s phone to lock the screen, glancing habitually down at the text there.

He paused when he caught sight of his own name.

Tony shed his long cloak, dropping it in a corner as he adjusted the setting on his lightsaber, lowering it to training level. It flared to life, a blue so pale it was practically white. The low humming of the crystal resonated in the Force and Tony smiled.

Rhodey’s own saber hissed into existence, green and steady. He smirked a little bit, dark eyes flicking over Tony’s relaxed stance.

In the corner, the padawans were slowing down, pausing to watch the duel.

“Kid, what the heck?” he muttered.

He wasn’t usually the type to snoop, but his curiosity was piqued. He scrolled up a little to the beginning of the document.

When he got to the part where Peter was introduced, he was officially flummoxed. Had... Peter written this? What was this anyway, a fanfiction where Tony and Peter were Jedi?

He kept reading, snorting when Peter injured himself and tried to brush it off. At least the kid knew himself well. He found his throat getting suspiciously tight as Jedi Peter talked about losing Ben, as Jedi Tony comforted him.

“We leave for Ilum tomorrow morning, Padawan.” Tony tried to keep his face straight, but the corner of his mouth pulled up into a half-smile without his permission.

Peter beamed.

“Yes, Master.”

Tony blinked in surprise at the abrupt ending. Maybe Peter hadn’t finished it yet?

He carefully set Peter’s phone down in a place where it could have easily fallen on its own, and went back to his desk.

He’d never known Peter liked to write, but that wasn’t that surprising if this is what Peter writes. He couldn’t imagine the kid coming in and saying, “Hey, I wrote a fanfiction about us as warrior monks with a special telepathic connection.” As it was, Tony was a little unsure of how to react. He couldn’t decide if he was flattered, amused, or a little weirded out.

He did know, however, that he was definitely going to give Peter a hard time about it.

Peter woke up from his impromptu nap half an hour later, blushing and wiping drool from his cheek. Tony had waved off his apology and set him on a task, waiting for the perfect moment to start his plan.

“Done,” Peter called, holding up the reassembled Iron Man gauntlet only half an hour after Tony had given it to him.

Tony looked up and smiled. “Well done, my young Padawan,” he said casually.

Peter’s proud smile froze. “What?”

Tony feigned a confused look. “You know, Padawan? Star Wars? Your absolute favorite franchise of all time?”

“No, no, I--I know that, I just--” he glanced towards his phone still on his workbench. “You’ve never called me that before.”

Tony shrugged. “Thought I’d mix it up. Fits, doesn’t it?”

Peter blushed. “Yeah, I guess.”

Tony turned back to his own work, smirking to himself.

A couple days later, Tony was purposefully in the piano room rather than the lab when Peter showed up for Tony’s weekend.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asked as he hesitantly rounded the corner.

Tony finished the piece he’d been playing (from the minute FRIDAY told him Peter had arrived).

“Hey, kiddo.”

“What’re you doing in here?” Peter asked, coming closer to the stool.

“What does it look like? Playing the piano.” Tony scooted to one side, giving room for Peter to sit down next to him.

“I didn’t know you knew how.”

“My mom taught me,” Tony said, looking down as he played an easy scale with one hand. Then he cleared his throat, remembering why he’d set up this little rendezvous. “It’s important to have hobbies that aren’t just building and science. Artistic stuff, you know? Music, art, writing,” he said, glancing over at Peter as he said it. But Peter just nodded.

“Yeah, band was fun. Used a different part of your mind.”

“Yeah. You do anything else? Draw? Write?”

Peter shrugged. “I take pictures.”

And the conversation wandered that direction, without a confession from Peter about his Star Wars story.

“I would love to be a Jedi,” Peter sighed as one of the Clone Wars episodes plays. He was in full convalescence mode from a broken ankle, his pain meds making him just a little more candid than usual. Tony looked up from where he was pouring the kid a glass of juice, the opportunity almost too good to be true.

“That would be awesome,” Tony agreed, hurrying forward before Peter could change the subject. “What color would your lightsaber be?”

“Oh, blue for sure,” Peter answered immediately, accepting the cup Tony handed him.

“Nice. I think mine would be green.”

Peter’s brows instantly furrowed, his nose wrinkling. “No way. Yours would be blue, too.”

“That was decisive. Thought about this before, huh?”

Peter’s cheeks darkened. “Well, only like... in passing, really.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony said, raising an eyebrow. “So you definitely haven’t... written a story where you and I are Jedi and you’re my padawan? Just as an example?”

Peter’s eyes flew open, his jaw dropping as his cheeks turned an alarming shade of pink.

“No!” He practically shouted. “No, no I definitely haven’t.”

“Kid, I saw it,” Tony said, laughing at Peter’s comical reaction.

“Why were you looking at my phone?!” Peter yelped, sitting up straight on his couch cushion, his ankle cast getting tangled in the blanket he was under.

“You fell asleep,” Tony exclaimed, gesturing with both hands. “I was trying to be a good mentor and make sure you didn’t lose all blood flow to your arm!”

Peter buried his face in his hands. “This is so embarrassing, oh my gosh.”

“Kid, it’s not that bad. Sure it was a little... surprising to read--”

“Please just kill me--”

“Pete,” Tony laughed, reaching forward and pulling Peter’s hands away from his face, but Peter just twisted and hid his blush with a throw pillow instead. “It’s fine. I’m flattered, really, that you would want me as your Jedi master in another life. And hey, you’re not a bad writer, kid. You should look into a creative writing course or something.”

Peter sat up suddenly, staring at Tony, his hands still trapped between Tony’s larger ones. “I didn’t write it!” He yelped.

“Peter, it’s fine, you don’t have to deny it.”

“I didn’t, Mr. Stark!” He finally pulled his hands back from Tony so he could flap them in agitation. “Ned did!”

Tony blinked. “Ok, that’s a little weird.”

“That’s what I told him!” Peter blurted, nodding frantically. “Cause we were just talking about being Jedi at lunch one day and how cool that would be and then he goes, “And Mr. Stark could be your Master,” and I was like, “Ned, that’s weird,” and then a few hours later I get an email from him and it was that story! But he actually writes for like fandoms and stuff, like posts it online and everything so he didn’t see why it was weird but oh my gosh he would die if he knew you read that, you can’t tell him ever.” Peter rambled, his cheeks getting a little red again from lack of oxygen.

Tony took a second to process the flood of information. “Well, this is not how I was expecting this conversation to go,” he said, sitting back and putting his hand on Peter’s uninjured ankle. “I was prepared for the blushing, and the stammering, and for you to offer to clean my lab for a month so I never bring it up again.”

“I would still like you to never bring it up again,” Peter grumbled, slouching into the corner of the couch.

“Are you going to clean my lab for a month?” Tony asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Absolutely not. It’s impossible to clean up all the motor oil DUM-E spills. And anytime I clean the lab you throw things on the floor on purpose.”

“Fine,” Tony smirked, standing. “You better learn to answer to Padawan then, Padawan.”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter groaned. Tony huffed a laugh, leaning down to kiss the top of Peter’s head as he passed.

“That’s Master Stark to you,” he said, lightly tugging on Peter’s earlobe.

Peter groaned, even louder, and hid his head under the blanket. In the background, the Star Wars theme played as a new episode came on. Tony smiled and absently hummed along under his breath.

#this is absurd but it was fun #also look at me simultaneously complimenting and insulting my own writing #the true writer's life #Irondad and Spiderson #Tony Stark #Peter Parker #MCU #brotp: speaking of loyalty #my writing #fic #Star Wars AU #loosely

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